HEROES

5/2/20    Isle Verde

Michael Easterling

When I was a kid I believed my dad was a superhero.

When I would cry in the night he would come and comfort me.

He had arms like Arnold Schwarzenegger, 

he brought me Southern Made donuts and 

he could whistle through his teeth.

My mom’s whistle was a soft warble 

that could be heard for a mile.

She covered for us with Dad and

always kept my favorites,

pinto beans and stewed apricots in the fridge.

I still dream about her cakes, pies, ice box cookies and fried chicken.

Of course other heroes came along like The Babe, Mildred Burke, Doak Walker, Roy Rogers and Tarzan (Johnny Weissmuller).

Johnny impressed me so much that 

Dad bought me all the Tarzan  books.

.

Then in my teens, something strange happened: 

Jesus became my hero.

I heard how he lived and taught and died,

how courageous he was and how 

he stood up for the weak and the poor.

He seemed to me like the greatest hero of all.

I don’t believe exactly the same about him anymore but 

I still think of him as my spiritual North Star.

Then  other great heroes came along in my life:

spiritual giants like Buddha, Lao Tzu, Mary and Teresa of Avila;

coaches like John Rowland and Robert Baptista;

spiritual leaders like Walden Howard;

biblical writers like David, Paul and Peter;

poets like Poe and Emily Dickinson, Carl Sandburg, Rumi, Khalil Gibran and Maya Angelou;  

composers like Schubert, Tchaikovsky and Beethoven;  

folksingers like Bob Dylan, Joanie Mitchell and James Taylor;  priests like St . Francis, Martin Luther, Daniel Berrigan,  John O’ Donohue;

authors like Earnest Hemingway, Mark Twain, J.R.R.Tolkien and John Steinbeck;

political leaders like  Lincoln, Dag Hammarskjold, FDR and Churchill;

revolutionaries like M.L.King Jr., Nelson  Mandela and the Irish rebels; 

military leaders like Douglas M’cArthur and Ralph Puckett Jr.; 

therapists like Erick Fromm and F. Scott Peck Jr.;

and the list goes on and on and on.

And then there was September 11, 2001. 

Those First Responders 

had no idea what was ahead for them.

Walking, running and driving into smoke with no visibility;

running up stairways as building workers were running down and out;

watching fellow responders die 

in the fire, smoke and falling debris;

breathing in the poisonous fumes and

looking for survivors in the rubble and tangled steel.

New York’s Finest, New York’s Bravest, 

New York’s Most Courageous.

Our fellow New Yorkers.

Our heroes forever.

Lastly, those damn doctors make way too much money.

They don’t go to school anymore than the rest of us. 

At our appointments they keep us waiting because they book too many of us, needing $ to pay for their kid’s schools 

and their trips and toys.

PA’s and nurses do most of their work,

but now that COVID 19 is here they are looking different.

They are looking like healers. 

Making less pay. Risking their lives  

as they treat others. Golden.

The PA’s and nurses are doing what they always did,

even more so, working double shifts over and over.

A large number of all of them are catching the virus.

Many are dying.

Every day as they walk to and from work

wearing masks and surgicals,

New Yorkers from porches and windows 

sing to them and applaud them.

It’s because they know something.

The know they are looking at real Heroes.  

Heroes all around us 

day after day

year after year

from cradle to grave.