I wanted my book with signatures! Most of the people who signed it had left school already. But there was nothing I could do (strangling Arlo wouldn't bring my book back), so I swallowed, thanked him, and took the book. To this day, there is only one signature in that book - Arlo's. I wouldn't trade that signature for any others in the world.
Arlo helped my family & I move years ago, and we loaded up his truck before he told me that he truck wasn't running well. I guess this should not have surprised me (knowing Hagler cars), but I wish that he had told me sooner! I asked him what we should do, after several attempts to start the car failed. "Well, it will start if I can roll it down a hill...." We looked around. No hills. "Where are the hills?" Arlo asked. "None close by that I can see!" We got a neighbor to jump-start the thing, then shoved off. Soon after we got going, we heard something fall off the truck, and crash to the ground. But all we lost was that full-length mirror, got everything else arrived intact.
Brotherly love is a strange and wonderful thing. Arlo always sent me funny cards for my birthday and other occasions. This was his comment in my 7th grade slam book:
One year, I got a real flowery Mother's Day card from Arlo. On the envelope was Arlo's usual greeting: "To a Real Mother...From her Soul Brother". Inside the card were saccharine sentiments about the preciousness of having a sister such as me. Brought a tear to my eye. Then I read Arlo's signature: "Don't look at me - I didn't write the damned thing!"
Many memories were shared at Mateel Community Center in Redway CA., during his Celebration of Life. As I told him the last time I saw him: "You are leaving the world a better place for having been here." It just wasn't long enough.