Looking for a Hero . . .
Holding Out for A Hero*
Where have all the good men gone And where are all the gods? Where's the streetwise Hercules to fight the rising odds? Isn't there a white knight upon a fiery steed? Late at night I toss and I turn And I dream of what I need
I need a hero
I'm holding out for a hero 'til the end of the night He's gotta be strong And he's gotta be fast And he's gotta be fresh from the fight I need a hero I'm holding out for a hero 'til the morning light He's gotta be sure And it's gotta be soon And he's gotta be larger than life! Larger than life!
When thinking about a hero I have to confess that my thoughts have been a great deal like the lyrics of this song that Bonnie Tyler made popular. I grew up with heroes, police and firemen that I have written of before. I am a woman who was born in the 40”s and every single day I was exposed to friends, neighbors, citizens of my small hamlet who had just returned from a war. World War II made quiet heroes, men who returned and never spoke of their “fight.” Maybe it was not the thing to do, keeping all that deep inside, but I can tell you that a whole generation managed to pull that off. I came to expect a hero around the next corner, they were everywhere.
But as I grew older, heroes faded a bit from my life, as the fathers of the Baby Boomers began to die. I still search for heroes, but my criteria are not the same I had in my younger days. My hero does not have to be “fresh from the fight,” sit on a “fiery steed” or even be “larger than life.” Nowadays I look for a more self-effacing hero. I am impressed by a fellow who is kind, courteous, and protective. I would bet the few heroes I do find do have a warrior’s heart, but it is not the main quality that impresses me.
And now I will mix my metaphors, or change my tune and quote from L. Frank Baum’s book, The Wonderful Wizard of Oz:
“If I ever go looking for my heart's desire again, I won't look any further than my own back yard.” For lately when I have found a hero, it has been in that very spot . . . in my own back yard.
Here’s an example:
As a polio survivor, I have had to resort to using a walker on wheels, that device known to us old folks as a “rollator.” Now, if I had good sense I would recognize and submit to my limitations, but I confess it, I am forgetful, no, make that careless, and go on about my life as if I am still in my thirties. This caught up with me one day when my American flag fell from its flag pole, and I could not tolerate that and felt I should act quickly. So, I headed down the hill in my front yard to retrieve it (I know, I should live on a flat spot, but my house was bought when I was young and never thought about being 70+.) Well, I was rolling along pretty fast for me, and realized this was clearly not the most clever move I had ever made. So, I did what any gal would do, and squeaked and high-tailed it back up the hill. Watching all this was my neighbor across the street, let’s call him Brian, and he called out to ask if I needed help. You bet I did, and Brian came over and got the flag and quite simply saved me. My hero!
Brian is a young hero, but he qualifies because of his kind heart. He bought his house a year or two ago, works all the time on making it look nice, and seems to be able to do all manner of things from landscaping to renovating vehicles. We don’t talk much, but as a self-appointed surrogate mom, I watch his comings and goings out my large kitchen window. I told him he is part of my life as he is leaving for work as I start my day with a cup of coffee. I always say a little prayer that he will be safe and return home unscathed.
But Brian went a step further by being a hero twice in a couple of weeks. There was a flash flood and some new folks to the neighborhood left out boxes, etc. which floated down the hill and into the middle of our street. I had given up stunts on my rollator and so left this task undone, hoping a hero would appear. And when I looked out the window the next day, all the detritus was gathered up and neatly piled at Brian’s curb for pick up by our sanitation guys. When I next saw my hero at the grocery store I thanked him and told him he was my hero.
The grocery store brings me to hero # 2. Inevitably when I am shopping I need some item from a top shelf and there is no one anywhere around. But today when I was just cruising an aisle to see if I needed anything there, up popped another hero. I was not even in distress or need, but this young man just offered to get anything that I might not be able to reach. It was like a magical apparition, a hero who appears out of nowhere.
In the movies these days they have Avengers, Ant-Man, Captain America, Guardians, Superman, and so forth. But I prefer reality and a true helper when I am in dire straits. Ladies, I say put your money on the guy with the good heart, the true guy, the hero will who come to the aid of a little old lady. That is the kind of man you want in your life. He will stand the test of time, he will be your mate and friend . . . and he does not even need a cape.
Writer/s: DEAN PITCHFORD, JIM STEINMAN