Letter From America: An American Hero
Some mornings Tom is on his rounds for over an hour, carrying out his self-appointed task cheerfully and without complaint. Read Ronnie Bray's absorbing column which reveals the surprising details of Tom's heroic duties.
Americans misuse the word ‘hero,’ and I am about to abuse it, too. In Standard English, ‘hero’ means someone who has performed an outstanding act of bravery or courage under extreme conditions, usually at the risk of their own life. Americans apply it to any member of the armed forces serving in an active theatre or standing by to serve. For that reason, ‘hero’ has lost its currency without a replacement being put in its place.
I don’t know whether Tom has ever served in the armed forces. In fact, I know very little about him except that he is married to a wife who holds down two jobs, has been unemployed for a year, has two daughters, and three dogs.
The earliest I have taken Frankie and Belle to the park is 5.25 am, and I was not the first there! It was well before dawn but the many floodlights make it almost as bright as day. My normal arrival time is between 6.30 am and 7 am.
At this time of year, that means that I get to see the first rosy blush over the Superstition Mountains burst into a glorious sunrise in a usually cloudless sky. It also means that my dogs join about twenty regulars, some of whom are now their good friends.
Belle likes to play and be a sociable girl, but all Frankie does is herd, herd, herd. We owners sit on iron benches or in plastic lawn chairs and talk about dogs.
Among the most popular breeds regularly in the park there are Great Danes, a Newfoundland puppy, a pair of Dobermans, several Australian Collies, Maltese Terriers, Akidas, Alaskan Huskies, Malamutes, Wolf dogs, Corgies, Labradors, Irish Setters, Irish Wolfhounds, Spaniels, Basset Hounds, St Bernard’s, Shelties, Rough Collies, Alsatians, my Border Collies, and a variety of good old Mutts of uncertain parentage.
While the owners are sitting around talking dog, the dogs are running loose and having a whale of a time. Naturally they exercise their innards and although most owners watch for this and go scoop up these little doggie gifts, sometimes dogs perform out of sight of their owners or else wait for them to turn their backs.
I meet Tom most mornings when we are letting our dogs run free in Mesa’s Bark Park, a fenced three-acre grassed lot especially for dogs. The dogs run off leash and think they are in doggie heaven. Tom is a gentleman, but he is also a hero, and I will tell you why.
That unintentional neglect leads to little piles of "Don’t step in that!" around the park. And that is where Tom rises to his own brand of heroism. He sets out with the scoop and rake and cleans the park of these piles of detritus.
Some mornings Tom is on his rounds for over an hour. But he carries out his self-appointed task cheerfully and without complaint, and that makes him a hero in my eyes.
I was so impressed with Tom’s example that when I visited a different park, I took up the scoop and rake and cleansed it of all the smelly stuff, dedicating my labour to Tom, my American Hero!
© 2004 Ronnie Bray
All Rights Reserved
