Those who read my story, "Sweat Bees Just Bite Lazy People," may be interested in knowing that my brother, Philip, my arch enemy when we were growing up in Bowen Creek, West Virginia, in the 1940s and '50s, passed away June 4, 2005, from lung cancer.  He was sixty-four.  His funeral was Tuesday, June 7.  Philip suffered a great deal, but now his days of suffering have come to an end.  I desperately wanted to write more about our Appalachian childhood from his perspective, but I waited too long to sit down with him and pick his brain.  His secrets are now locked up for all eternity.  Once again I ask myself the same question I asked after the death of my mother and father:  Why do we put off asking those whom we love to share their inner thoughts with us for others' enjoyment?  Once again I cannot answer my own question. 

I will miss my brother.