Who is/was your "hero"?

Pkielwa

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As we grow-up we remember who our heroes were when we were kids. Who was yours? Sometimes as adults we notice heroes in our current lives... Do you also have a present day hero, or one you realized has been your hero all along?

As a kid growing-up in SE Michigan throughout the 70's to parents who were MSU grads, my childhood athletic hero was Earvin "Magic" Johnson. Ever since the day I saw him play in the State Championship, I was a fan. He was an amazing player even back then. From the moment he went to State, I used to try and emulate the way he played, specifically how he passed the ball. I really tried hard to get a bunch of assists in games because of him.

As I got older, I realized my Dad was my TRUE hero. He was an amazing father, he was a fabulous teacher (taught me biology), a GREAT coach (coached me in basketball, golf, and tennis), and a great husband to my Mom. He had five children to support on a $6000 salary back in 1968, so he worked nights and weekends and even summers when he wasn't teaching and coaching. He taught driver's Ed, proctored exams at the local colleges, cut grass, whatever to keep us clothed and putting food on the table. He was the best example of the true definition of "Father" one could ever dream of.
 
My father. What he did to support my family and give us all the best opportunity at everything and anything we wanted to do was remarkable .

He was by no means perfect and would tell you that himself but I've always admired him for everything he did for his children.

RIP Dad...we miss you .


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My dad and all his brothers were mine. I wanted to grow up to be like them.
 
Since it looks like we only get to pick one, mine would be my mom. My dad was great, but I connected with Mom more. Although we only got the extra stuff occasionally, we were never without what was necessary. And looking back, especially at old photos, you could tell that her kids were her world. Everything was for us. She never missed a game, performance or anything. She will be the first person I want to see when I die.
 
My Mom, while my dad was being a ditrbag my mom raised 6 kids on her own, with no education, barely spoke English and busted her rump working 2 and sometimes 3 jobs so we would have a roof over our heads. My love and respect for her goes well beyond anything I can put in words. She is my hero.
 
Bo
Hakan Loob
Joe Sakic
 
My dad.
Great great man.

And a man I never have met, but a Michigan Native Travis Mills
one of only the few Veterans who are a quadruple amputee from combat.
http://www.travismills.org/

In his words he "Had a rough day at work"
 
My dad 100% great man and honored to be his son


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My grandfather. A WWII vet and just an amazing man. Such a great example for my father, me and my son. Gone way too soon. But will never be forgotten.
 
I never met my real dad, so it has to be my mom with my step dad running a close second. My mom worked her a$$ off to make sure I had what I needed and kept me out of trouble.

My stepdad bc in my eyes it takes a real man to come in and raise another's son. I learned so much and I am the man today with his guidance
 
There was a girl I met in 1st grade. She always did her own thing. Never tried to blend in or fit what the "idea" was. She was severely dyslexic. All through out high school she was always told by guidance councilors that she should think about jobs out of high school because she could never get into college. She got into college and got a degree. She is now the director of social services at a medical rehab facility.

It's a good thing I asked her out 13 years ago. I'm lucky to have her in my life. She is my hero.
 
Honestly, I can't pick one. My parents and grandparents all had, and continue to have, a profound influence on who I am and who I want to be.
 
Who is/was your "hero"?

Who is/was your "hero"?

Michael Jordan and my Mom. Then Lincoln, Roosevelt and my Dad with some tint of Atticus Finch and my cross country coach.
 
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don't have one. there are people I respect, people who do things much better than I and from whom I have much to learn. but there's nobody who inspires me or motivates me.


