As fighter pilots love to say, "We have a visual." My first recollection of my brother Butch is in a school setting. The two of us standing outside the building, in front of its three entry doors. This imposing building is brick and glass, straight up as far as the eye could see, at least three stories. I 'm baffled as to why we are outside, as the learning is taking place inside the building. But here we are.
I'm in first grade, Butch is already in second, still maintaining his early lead. While we are standing there I notice that two of the three doors are wired shut from the outside . Then in a blur, all the glass sections of the doors are filled with faces. Pained expressions fill all but the lower ones. The doors won't open, and everyone is piling backup the stairs. Invisible power holds sway here. . The fire drill is reenacted to a successful conclusion, after the wire is removed, and Butch and I are too.