In Remembrance of an Ordinary Hero

This is something I wrote a few years ago, but as the 13th anniversary of this date approaches, I felt like remembering again.

*****

My cousin, Warren, wasn’t a pro ball player. He wasn’t a rock star or an actor. He wasn’t a political leader or the discoverer of quantum physics. He wasn’t perfect. He wasn’t a saint. But he was a hero.

Since September 11, 2001, police and firefighters have once again resumed their rightful place in the minds of Americans as role models worthy of admiration and emulation. They didn’t become heroes on 9/11. Those souls who commit their lives to the service and protection of others – especially at great personal risk – have always been heroes. It’s just that somewhere along the way we lost our focus of what is truly important and allowed ourselves to believe that fame, fortune and attitude were to be admired above all else. It took an attack to our basic way of life to cause us to open our eyes and reprioritize.

Although Warren was a firefighter, he was not at the World Trade Center on 9/11. He had been killed 8 years before in the line of duty. Our family could not overlook the irony of the fact that he was not even supposed to be at that fire. He heard the call on his radio and immediately raced to the site to see if he could be of assistance. Understandably we were hurt and angry, but we weren’t surprised. Warren died a hero’s death, helping to rescue people from a burning building, but more importantly, he lived a hero’s life.

Warren was not only a hero in the classic sense of having given his life to save another, he was a father, a husband, a friend, a charmer, a philosopher, a man of principles and ideas. He was a dedicated public servant. He was a believer in making the world a better place. Even if you didn’t agree with him on some subject, you still liked him. It was difficult not to.

He wasn’t obsessed with making a lot of money. He didn’t need to drive an expensive car or wear designer suits. If he wasn’t on duty, he never missed being with his family for holidays and celebrations. He worked tirelessly to recruit more minorities into the fire department – serving as a role model and mentor for untold numbers of local students looking for positive options in their lives. He had goals, dreams and aspirations – as we all should – but he always remained grounded.

This past Saturday, February 22, 2003, I had the honor and privilege of attending the 10^th anniversary memorial for Warren. It is common in our culture to avoid speaking ill of the dead – thereby making people who were often viewed as brutish and nasty in their lives sound nearly saint-like in their eulogies. Warren was a singular exception to this. There was not one word uttered during the ceremony that caused me to shake my head and wonder “who on earth are they talking about?” Every praise recalled to mind the warm, wonderful man I knew, and sadly, will never know again.

The best and most lasting tribute my family, and every American, can give to Warren and all those “ordinary” heroes just like him is to live our lives they way they would. The simple pleasures in life really are the best…and many of them are fleeting. Don’t just live your life. ENJOY it. The next time you have to make a choice between working late or going home to see your children, go home. The next time a stranger asks you for a quarter, give it to him. The next time you pass a flower stall, stop and smell the roses. Better yet, bring a bunch home. For yourself. For your family. In remembrance and celebration of all the ordinary heroes.