The time when he nonchalantly told Mom and Dad that he might be moving back in with them pretty soon, and when they nodded assent, he quietly walked back out to his truck and brought in his bags.

The way he won a local bowling tournament one weekend at Valwood Lanes in Farmers Branch by just slightly beating all his opponents, whether they bowled well or poorly.

The way he could drive a golf ball.

The time when Dad took the ’60 Pontiac family car, that Lanny also got to drive, back to the tire store after buying a new set of tires because the right rear tire was wearing out. (didn’t have limited slip differentials back then)

The time a handcuffed Lanny, seated in the back seat of a Farmers Branch police car, calmly retrieved his driver’s license from the dash of the police car while the officers were outside the car at the 7-11 at Valwood and Josey quelling a disturbance. He later appeared from behind the hedges at the police station when Vic and Mark went there looking for him, handcuffs and all.

The time that Lanny, while trying to avoid police who were chasing him and Danny King on a motorcycle, jumped the cycle off an LBJ construction embankment and kept on going.

The time when he was 2 and I went back outside the house where I had been cleaning my bicycle chain with kerosene, and found Lanny with a toy teapot in his hand, and a little grease on the corner of his mouth. I ran in and told Mom that I thought he had drank some of the kerosene, and she and Dot put him in the car and got him to Parkland Hospital so fast, I almost didn’t know that they were gone. Sure enough, my fears were true. They pumped the greasy mess out of his stomach.

The time when Lanny was 11 and I was 22, recently out of the Navy, and we tracked down 3 or 43 juveniles who had borrowed some food and clothing from our house (while we were all at work), along with my .45 Colt Semi-Auto pistol. I called Norman, my Dallas Police Officer brother-in-law, and he brought two carloads of plain clothes police out and arrested the perpetrators. The leader was wearing my clothes, and some other kid returned my pistol a couple of days later, after finding it under the trailer house that the boys had been hiding in.

The story (which Vic can tell better) about the time Lanny, with Vic and Mike English along, raced Vic’s souped up 1966 Plymouth, racing slicks and all, up and down the main street of Farmersville until the police chief came out. Then they hightailed it for Field City, with State Troopers following until they lost them. A few days later, the police came to the house and got Lanny, and took him to get Vic at Collins Radio Company in Richardson, where he worked in building maintenance on the Morning Shift. Norman went with them for their appearance before the judge in Farmersville.

The go-kart I got him for Christmas of 1959. A friend teamed up with us and put a West Bend 580 engine on it and we raced it at the local go-kart tracks. It was a money pit. I remember the time that Lanny was driving it around the track and another boy with a Mac 10 engine blasted between Lanny and someone else on the far turn and knocked Lanny off the track. It knocked the chain off the sprocket, but that was the only damage and Lanny wasn’t hurt. The boy’s father apologized and helped us put the chain back on. We also tried to put a friend’s Harley 125 engine on it, with Dad’s welding help, but the carburetor never worked right.

The horse that Dad got Lanny because I had had one, that couldn’t be ridden. It had apparently been drugged when they went to look at it before buying it. It would let you ride it a for a little while, and then boom, you were on the ground. It happened to me a couple of times. One of our neighbors was a cowboy and came down with some friends to see what he could do. He rode the horse around a little with no trouble, and then put his 3 year old son behind him. The horse went just a few steps, and then started his bucking routine, and the boy went off and landed on his face and knocked out his front baby teeth.

The time when Lanny, Vic, Mark, and James Fletcher were pre-teens, and corralled about four horses on Mom’s and Dad’s place by putting a rope across the driveway entrance.

The time when we both were living with Mom and Dad on Charcoal Lane and Lanny came in before me one night and had gone to bed after emptying his pockets on the coffee table, along with his pack of cigarettes. I just happened to have a package of cigarette loads. I took several out of the pack and loaded one, then put the rest back in. I wasn't there for the excitement, but I understand that his crew had just finished lunch at a cafe in Plano and Lanny leaned back and lighted up. After a couple of puffs, the load went off and splattered tobacco across the table. Lanny calmly pulled out his pack, and lighted another one. He knew who had done it, but he never said anything. I had to ask about it.

