Saturday, April 04, 2015


Being the “Baby” in your family is the best birthday present you can ever get. It's a great way to start your life. I highly recommend it.

 Now, there can be a few “downsides,” such as living all your life with the nickname, “Baby” as my uncle Russel did, or, as my friend Benard Burt, an up and coming government lawyer also discovered.

He didn't learn until many years later that when he was born, his two older brothers had received the only two names on which his parents could both agree, so they were unable to decide on his name until well after they had all left the hospital. Later in life Burt was on his way to becoming one of the top lawyers in the government bureaucracy, when he was called upon, on only a couple of days notice, to travel to Europe to handle a major case. His passport and travel arrangements were rushed
through on an emergency basis, obtaining his birth information from the hospital records. As a result, Burt spent three weeks in Europe as “Baby Boy Burt.”

 However, these are minor annoyances compared to the many advantages of being the last born in your family. There is a price to pay, though. For the other children that is.

 Take for example my sister Kathryn. She was perfectly happy with her name until little #1 changed it to “Kak.” It stuck. The kid learned early to take advantage of Kak's loving nature. One of her highlights at Elizabeth school was “snack time,” when she would get her daily fix of Mr. Lance's “Big Town.” (which was his version of a “Moon Pie.”). It dldn't take long before she was buying TWO “Big Towns” a day. One for herself, and the other to take home know who.

 Once, when the “little darling” got into a “fight” with another second grader Kak showed up in typical cavalry fashion and gave the little thug a swift tap on the back with her skate; thus ending the altercation.
After that, word got around the neighborhood that "you don't mess with Ed!"

 Mr. “Baby” learned quickly how easy it was to manipulate others in the family with no more than a sad expression on his face. That mournful look often even got him the best part of Kak's ice cream cones; you know, that very last bite at the bottom of the cone. “Sisters hath no greater love than that!” But not all first borns are lucky enough to have sisters like Kak, so they're forced to concentrate on their parents, which require much more effort, such as crying, whiniing and stomping of feet. It didn't always work, but it was good practice for the skills needed in the adult world of business.

Kak and Ed
Kak's kindness and generosity was not just confined to her little brother.  It was the way she was with everyone!  They talked a lot about that at her funeral last Tuesday.

Now that I think about it, those early days at Elizabeth School were depression years and it would have been unusual  for Kak to have had more than one nickle to spend on a "snack" at school.

Those were her "Big Towns" she gave me!

Lance Packing Company doesn't make "Big Towns" anymore.

The LORD doesn't make many "Kaks" anymore either.

Rest in peace, my dear sister. I love you.