Paralyzed in body yet nimble of mind would have been an apt description of my brother, Billy Stutler, who was truly of indomitable spirit. With his legs rendered useless at an early age from M.D.- Muscular Dystrophy. Billy was confined to a wheelchair - a bleak existence by and standard.

Yet, his zest for adventurous living seemed a magnet to the young boys of our neighborhood, not to mention his siblings. William Delmas, born in 1950, was Billy's younger brother and in several instances was his partner in crime, as were also his their cousins, the Shrader boys.

Before Billy got his pony and wagon to better get around, he had an old rickety wheelchair. It barely served the purpose on level ground, let alone the dirt roads and rough terrain of farmland country. Its small wheels were so averse to being anywhere near easy to push around that the boys mostly had to try and heft it wherever they wanted to go.

One summer day, in the early sixties, the boys went exploring around the creek chasing crawdads and minnows. They followed up a branch of the creek that came out of a nearby hollow.

However, its features were not new to Delmas because several weeks earlier he had made his own excursion to this old homestead, and after a trepid exploration, had hauled home what he considered to be free rein booty.

Our father, on the other hand, viewed it as mettlesome pilfering, so after a heated lecture and threats of bodily harm, Delmas was made to cart his lifted loot back to exactly where he had found it.

Yet now, in circling the forbidden fruit so to speak, he reasoned that since he didn't plan to filch anything, some further exploration with his pals would surely be alright, although the tightness in his chest as they entered the old house was much more the prickings of conscience than fright.

As they tiptoed through the shadowy rooms, aligned like baby ducks, they uncertainly peered about. They soon found themselves at the foot of the dark, looming staircase. With Delmas in the lead they tentatively creeped forward.

Suddenly Delmas jerked and spun around liked a spooked horse as he blurted something about shoes and feet while springing between the others. The boys teetered on the steps until they regained their footing and then joined Delmas in a dash for the door slamming through nonstop until they reached they reached the yard and Billy. Grabbing up his wheelchair almost as fast as they ran by, Billy muttered, then commanded, "Whoa, hold it, boys."

He asked them what they were running from. Delmas, panting and in a quivering voice, reported that someone was hiding out there for he saw man's feet at the top of the stairs. At which point Ron asserted that was impossible. After they palavered a bit, the decided that they simply must seize the day and reassess the situation.

Therefore shortly, except for Billy, they again found themselves aligned at the foot of the stairs with Delmas taking the lead, wearing a resolute frown, Ron in the middle, and poor nervous-nellie Donald bringing up the rear.

They gingerly crept forward a step at a time then paused to look and listen until, atop the landing, the outline of a dark shadowy figure became more visible. At this point Delmas, who had the closer view, cried, "Monster!"