J.D. Kelsheimer (May 4, 1962- July 14 2008)
It's hard to believe my little brother isn't around to get me in trouble anymore. The last conversation I had with him was a little over a month ago and he talked about going on an adventure together. He didn't care about the "whys" and "hows". It was just another memory for the scrapbook in his mind. That was the kind of reasoning that got us both grounded for most of our adolescence. Even though it was usually his idea, I usually got stuck holding the bag because I was the oldest and should have known better. The only time I got the better of him was when I talked him into jumping off of the roof while I did a drum roll. (Just like they do at the circus.) He ended up in a cast with a broken foot and I had to wait on him all summer long.
There wasn't a pond, creek, or mud hole within three miles of our home that we didn't sample at least once. We'd come home covered in mud, leaches, and cockle burrs, but we didn't care. Everything was an adventure. We fought like cats and dogs and then made up to look for more trouble. We raced and wrecked bikes, go karts and motorcycles by the score and caught fish by the hundreds. We played baseball, basketball, and football for hours until it finally became too dark to see. We pretended that I was Tom Sawyer and he was Huck Finn. I'll miss my partner in crime.
J.D. lived his life as one big adventure... we should all do the same.
Godspeed little brother
Rick