The time we were on Steve's and Elaine's boat on Lake Lavon. Lanny was skiing, and Steve had thrown him into a wide and fast circle. When Lanny finally fell, he went skipping across the water, before disappearing underneath. Steve circled to get him, and Lanny said "I think I am going to need some help getting in the boat." His shoulder had been thrown out of socket. We could tell he was in a lot of pain, and we got him into the boat. Steve tried to help him pull it back into place, with Lanny doing the pulling, but it didn't work. We decided to take him to the McKinney Hospital, and headed back toward Monroe's and Evelyn's place on the beach. Lanny passed out as soon as we headed back. When he came to, I asked him if he wanted me to try putting it back in place, and he said okay. I had him lie down on the left side of the boat with his bad shoulder toward me. I put my right foot under his arm, and my left foot against his neck and took his arm and pulled it back into the socket. Lanny said it still hurt a little but it felt a whole lot better. They took him on to the hospital, and the doctor said that what I did is what he would have done.

The time Lanny and I worked Saturday and all day Sunday putting a water pipe from my house all the way up to Mother's house, about 1100 feet. We worked pretty well together, running the trencher and gluing the pipe together, covering it up and all. There weren't any leaks, and it hasn't leaked to this day.

The time two old locust trees by Mother's house had died and were leaning toward her house. Lanny and I removed the trees without damaging anything. Everytime I pass the two stumps, I think of him.

My daughter Melanie, her husband Mike, her mother Judy, her grandmother Edith, my son Chris, and my grandson Andy went with me to visit Lanny while he was staying at Mark's and Jo-Ann's home in Lewisville, right after New Years. This was the only chance Melanie would have to see Lanny since she lives out of Texas. Edith prayed for Lanny that night, and later, after Lanny's death, wrote a letter to Mom about it, and enclosed a verse for comfort, reprinted below.

When Lanny had to take Heparin shots to prevent blood clots, he had to have 1 cc every 6 hours, subcutaneously in the fatty tissue of the stomach. I gave him the shots when I was there, but he had to give himself the shot if I was away at work. He did very well at that, never complaining, but I could tell that he preferred me giving him all the shots. I also had to give him a Procrit shot 3 times a week in the derriere to build up his blood.

I thank God for Mark and Jo-Ann, who lovingly shared their home with Lanny when he first got sick, so that he would be close to his doctor and the Lewisville Medical Center, and cared for him. Mom stayed there some with Lanny, also. I am also thankful that Lanny came home to Mom's house for his last few weeks, so that I could spend more time with him and care for him. I quit most of my work so that I could be there more. When he got so weak he couldn't get up out of a chair without me lifting him, I felt that he couldn't last much longer. Another CT Scan was done around March 30 which revealed that the Gemsar chemotherapy wasn't slowing the growth of the cancer in the liver. He had a large hard knot below his lower right rib that apparently was his liver. The doctor took him off the chemo and said he would try him on something else after he had been off the Gemsar for 28 days. Lanny just barely made the twenty eight days.

On April 14, 1999, we checked Lanny into the Emergency Room of Lewisville Medical Center. Three nurses had asked a lot of necessary questions, and then took about a gallon of blood. Dot and I were in there with Lanny. Then the doctor came in, a woman possibly fresh out of medical school. She asked Lanny several of the same questions that the nurses had asked, which he answered okay, sometimes with the help of either Dot or myself. Then she wanted to check his mental ability. She asked him if he knew what day it was. After thinking about if for several seconds, Lanny weakly replied "Wednesday?" Correct! Then she asked what tomorrow was, and after the same routine, Lanny said "Thursday?" Correct again. Then she asked what month it was, and Lanny slowly replied "April?" Great. Then she asked what year it was. Lanny took just a little longer, and finally replied " ’36?" The doctor’s eyes immediately widened, and then a sheepish grin spread across Lanny’s face, and Dot and I just roared with laughter.

