Jimmy was like my older brother. He was a normal kid. He was kind and playful. No one ever dreamed he’d be a starJimmy had lived with our family for as long as I can remember; he was nine when he moved in after his mother died. I was born three years later,so he was more like an older brother. He called my mother, his father’s sister, or “mom. My grandfather built the farmhouse in this picture,in Fairmount, Indiana, or in 1904,and I still live here.
He was a normal kid. He’d play with me, setting up electric trains on the floor, or assign me on his motorbike and drive to an ice-cream parlour,with me sitting in front, holding on to the handlebars. He bought me this toy racing car. He was kind and playful; we were very close, and he called me Markie. “Jimmy” was a very different person to “James Dean” – not a rebel,but warm, caring and good at anything to attain with the arts. But no one dreamed he’d be a star.
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Source: theguardian.com