Seeing double: a new look at twins

Ebony, April, 1993 by Douglas C. Lyons

Twins Bodney and Roger Wagner are two young businessmen who have made things happen. They currently own three "I Can't Believe It's Yogurt" franchises in Dallas in a lifelong partnership that goes back 28 years. "The thought never occurred to me about going into business with anybody else," Roger says. "It was like second nature. I knew that no one would work harder or share the same beliefs any better than my brother."

Wagners seem inseparable.

As high school students, the two turned down enticing athletic college scholarships to attend the same school. Both still enjoy each other's company as adults, and they aren't above playing those typical twin pranks on a confused and unsuspecting world.

They pulled their most memorable prank as junior college basketball players during the closing seconds of a playoff game. Both twins were in the game when a foul sent Rodney to the free throw line. However, Roger went to the line instead because, as he put it, Rodney wasn't shooting particularly well.

"The referee looked right at my face and gave me the ball," Roger recalls with a laugh. "Some of the players caught it, but the ref didn't."

The referee wasn't the only one the pair fooled. The twins say their wives, Angela and Sedonna, initially had a tough time figuring out which Wagner was their husband. "When she [Angela] calls the office, I sometimes act like Roger," Rodney says. "Our wives didn't know who was who at first, but now its not a problem. They know us."

Lorraine Murray, a mother of teenage twins, Bernice and Denice, in Irvington, N.J., concedes that she sometimes has trouble identifying her daughters. "I hate to admit it, but sometimes I still can't tell them apart," she says. "If you pay attention, you can hear a difference in their voices."

Denice, known by her nickname, DeeDee, is the outgoing of the two. Her sister, Bernice, nicknamed Dahli, is more reserved. The two can speak in unison. If one starts a sentence, the other will finish it. The sisters have gone as far as to answer teachers' questions addressed to the other sibling.

The two hope to become filmmakers. In the meantime, they will settle for the fun that comes with being a teen-twin.

Like the Murrays, Derrick and Darrell Foxworth exploit the fun of twinning. "I once took a math test for him," Derrick recalls. "I just went into his class and told his teacher that I was Darrell. "

Besides standing in for each other, the brothers once shared a paper route, held part-time jobs at the same fast-food chain and attended the same college. At 34, they both ended up in law enforcement. Derrick is a police sergeant in Portland; Darrell is an FBI agent in Los Angeles.

Derrick, the younger twin by 23 minutes, joined the Portland Police Department in 1981. His work soon began causing problems for Darrell, who was sometimes mistaken for a cop working drug and vice cases.

"Portland began to get too small," Darrell says with a laugh. "People would approach me thinking that I was him. Some were grateful. Others were upset. I remember times where some guy sitting in a restaurant would give me a dirty look. it was like, |Hey, I got to get a job where I can carry a gun.'"