On Friday morning, April 23, 1999 at about 5:45 AM, Lanny said he wanted to go for a ride around the hospital, so the nurse got us a wheelchair. We got him into it and Lanny and I headed out, me pushing the wheelchair with one hand and pulling his IV pump rack with the other. He said he wanted to go outside, so we headed for the front door. They had just unlocked it when we got there, so we went out by the benches. I sat down by him and we watched the traffic and the clouds for a few minutes, then he said he couldn’t breathe very good. We headed back for the room and got him back in bed and turned on his oxygen. He took a nap.

On Saturday morning, one of Dr. Costa’s associates made the rounds, since Dr. Costa had the weekend off. Lanny’s blood pressure was very low, so the doctor had the nurse start a saline IV to help raise his blood pressure. She was trying to prolong his life as long as possible. As she was leaving, I walked out with her, and in the hall asked her how long, in her opinion, Lanny had left. She said that she thought he had 2 to 4 days. I called everyone and let them know. Lanny’s blood pressure came up quite a bit, but it wasn’t enough to make his kidney’s function properly. They slowly failed.

On Sunday night, April 25, 1999, Vic was spending the night also, and he slept in the recliner beside Lanny’s bed. I was sleeping on the chair Hide-A-Bed at the foot of Lanny’s bed. In the middle of the night, I heard Vic say "Lanny!" and he jumped to Lanny’s side. Lanny had ripped out the Mediport access in his chest. The nurse had to come in and install a new one.

On Monday night, April 26, 1999, the whole family was there. The doctor was back, and when he made his rounds, he frankly told Lanny that he didn't think Lanny was strong enough to undergo additional chemotherapy, and asked Lanny if he wanted him to give it to him anyway. The doctor didn't want to put Lanny through anything that might make him suffer more. Lanny understood what he meant, and told the doctor not to give him anymore chemotherapy. After the doctor left, Lanny started getting a little more restless. I could see that it was all sinking in, so I asked everyone if it was okay if I asked Lanny if he wanted to go ahead with the new chemotherapy. Everyone agreed, so I asked Lanny if he wanted to give it one more shot. He weakly replied "Yes". I went to talk to the doctor, and told him what Lanny had said, and he agreed to start the new chemo the next morning. I went back to the room and told Lanny, and he seemed to feel more relaxed after that. I was there alone with Lanny later that night. Vic had spent the weekend with me there, but he had to go home for a little while to finish up some contract work. I was sleeping in the recliner beside Lanny’s bed so I could touch him, and on three different occasions that night, Lanny ripped out the access to his Mediport where he was receiving the IV drip. I think he knew that the medicine he was receiving wasn’t going to save his life. Even though he had little strength, he was able to get hold of the access cover and just rip everything out in an instant. After the third time, I asked him to promise that he wouldn’t rip it out again, because we needed it to start his new chemo the next morning, and he promised. He didn’t rip it out anymore, but a couple of times his hand went up there to it, and I would just put my hand on his and tell him that he promised not to pull it out, and his hand would go down. It was hard being there with Lanny, trying to look as though everything was going to be okay, and not crying and grabbing him and hugging him. I remember him telling me once, shortly after he was told that the cancer had metastasized to his liver, that everyone was treating him like he was going to die and he didn't want to be treated like that. I resolved then to treat him like he was going to live. It was really hard this next morning when I heard him say "It ain't goin' to work!" He new that this new chemo threatment wasn't going to work, and he wasn't going to live this life much longer, and it was hard on him, and on all of us.