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My mum. I was homeschooled starting about in 4th grade for me (7th for my older brother, and 2nd for my sister). A brief stint as a lunch lady taught my mom that middle school (6th, 7th, and 8th grades) was the worst possible combination of ages possible, so she quit various part time jobs and took on the task of teaching 3 children (a couple of years later a fourth, as my parents would adopt a child, my second sister, from Russia). My mother probably probably didn't grasp how much she was taking on, but somehow she made it work, from keeping my older brother independent but in line to teaching my adopted sister English, which seems second nature only to someone who grows up learning it, to showing all of us the true nature of winning with tenacity what you might not win with talent or skill, my mom made from four smart children four outstanding citizens, with little more than her wits, charisma, and drive. My mother taught me more about faith, endurance, patience, and integrity than can be learned from a hundred thousand classrooms. She spent more time in a minivan shuttling us around than any woman deserves, but from it and her dogged dominance of the radio I heard more motown and doowop than few from my generation. What my mom taught me without words is worth more than an Ivy League education, a dozen times over.

Today three of us are making careers from the military, and a fourth balances the books of a decent-sized truck-stop franchise without so much as a high school diploma from any of us when we got started.
 
My mother for sure.
 
My mom, single parent, and until only recently I never realized just how much of a struggle it was for her to keep us afloat, yet I never wanted for anything growing up. She taught me how to be a parent while my dad taught me how not to be a parent. I'm a mommas boy and damn proud of it.
 
This one may sound goofy to some, but for me it's my sister. And I've never met her.

Back in early 1986 my parents were expecting their first child, a girl they were naming Marie. 20 weeks into the pregnancy, my mom miscarried. 10 weeks after the miscarriage, my parents find out they're expecting another child, me. If my parents never had the miscarriage, I wouldn't be here.

I talk to her a lot, update her on how things are going in my life and how I have my own little family and how amazing of an aunt she would be.

I know some may hate this saying, but I'm not one of those. Everything in life happens for a reason
 
My hero is definitely my Dad. He is the hardest working person I know and also one of the smartest. He has been working in the manufacturing industry since he was 16 years old. I am proud to say that this year he was able to officially retire at the young age of 51 after selling his business. He always told his kids to be a leader and nor a follower and that is something I try and live my life by at all times. Now he said he is finally able to focus on his golf game which I am thrilled about. Thanks for taking time to read this guy's!
 
My mom,so strong and never gives up.

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My hero was/is George Mallory who died while attempting to be the first man to summit Everest. Something about his story always stuck with me even before I did rock climbing myself. I name my second son Joshua Mallory and my first son Jeremy Andrew after his climbing partner Andrew Irvine who also perished on the summit attempt. Some climbers have reported that the spirit of Irvine is still on Everest and encouraged them to continue on and kept them company when they were in distress. Obviously you can't completely trust their recollections while in the death zone but it's a nice thought.
 
This one may sound goofy to some, but for me it's my sister. And I've never met her.

Back in early 1986 my parents were expecting their first child, a girl they were naming Marie. 20 weeks into the pregnancy, my mom miscarried. 10 weeks after the miscarriage, my parents find out they're expecting another child, me. If my parents never had the miscarriage, I wouldn't be here.

I talk to her a lot, update her on how things are going in my life and how I have my own little family and how amazing of an aunt she would be.

I know some may hate this saying, but I'm not one of those. Everything in life happens for a reason
After my brother (the oldest in the family), my parents had two babies who died days-old. I asked if they would have had my sister and me had they both lived, and she said no, they would have stopped trying for kids with three. So although it hurt my parents, my sister and I would never have happened had they not died.
 
After my brother (the oldest in the family), my parents had two babies who died days-old. I asked if they would have had my sister and me had they both lived, and she said no, they would have stopped trying for kids with three. So although it hurt my parents, my sister and I would never have happened had they not died.
To PhillyV as well-
Same story here. Kimberly was born in 1964. She was the 4th child. She passed away after only 24 hours and my Dad had her buried secretly so my Mom would be able to recover from the loss. It wasn't until about 10-15 years ago did my Dad take my Mom to Kimberly's grave for the first time. Both my parents have said had Kimberly lived, neither my sister Kiersten nor I would have been born. My parents actually bought the plots next to Kimberly so they can be buried next to their little girl.
 
My Dad. He is in the final stages of congestive heart failure. I've been staying over this weekend. He is 84 and he and my Mom's 60th anniversary is on Wednesday. Not sure he will make it until then.

