I've been lucky enough in my life to have met some men and women I'd call heroes. All of them, to a soul, would reject that appellation. That's part of the charm, to be honest. Self-aware heroics... aren't.
They were, they will tell you if they are willing to talk about it at all, just doing what anyone else'd do. Or just doing their job. Just.
There's nothing simple at all about being willing to put your own self in danger in order to help others. To stand in the breach long enough for the innocent and guilty alike to reach safer ground. To leap out into the wilderness to face fires that sweep towards homes where children lie sleeping all unaware.
To grab a pitifully small bag of gear, jump into a rusty pickup truck, and drive hell-for-leather over hundreds of miles of bad road. Knowing that you're inadequate to the task that waits for you at the end, but that you won't be alone, there are others converging on the crash site. That maybe, just maybe, these few will be sufficient to pull off a miracle. That you're going to try, dammit, because no one should die alone on the side of the road far from home.
None of them got up that morning thinking about being a hero. Some of them left parts of themselves lying on the ground mingled with the blood of those they couldn't save. Some of them never really made it home again in spirit, even if the body staggered through the door mere hours later. Many, many of them got up the next morning and did it all over again. Because that's what heroes do. It doesn't end in blazing glory. Even if there is recognition of a single act that was above and beyond the call of duty, there's another day, another call, another moment where they might or might not make a difference, but by god they will try.
They will stumble, they will fall, but then they stagger onwards to the next time, the next day. They don't give up. They simply do what is asked of them, and put themselves in danger while the world around them asks more than a human should have to give. We are all the better for such souls among us.
Yesterday when I was calling for help for my friend and collaborator Lawdog, I mentioned that it took me from a childhood growing up around hometown heroes to truly understand the ramifications of having a big heart. Dad was a medic, a firefighter, and involved in search and rescue. I was also involved with SAR and met many in that environment who were humble to the point where you might find out about their heroic efforts only by accident. I'm not saying that all police, EMTs, or firefighters are saints. Far from it. I have a vantablack sense of humor for a reason, and, well, that started when I was a wee little blonde moppet. However... they make a choice. They have big hearts, and I mean that very literally. The human heart adapts to the use it is put to, just like any other muscle. Over time, the adrenaline rush of responding to calls, to exerting oneself to inhuman levels, this takes a toll on the heart. Dad had his first 'cardiac event' while doing ice rescue training. He jokes that he provided extra-good training that day, glossing over that a heart devoted to a life of serving others was literally giving out, having grown beyond the capacity of the body to support it. He is not alone in this. The mental is even harder to see than the physical effects. Yet, still, they continue to 'do their job.'
Choosing to run into a fire, with the idea that you will be able to either put it out, or more likely in the case of wildfire fighter, deflect a raging inferno away from homes in danger? That requires a whole other set of impulses than an ordinary human being has. Choosing to spend your day responding to calls of criminal activity, with the idea of keeping a community safe? They don't get paid enough (I'm not indulging in hyperbole here. My local tiny town police force pays barely more than the nearby ItchyPaw Panda Express pays it's workers). Nor does this make every first responder a hero automatically. However, there are so many stories of going above and beyond. Because they are on the leading, bleeding edge of humanity, in the most literal senses. Yes, they just did their job. And that made all the difference.
We are, as a society, in a bad situation. In the backlash against the idea of heroes, we have begun to undermine the idealism that drives some into these thankless professions. I even touched on that above, in stating that not all of these men and women are saintly in their motivations and actions. We ask so much more of them, hold them to higher standards, and in recent decades? Have begun to pick away at them, looking for any flaws at all, so we can point and say aha! there are feet of clay down there. There is a balance between accountability, and support for the extraordinary circumstances they find themselves in. The situation Lawdog finds himself in stems from corruption and politics in small town policing and justice system. I've written at length about the plea bargain conundrum, which stemmed from good intentions and has evolved into a monstrous bullying situation that leads to the innocent being bludgeoned into admitting guilt they do not bear. The situations that rise to the mainstream media regarding use of force, which I hardly need to elaborate on here, they have been so much discussed... I know for a fact those led to demoralized law enforcement leaving the profession entirely. What's left are not the cream of the crop. I don't know if there is a solution for this. I do know that we don't celebrate our heroes, so our children are poorer for growing up without role models.
We have big damn heroes. Let's talk about them, shall we? They might not like the attention, but they model the best of humanity. They are the core of community, showing what humans are capable of towards one another. Civilization rests not on government, but on this willingness to serve one another humbly, lovingly, and selflessly.