Lanny’s breathing had become very labored. With the cancer in the liver and the pancreas, the liver was swelling and pressing against his stomach and his diaphragm, and he had to breathe with his chest muscles. He would pull his rib cage up as far as he could for a breath, then relax for several seconds, before taking another breath. His lungs were also starting to hold fluid, so he didn’t have the normal capacity. He didn’t like to have the oxygen on for very long, for it seemed to bother him to have that tube sticking in his nose, and he definitely didn’t like having the mask on. He wouldn’t wear the mask at all until he went into his final coma. He didn’t have enough room in his stomach to eat more than 3 or 4 bites, so he wasn’t able to take in enough energy to keep him going.

The nurse told us how to tell when Lanny was reaching the end. She said his respiration rate would slowly change from the 16 per minute down to about 8 per minute, and then he wouldn’t have enough oxygen to sustain his energy enough to continue breathing. Lanny’s respiration rate was 16 on Wednesday morning. He was in pain and was becoming agitated, so we requested something for his pain and to calm him down. After they administered the medication, Lanny went to sleep and continued his labored breathing. His respiration rate went slowly down to 12 and just stayed there. It never got down to 8, and at 3:28 AM Thursday morning, with Jeannette by his side and the rest of us close by, he took his last labored breath. His earthly life was finished.

I asked Lanny once, during this last stay in the hospital, that if something unexpected happened, that he could assure me that he had accepted Jesus Christ as his saviour, and had repented of his sins, and he said yes. I just wanted to be sure that if he hadn’t that we would have time to talk about it and he would then have the chance to accept Jesus. I wanted to be sure that Lanny and I would see each other and our Mom and Dad, and the rest of our family who had accepted Jesus and had repented of their sins, in Heaven.

Even though I know that Lanny is with Jesus, it is still painful to know that he won’t be physically here to join the family celebrations of the future, but he will always be in our memories. I am thankful for the 51 years I had him here as a big younger brother and cherish these memories. I am thankful that he isn’t in anymore pain, and that he is in a wonderful place now in the presence of God.

The one thing that I seem to never forget is when Lanny was 3 or 4 years old and it snowed during the night. He was barefoot, in his little boxer pants and no shirt. He started laughing, and jumping up and down and ran out of the house and around and around the house. The snow just fascinated him. Then when he was about the same age Dad caught him swiping cigarette butts and trying to smoke them. He thought he would break Lanny from smoking so he sat him on the couch and gave him a lighted cigar. Dad thought it would make him sick and he would quit trying to smoke. Was he wrong! Lanny just kept smoking the cigar. He liked it. Lanny always did have a mind of his own and was also a man of few words. I am so glad he is my brother and I love him very much.

All I can say about Lanny is "WOW – WHAT A GUY". Very quiet and reserved, yet a sense of humor surpassed by none. In the most trying of times, Lanny could change the mood with just a few words. I remember the time I was a passenger in a 1963 Corvette that Lanny was driving. We were south bound on Hwy. 77 at about 150 mph when we remembered the water main being installed across the highway. Lanny slammed on the brakes, and put the Corvette into a spin. We came to a stop with my door about 6 inches from the barricade and a 20 foot deep ditch. After a few moments, I turned to look at Lanny, and he said with that special grin of his, "Close, huh?" I have never known any other person as calm and collected as my Uncle Lanny.

Another time that comes to mind was the skiing trip. Lanny and Mark came to take me home from work at 2:00 AM, right in the middle of a snow storm. After a quick assessment of the situation, we decided to ski home. With Lanny holding a door handle on one side of the car, me on the other side, and Mark driving, we started home. The road was very rough and bumpy, so the smooth appearance of the snow on the Sears-Roebuck parking lot (before Valley View Mall was built) at LBJ and Preston Rd. was very inviting. We were having the time of our life when, suddenly, we were surrounded by police. Weapons drawn, they lined Mark, Lanny, and me against the car and searched us. As we faced the semi-circle of furious lawmen, one of them asked what we thought we were doing at 3:00 AM in the morning. After a brief silence, Lanny grinned and said, "Oh, just slippin’ and slidin’ around." The policemen began laughing and slipping and tried to regain their composure. Finally they told us to go home, so with Lanny on his side and me on the other, Mark pointed the ’60 Pontiac in the direction of home, and away we went.

