Mom (Eunice) and Dad (Lester) got tired of me and Charles bickering as we got older. So, they bought a couple of pairs of boxing gloves. Charles didn’t like the gloves. He preferred fists.

Whenever Charles and I got in a fight, we’d have to put on the boxing gloves and duke it out. I could get the best of him with the gloves, and he didn’t like it. I’d hit him two or three times pretty good, and he’d start crying. So he’d sling his gloves off and say “come on and fight me with your fists!” He was tough and mean, and could hurt me in a fist fight, so I’d keep my gloves on to keep my advantage.

Usually when Charles had enough, mom and dad would take the gloves off and put us in separate parts of the yard to sulk.