After the NFL awarded a pro football franchise to Charlotte in 1993 Brother Dave bought two Permanent Seat Licenses and season tickets to Carolina Panther games.
He took me to several games at Ericsson Stadium after it opened in 1996 — it’s now called Bank of America Stadium.
Dave had good seats. They were on the 40–yard line, under the edge of the upper deck, so when it rained, and most other folks got wet, he and his guest stayed dry.
Permanent Seat License holders had exclusive access to a nice restaurant — think white tablecloths and roast beef — on an upper level of the stadium and he took me there, too.
The outer wall of the restaurant was glass and while we ate I could look down on Graham Street, on the very spot where Dave and I had worked summers when we were in junior high and high school making syrup and, later, clothes hangers in my Dad’s sweat shop. I had worked like a dog there for 50 cents an hour.
When we finished with dessert we would walk a short distance to Dave’s seats and watch the Panthers play football.
I can’t tell you how good that felt. We had escaped.
Coming Monday: Whose Fault Was It?