In 1968 when Lanny was only 20 years old and you had to be 21 to drink, he wanted to go out with the guys one night, so we switched driver’s licenses. This was before pictures were on the licenses. Later that night, while I was still at work around 3:00 AM, Grandad called me and said, "Butch, you better go get yourself out of jail." So I went down to the Dallas Police Station and told them I wanted to bail Victor Bramhall out of jail. They brought Lanny out, stood him beside me and asked for my driver’s license, and looked at the descriptions of both of us. They could tell we had swapped licenses, and were trying to catch us in a mistake. They put the release papers in front of us and told us to sign them. Lanny started with a capital L, the way he usually signs, then thought about it and wrote Victor to the left of it and Bramhall to the right. I signed Lanny’s name on the release, and the officer handed Lanny his driver’s license and mine to me. We stood looking at the licenses, at each other, and at the officers. Lanny calmly traded with me, grinned and said "Take me home, Lanny", and we left.

There has never been anyone like him and there never will be. We shared everything. We did everything together. After all, we were the same age. He taught me to play baseball. He taught me to bowl, to shoot a gun and to play golf. We were pretty much inseparable.

One of the hardest times in my life was the two years that he was in the Army and I was still here. We had a lot of good times and even a few brushes with the law, but we were always together.

Lanny has been and always will be "MY BEST FRIEND" and I love him deeply.

Lanny came into my life when I was 2 years old, and he has been here ever since. Lanny raised me as his own. He was a great cook, and he loved to cook everything with onions because he said they were good for you. I love him with all of my heart and I will never forget him.

I remember that when I was pretty little, I didn't know what to think of Lanny because I could never understand him. He always talked so quietly. It would sort of surprise me when I sometimes understood things he was saying! I was a goofy kid.

Grandma and Grandpa had a picture of him in his combat clothes looking like he was jumping out of an airplane, and I remember looking at that picture a lot as a child. My most recent memory, aside from visiting him at Mark and Jo-Ann's at New Year's, was playing computer golf with him one evening at Grandma's. He was very good at showing me how to play it and giving me tips on how to play it well. I think we all spent a couple of hours in that back room in Grandma's house playing that golf game and having a great time. We also had some enjoyable conversations about golf in general and I was touched when he loaned me that putter. I asked him when he wanted it back and he told me to keep it as long as I could use it.

Mother said that Sheila remembers being over at the house watching us kids several times and Lanny would come over and take her motorcycling.

Since I can not remember much about anything before I was in high school, I do not have much to say. I do know that Lanny was a great uncle, although I did not get much of a chance to see him over the years. I am going to miss him. I think I am like Lanny in a few ways, I just kind of do my own thing.

I do remember one thing. One evening at the house on Charcoal Lane, I was just a kid sitting at the table (probably trying to figure out which one of my pants pockets I could hide more okra in). Lanny came walking in with a bottle of Jack Daniels in his hand, and had been drinking it. I can not quite remember everyone that was there but Lanny was either real thirsty or just "showing off" and turned up the bottle and downed over half the bottle. He stayed in the living room for a bit and then "wobbled" off to the back bedroom. A couple of minutes later I headed for the bathroom and he was on the floor "vomiting everywhere". Dad and Grandma (I think) cleaned up the mess and put him in bed. I bet he did not drink much Jack Daniels after that.

Hey, another memory just popped into my forgetful mind. Somehow my dad talked Lanny into letting me go "help" him at his job as an electrician, wiring new homes as they were built. From what I can remember, all I had to do was hand him stuff every now and then. We went to lunch, then went back to work so I could "hand" him some more stuff.

One other time Lanny and a friend he worked with came in and they were smoking. I think I was about 9 or 10 and I said "I can smoke a cigarette." Of course they gave me one. I took one drag and started coughing so hard I almost threw up. Lanny just laughed and pointed his finger at me.