It’s amazing to me how many heroic things happen right around me everyday. Times when just regular people step up and go beyond what is expected. They do so with no thought of acknowledgement, with no desire for fame or fortune, just because they are good people who find themselves in situations that call for more. It’s a good thing because they hardly ever get a hero’s welcome, and sometimes get the opposite. Two recent cases come to mind, although there are many more. It is funny, however that many of the events that come to my mind involve women being the heroes. Maybe that’s just me and how my brain recalls things. For example I know of two of my neighbor’s who have been heroes, just on my block. One chased a robber down the street in her bare feet in the Fall, the second drove around and reunited a lost child with his family. Another neighbor was saved by a hero (male) who broke her car window and started CPR when her heart had stopped. She’s fine now, and I see her almost everyday.
Of the two most recent, the first occurred last week when a neighbor, Margy Meath, was in a park and stepped into the middle of a domestic violence situation and ended it. She did not know the couple, but stepped in and stepped up, so the woman could safely leave the situation. That was heroic.
The second occurred two days ago, when a man shooting heroin on a city street dropped down dead or dying. A group of city residents immediately took action. With one of them performing CPR until the emergency vehicles arrived and gave him 2 doses of Narcan and brought him back to life. The difference here is that a neighbor caught the CPR in a picture. That woman (I believe it was a woman) may have just come out of her house to administer the CPR. She is a hero. The people helping are also saviors.
I often think as I walk or bike my city that the person I pass or talk to, maybe the person who may save my life someday. You may look at a group like this and walk away. I want to give them the key to the city.

© words by Dan DeMarle 2018 – photo by Judy Patches Camp-Baker 2018