WHERE HAVE ALL THE HEROES GONE?

It seems that everyday now, I pick up a newspaper or view a newscast and read about someone from my time that has passed on! Whitey Lockman, Johnny Blanchard, were both New York baseball players from the 50’s and 60’s. Both died within a few days of each other. They filled my summer afternoons and evenings with excitement, during the baseball seasons back then.

It seems that entertainers, news people and musicians are all going. Watching an old black and white movie, I see some of my heroes from yesteryear, people that I took for granted. It got me thinking about those days.

There is a great site called spaldeendreams.blogspot.com that brings me back to Brooklyn during my formative years. Written by an old Brooklynite who lived around the corner from me. Although we never met personally, we met through the Internet. He and I have a birthday, one day apart. We went to the same places in Brooklyn; I probably passed him a million times in the schoolyard and streets. The site stirs up the memories, reminds me where I came from and who I am.

I started to think about Dad. Dad was a hard worker. That’s all Dad knew, how to work hard and feed his kids. He didn’t finish high school, didn’t take us on vacations, just set an example for me; work hard. I look back now, and I see the hero, the mentor, the unrealized wealth I had before me. There were other heroes too, they were my friends father’s, and grandfathers. They had the same work ethic that Dad had. The funny thing is when he taught me to work hard, he taught me to have pride in myself, my job and never to complain.

I went to college, carrying 18 and as much as 21 credits a semester, and had a job, to pay for everything. After school and all summer long. Don’t cry about your situation; just do what is needed to finish the job. Why: because others judged you by your work ethic.

Another thing I remember was that not only men were heroes. Mom was doing a pretty good job of raising five brats. She did it with little money, a lot of love, and urgency to her quest to make her kids respected, and respectful. One thing I NEVER heard either parent use was the f-bomb. Never! Four sisters, not once have they ever used it in front of me. Today, go into any office, and some sweet young thing is using the word like it was perfectly normal to use. How did that happen? How did we allow ourselves to fall so low? Where is the respect for women that once was? Maybe I’m just a prude, but that word is ugly. Every time I hear it out of a woman’s mouth, I cringe, and I think a little less of her.

I very rarely hear the word in my family at all. Oh, I’ve used it, and every time I have, I get disgusted with myself, and picture my Mother or Father, looking at me with disdain or disappointment. TLW, (The Little Woman) has never used it. She is a hero to me. Women who refrain the gutter language, who are not quick to show they are street savvy, remains ladies. Those men and women who do not use the word in mixed company, by example become mentors, and heroes by their unintended example.

Sorry, I had to get this out on you.

Please remember my brother-in-law John and all those that need our prayers.