And He Was My Big Brother.
I did not limit my college sisterhood experiences to my sorority; I also became a “Little Sis” at my favorite fraternity.
“Favorite” is relative. Of the four fraternities on campus, I found each one endearing for different reasons. It depended mostly on who was having a party that weekend.
But as the oldest of three girls, I’d always wanted a big brother, so I actually searched for a brother to adopt. After begging one of my dearest friends at SAE to be dubbed his Little Sis, he agreed. I could finally call someone “Brother.”
Angelo was a campus legend. There wasn’t a soul at Mount Union who didn’t know and love him – or if there was, I never knew about it. First of all, he smiled all the time – which made everyone around him feel liked. And second, Angelo had a darling Puerto Rican accent which, unlike in my current area, was rare and beautiful in Alliance, Ohio.
Maybe more importantly, Angelo was always the most enthusiastic person on the dance floor – which made everyone else enthusiastically dance, too. If a party was slow, Angelo never hesitated to brighten the mood. He didn’t seem to have any inhibitions or qualms about just being himself – which was fun.
And he was my Big Brother.
If he had other Little Sisters, he never let on. Angelo treated me like I was special. I danced to the Supremes’ Stop in the Name of Love about a gazillion times, laughing and watching Angelo, who just kind of made the song his own. I once rode to the airport with Angelo – which was notable not only because we actually left campus, but because it was the first time I’d ever been stopped by a police car. He’d been (only slightly) speeding: 68 in a 55. I know this because another time, I got a ticket for going 68 in a 55 and thought immediately of Angelo. (I have an unusual knack for remembering numbers.)
I remember when Angelo played volleyball for more than 24 hours straight as some sort of Guiness World Record-breaking attempt. I interviewed Big Bro for the school newspaper later and he told me that after 24 hours of standing outside “playing” volleyball, he’d started to hallucinate – dreaming while still awake. At one point he’d thought the frat house was on fire.
But I don’t remember Angelo ever being angry, sad, grouchy or even frustrated, although I think he was disappointed when he got that speeding ticket. I just remember enjoying his company. Years and years later, Angelo is still much loved. When he was hospitalized with COVID, approximately 10,000 of his closest friends prayed for him.
He survived.
Of course, having Angelo as a Big Bro did not stop me from also becoming a Little Sis at another fraternity too, a couple of years later. The second time my Big Bro was two years younger than me, and just wanted to have a Little Sis. I adored him – and his frat, too – so I happily agreed. And at every party we drank together like insane people well after everyone else passed out on the floor.
Big Bro #2 was incredibly fun, although Angelo will always be my “real” Big Bro. And for the rest of time, when I hear Stop in the Name of Love! I will see Angelo, in my head, dancing.