``John McCain crashed in Vietnam,'' Bok said. ``His arms were broken,
his
leg mangled. He was a prisoner for years. When he came out, he was
asked,
How did it feel when you heard Americans were protesting the war? He
said,
I thought that's what we were fighting for -- the right to protest.''
A hero who understands the real enemy deserves heroic accolades.
McCain didn't make the magazine's listing of the top 25 heroes of
America
as selected by Life's editors nor was he selected by readers who were
polled
separately.
If I were creating a journalist's list of top heroes, his wise and
heroic
words would get him on my list.
Life's
list of top 25 heroes in America actually lists 31 names because seven
astronauts
-- the Mercury Seven -- make the list in 23rd place; in fact, the four
surviving
members of that team are the only living persons on the editors' list.
In addition to the editors' list, the magazine polled Americans for
their
choices. The two top choices of the editors -- Abraham Lincoln and
Martin
Luther King, Jr. -- also were the two top choices of those polled.
Some fascinating commentary accompanied the selection of Lincoln: ``He
staged
national repentance days. Another leader would not do that, or would
demoralize
his side if he did. And yet, somehow, Lincoln had the gift of
inspiring,
while demanding a quite fierce moral scrutiny.''
Those
polled put Mother Teresa in third place and former general and Chairman
of the Joint Chiefs Colin Powell in seventh place. Neither of those two
living heroes made the editors' top 25.
The public voters also put Ronald Reagan, Bill Clinton, Michael Jordan
and
Louis Farrakhan on their list, none of whom made the editors'
selections.
On the other hand, the editors selected many lesser heralded that the
public
overlooked: Tecumseh, the Shawnee chief whose vision of a Native
American
nation was destroyed by conquering supremacists (fifth); Margaret
Sanger,
"The Woman Rebel" and birth-control advocate (eighth); Jacob Riis,
Danish immigrant, muckraking photojournalist, and reformer of New York
City's
slums in the late 19th century (21st); and Arthur Ashe, the tennis
champion
who became a spokesperson for the horror of AIDS (24th).
This commendable issue of the magazine, which has only one sponsor with
tasteful and subdued ads throughout its 90 pages, seems at first glance
to be an upbeat issue, one that would satisfy the appeals of those who
are
consistently calling for ``more good news.''
On
closer examination, however, one discovers that heroism almost always
arises
from hardship, often from horror, and that those we deem our heroes
often
bear our most sinister assaults.
The two top choices -- President Lincoln and the Rev. King -- we must
never
forget, were cut down by bullets from guns wielded by killers who
thought
them less than heroic. (As was the readers' sixth choice, John F.
Kennedy.)
One of the editors' top 25 was crippled by polio (Franklin Delano
Roosevelt);
another was blind from birth (Helen Keller); a third gallantly
surrendered
with dignity in a war that split the nation (Robert E. Lee); a fourth
raised
the world's consciousness regarding the harsh labor that brings iceberg
lettuce to our dinner tables (Cesar Chavez); another died from a
devastating
disease (Ashe); and the last on the list made the monumental lonely and
horrific decision to blast Hiroshima and Nagasaki into oblivion
(Truman).
Not much good news in that listing, is there? Yet, they are heroes.
The magazine rouses our hearts with stories of ``Heroes of the
Moment,''
who are often unheralded workers of small miracles in small places.
More
often than not, tragedy is buried in the stories.
Sarah
and Jim Brady became quiet but consistent voices for gun control after
part
of Jim's brain was blasted away when John Hinckley attempted to
assassinate
then-President Reagan.
Mrs. Brady has been called a liar and a Nazi by hecklers at her public
appearances.
A tee-shirt has been advertised that reads: ``Hinckley shot the wrong
Brady.''
There is an America that hates its heroes.
One of the ``Heroes of the Moment'' is Frances Davis, a Brooklyn mother
who has waged an all-out crusade against inner-city violence.
She comes to crusading out of horror. In the six years between 1987 and
1993, three of her sons were murdered in separate incidents on the
streets
of Bedford-Stuyvesant.
Even the ugliness of journalism is underscored in the magazine's
profiles
of ``Heroes of the Moment.''
Richard
Jewell, the 34-year-old security guard who was for months suspected of
bombing
Centennial Park in Atlanta during the Summer Olympics before the FBI
finally
cleared him, says of his experience: ``My life disintegrated in the
snap
of a finger, the exhale of a breath.''
Citing his introduction by television host Larry King, Jewell says he
will
go down in history known as ``the former suspect.''
Life magazine points out that Jewell did what heroes do: He found a
bomb,
notified authorities, and helped clear the endangered area -- all
heroic
actions. ``And one more thing. He paid for it.''
Life magazine's selection of America's heroes is a celebration of
sorts,
but it is a sobering celebration when we realize that we make our
heroes
pay dearly for being what we are not.
Return to Pacific Sunday Meanderings | Return to Home | Site Contents |
Allan R. Andrews can be reached at allan.andrews@reporters.net