Little Tommy Tucker

I was only two and one half when my brother Thomas was born, so I don’t remember him coming home from the hospital. But I’m told that when he would sit in his high chair and scream for his food, I called him “Little Tommy Tucker” (the little guy who sang for his supper). And for seventy-odd years, our family has been calling him “Tuck.”

Like both of his sisters, Tuck was never bashful. After our sister Marjorie was born three years later, we were baptized at our grandmother’s church in Chicago near the Christmas season. During the baptism itself, Tuck asked the minister two questions: “What kind of car do you have?” And, “Do you have your Christmas tree up yet?”

Our father, Rudy, was an artist and did the decorating every year for the Golden Roosters’ Christmas party which was put on at the Palmer House for the jewelers of Chicago. He would take us along and have us help with the simpler tasks. Some of the time we would run the halls of the hotel, however, and one year we actually met the governor of Illinois, Adlai Stevenson. Tuck, a license plate collector by that time, had the nerve to ask the governor if he would be willing to send his old license plate to our address at the end of the year. (Unfortunately, but not surprisingly, it never arrived.)

I've been thinking a lot about Tuck recently, for I just finished reading “The Birth Order Book: Why You Are the Way You Are,” by Dr. Kevin Leman. I’m a pretty typical first-born, in that I was the most serious about education -- and, OK, I’ll admit it: I could be a bit bossy with my little siblings.

Margie, on the other hand, was typical of a youngest child and had a lot more fun than I did.

Middle children are the hardest to categorize, Dr. Leman says.  Because they can feel somewhat neglected, they often seek attention and friendship outside the family. When he was just 18 and a freshman in college, Tuck joined the Marine Corps, going to an extremely difficult summer camp with the understanding that he would finish college and then join. By his junior year, however, he transferred into the army as a helicopter pilot, served his country for two years in Vietnam and went on to have a full, successful career in the service.

Also, as a middle child, Tuck perpetually tried to be sillier than his sisters, making up nicknames. He called me “Big Liz Llama” and “Jessica Pimpleton of the Pimpleton Estates” called Margie “Nurse Connie Zuba to the Rescue,” and called an old friend “Algonquin Silvernail.”

Tuck is nevertheless more conservative than his sisters. He’s a serious Southern Methodist, whereas Margie is a liberal Jew and I’m an equally liberal Unitarian. And whereas we are democrats, Tuck is a republican.

Most of all, however, Tuck is a real gem. He is a wonderful repairman at home and is always helping neighbors and folks from his church. He and his lovely wife Peggy Jane have two extremely successful, mature children and nine delightful grandchildren. Their daughter Amy and her husband have been Presbyterian missionaries in Japan for 23 years, and their son, Bennett, has just retired as a major in the Air Force.

Tuck loves nothing more than spending time with his grandchildren, teaching them facts, especially about geography, and playing all sorts of games with them.

Little Tommy Tucker is a model human being, and I feel honored to be his big -- I hope not too bossy -- sister.