I think these shots are from 1968 or '69. My older brother Chris is the wolf/bear/whatever creature, and I'm the devil, of  course. Years later, I noticed the “Daredevil” logo on the chest and belt, but that's not why I got it. I wasn't into superheroes then. I assume my mom got both costumes for us, although, who knows, maybe we were allowed to pick them out. But one wonders about the weird amalgamation of new Marvel superhero and oldest villain of western civilization. I guess this was BBM: Before Brand Managers. It's like Marvel was Krusty the Clown: lending out images of its superheroes to any crappy merchandise that came along.

Chris and I are with our grandfather, Bedstefar, who was born in Schleswig-Holstein in the late 19th century, went to military school in Denmark, became a ship's architect in Copenhagen, and then moved to the U.S. in the early 1920s. He was one of the more fun, charming men I've known in my life. He was great with adults and even better with kids. Which is good because he had a mountain of grandkids. 

Mouse over the photo to see us tamed. 

Whenever we showed slides, and the moused-over image came on, with Chris and I, wearing these frightening masks, sitting politely on the steps with our hands folded in our laps, my father would burst out laughing.