My Dad grew up dirt poor in Canada with 5 older sisters and 1 younger brother. His parents rented dairy farms and worked them. My Dad learned the value of hard work very early. Being the oldest boy he was given the opportunity to go to college if he wanted. No, he went to work as an apprentice plasterer for an uncle for $0.45/hr (if I correctly recall the rate). At 19 he left Canada and came to San Diego in a pickup truck with nothing but his tools and work clothes. He had a promise of a job but when he got here his great uncle had gone belly up. His great uncle got him a job with another contractor and he quickly established himself by his work ethic and the quality of his work. Eventually he started his own company with $1,600.00. He had two employees and my Mom did the bookkeeping. After a day on the job he would then go do his estimating. He eventually built to be one the biggest contractors in town and his name still is known for his reputation for quality and honesty.

It is very hard to see him right now. He is no longer the guy who was always working (never and office guy, he was a field worker for his entire career). He can't get out of bed without help, is on oxygen pretty much all day, and can't do much but sleep. We thought we would lose him on Thursday but he is still hanging on. Another contractor who did his scaffolding has been by a bunch and told me how hard it is to see him like this. He isn't in pain, just weak. He was not a smoker, fat, was always active (mainly work was his hobby) and never showed a sign of weakness until he was 75 and felt weak after clearing some brush around his property (and having a guy of 35 tell him he'd never been outworked by a guy double his age before). Within 4 days he had a quadruple bypass but the damage to his heart left it working about under 40%. He was cleaning the gutters of his barn about 4 years ago, on a ladder and fell about 8 feet breaking his hip. He really started to deteriorate after that.

He taught me how to run a business, how to treat your customers and, more importantly, how to be a man. He also got me and my brother into golfing even though he rarely played himself. I do hope he makes it to Wednesday but then again seeing him like this, seeing age and infirmity rob you of your dignity I hope that his last days are peaceful and he goes without suffering.
 
My Dad. He is in the final stages of congestive heart failure. I've been staying over this weekend. He is 84 and he and my Mom's 60th anniversary is on Wednesday. Not sure he will make it until then.

My Dad grew up dirt poor in Canada with 5 older sisters and 1 younger brother. His parents rented dairy farms and worked them. My Dad learned the value of hard work very early. Being the oldest boy he was given the opportunity to go to college if he wanted. No, he went to work as an apprentice plasterer for an uncle for $0.45/hr (if I correctly recall the rate). At 19 he left Canada and came to San Diego in a pickup truck with nothing but his tools and work clothes. He had a promise of a job but when he got here his great uncle had gone belly up. His great uncle got him a job with another contractor and he quickly established himself by his work ethic and the quality of his work. Eventually he started his own company with $1,600.00. He had two employees and my Mom did the bookkeeping. After a day on the job he would then go do his estimating. He eventually built to be one the biggest contractors in town and his name still is known for his reputation for quality and honesty.

It is very hard to see him right now. He is no longer the guy who was always working (never and office guy, he was a field worker for his entire career). He can't get out of bed without help, is on oxygen pretty much all day, and can't do much but sleep. We thought we would lose him on Thursday but he is still hanging on. Another contractor who did his scaffolding has been by a bunch and told me how hard it is to see him like this. He isn't in pain, just weak. He was not a smoker, fat, was always active (mainly work was his hobby) and never showed a sign of weakness until he was 75 and felt weak after clearing some brush around his property (and having a guy of 35 tell him he'd never been outworked by a guy double his age before). Within 4 days he had a quadruple bypass but the damage to his heart left it working about under 40%. He was cleaning the gutters of his barn about 4 years ago, on a ladder and fell about 8 feet breaking his hip. He really started to deteriorate after that.

He taught me how to run a business, how to treat your customers and, more importantly, how to be a man. He also got me and my brother into golfing even though he rarely played himself. I do hope he makes it to Wednesday but then again seeing him like this, seeing age and infirmity rob you of your dignity I hope that his last days are peaceful and he goes without suffering.
Not sure if you're religious, but God bless you and your family.
 
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