HEROES

(this article was written - I think - in 2002 or so)

In the world today it has become common to lament the lack of heroes.The fact that George Washington owned slaves is now common knowledge (and the ridiculous motivation for some schools to change their name); that he provided for his slaves in his will is rarely noted.

So today I tell the tale of a hero; a man born in 1925 in Scotland, the third of four children.

Little is known about the father of four except that he fought in WWI and died young, leaving his wife and four children.

My hero, raised by his widowed mother, remembers little about his childhood - just fragmented memories he has shared with his children and grandchildren - but a picture emerges.

He was raised in a slum outside of Glasgow, Scotland. His mother worked three jobs to keep food on the table, but was home in the morning when he left for school and home when he returned. From this we learn that no matter how great the financial need, it is always possible to be home with your children.

He remembers being caught stealing sugar off a horse-drawn cart and being punished by five adults before he even got home - where, I'm sure, he was punished again. From this he taught us accountability.

He remembers the only time he got near his older brother's bike was when he was "allowed" to wash it. What a wonderful example of being grateful for what you get and not bitter for what you don't.

His older brother was at some point caught in some minor crime. Because their resemblance was so strong and because the family could not afford the brother losing a day's pay, it was my hero who turned up on the dreaded morning before a judge to accept the punishment. From this we learned that the needs of the family are at times more important than the needs of the individual.

Like his older brother, he went to work full time in ship building at the age of 14. He was so young he wore short pants under his work clothes and played soccer with his workmates during his brief lunch break.

The boy grew to be a man, and at the age of 25 left Scotland alone and traveled to Canada. After many misadventures, he met a woman also from Scotland; showing some good sense and a flash of brilliance, they soon married and moved to Michigan.

He had three children in Michigan, moved to California, had three more and buried one.

My dad was a great father while it was still "raising your kids," as opposed to "parenting". I remember someone once asked him why he took his kids with him everywhere, to which he replied, "Whose kids am I supposed to bring with me?"

He was a man that wouldn't have dreamt of buying any of his five children a car, but spent untold hours doing questionable repairs on the ones we purchased on our own. Perhaps his greatest gift, he taught us that anything worth owning is worth working and saving for.

Thanks to the example he set, his two sons grew to be men, and when he walked his three daughters down the aisle, it was to marry men. And when I say "men", I don't mean tall boys. I mean men that take their responsibilities as husbands and fathers seriously and with unfailing good humor.

The stories of my dad's childhood would be worthy of any analyst's couch; instead, he has used them to greatly educate and entertain his children. We learned that life is seldom easy and not always fair; we learned that the story of our lives is not what happens to us but how we choose to deal with what we are dealt; we learned about responsibility and honor. When my dad is on a roll and talking, numerous pots of coffee are consumed and no one dreams of turning on the TV, regardless of what team is playing.

So, like me, I bet you don't have to look far to find a hero for your children. And let us be grateful everyday for being so blessed to have these people in our lives.