In Memory of

Thank God for my little brother Tim! It’s as if God knew how much I needed Tim in my life and sent him to me.  He was my only brother, but more like an angel sent here to help me along my way. He was always there for me, during good times and bad, no matter what, with a smile and a helping hand.  The stories are limitless and words could never express my feelings for Tim, but here’s how I remember it.

Tim and I were closer than most.  Growing up as kids we shared everything, even a bedroom, until I left the house after high school. We weren’t poor, but didn’t have money either, so we shared everything from clothes, toys and books, as well as all our thoughts and dreams.  As teenagers, when our friends were beginning to get cars, driving Chevys and Fords, we were sharing an old broken down Opel Kadett. This thing was as old as the hills and ran only if it was in a good mood. Tim and I would work together, like most things in life, and we would find a way to keep that car running. As I recall, that car had no reverse, so we had to put it in neutral and push with our feet on the pavement to back it up. It didn’t matter if it was that old car, a bicycle, a tricycle or a skateboard, Tim and I were on the same team in this game of life.

We found out at a young age that we depended on each other to survive, and we learned that helping each other along the way was the best way for us. Ok, I can admit, sometimes my decisions were not always the best, and being the older brother I may have sometimes taken things to far… like the time I was teaching Tim how to play Chicken out in our yard. Chicken is a game where one person stands bare foot in the grass and the other person throws a knife into the ground to see how close the knife comes to the foot. If you move your foot you’re a chicken and loose the game.  Obviously I was the thrower for this game and Tim was playing the part of the Chicken. For safety reasons, I reassured Tim that it would be much safer using a screwdriver than a knife. Needless to say, Tim eventually ended up with a screwdriver sticking in his foot, all because I asked him to play that stupid game with me.

Tim and I had lots of good times growing up together, always trying new things together with that childlike excitement of the unknown. Like the time Tim had convinced himself he could fly. We had the whole neighborhood of kids over one day to show them that he could really do it. So as Tim hung on the edge of the roof with his Mary Poppins umbrella, we were all standing below encouraging him to angle the umbrella into the wind just right and then jump off the roof. Needless to say, that didn’t work out so well for Tim that day when he hit the ground, but making someone smile with wonder anticipating the jump was what brought happiness to Tim. Tim was always happy when others were happy. If that meant jumping off a roof or letting me throw a screwdriver into his foot, he was a gamer. I remember all so well, before every new school year, it was the same ritual over and over again. I would get new clothes to start the year. Tim, being the younger, smaller, brother would always get stuck with my old clothes. What I remember most about Tim was that he would graciously accept my old hand-me-downs with a smile and a new joke every year, and was mainly concerned with the well-being of others around him. That’s just how Tim was in life with everything and what made him so special to everyone he touched with his kindness and generosity.

Needless to say, I respected Tim for everything he stood for as a human being.  As young adults, after our college years, we found ourselves together again as roommates throughout much of our adult lives. Because of our history, there was a trust between Tim and me that was undeniable and unbreakable. But interestingly enough, Tim and I were complete opposites with most everything. I remember Tim going to the gym with me one day just to get out of the house. We all know how Tim felt about exercising and working out. He despised it. So, while I was getting a workout, Tim was sitting at the front door smoking his cigarettes. This was at a time in his life when he was learning his cigarette trick. So as he would take a puff, he would be practicing nonchalantly, making it disappear, breaking it up into little pieces and putting it back together again to take another puff, pulling it out of, and blowing smoke out of, every orifice in his body, and just practicing his craft, until a small crowd began to form around him. When Tim noticed that some local kids were so mesmerized by what they were seeing, and as the crowd begin to grow, he pulled out the coins. Before you know it, Tim had the whole gym surrounding him in awe and amazement begging to know all his little secrets.  Wherever I went with him, it was always the same thing. This was what made Tim tick. He was always looking for ways to make someone smile with wonder… and always looking for that perfect trick. All Tim ever wanted in life was to simply bring happiness into someone’s life. Something as simple as a smile from a stranger could make Tim’s day.

I remember many Friday and Saturday nights when we were teenagers, I would be sneaking in the bedroom window in the early AM, and Tim was still wide awake in front of the mirror with his little table and pad, working out some magic trick to perfection. He could stay up for days at a time working out every little detail over and over again. He was so focused on his craft and so driven that his sleeping patterns became very unhealthy. When he would finally solve a problem in his mind and decide to crash, he could sleep for weeks at a time, no problem.  At times he could get so hung up on a problem mentally, he wouldn’t know what was going on around him. One example is when I would ride shotgun with him in his car, many times, while it was raining. After the rain stopped, Tim would never remember to turn off the windshield wipers. It was the craziest thing. The sun was out and the wipers were dry-screeching across the windshield, over and over again, like fingernails on a chalkboard, over and over again, longer and longer, with Tim totally oblivious to it all, so deep in thought trying to figure out some magic trick while driving down the highway. Never met someone so passionate about his craft.

Most people who knew Tim may not know he was a great hypnotist. I remember when Tim decided he was going to learn hypnosis. It didn’t take him long and he was bringing people back to the house to practice his new hobby. I’ve seen Tim hypnotize many people on several different occasions. I’ve seen Tim make grown men cry like a little baby begging for his mamas’ milk. I’ve seen the most beautiful of women just devastated and heartbroken because he has them convinced they’re the ugly ducklings of the world.  The talent this man processed was just mind-boggling. This guy could do anything he set his mind to, and his mind was “simply phenomenal.”

I could write forever about Tim. The stories are endless, but through it all, Tim became a master of his craft. With lots of hard work and love for his fellow man, Tim became one of the greatest magicians/psychic entertainers this world has ever seen. But so much more important to me, was what he stood for as a human being. Tim Conover had more integrity, more heart and soul than any man I’ve ever known. He was a man of ethics and values that we should all learn to live by. Like I said earlier, words could never express my feelings towards Tim and how honored I am to have had Tim as my brother, because Tim always had a heart of gold and a twinkle in his eye that said…“smile and make my day”.

RIP Timothy Gene Conover. The best man I’ve ever known.