My father-in-law is nearing 93 and is the best-read person I know! He sends us articles every week. His latest offerings ranged from commentary on web-based dating services to a Rheta Grimsley Johnson article on a trip to New Orleans. Ms. Grimsley Johnson is one of his favorite writers, and this article focused on her visit to a museum featuring Mississippi (her proud home) artists. Among the displays was a photograph of one of her heroines, Blanche Aldrich. Now, I’ve visited Miss Blanche several times as she is the legendary matriarch of the tiny Mississippi town of Michigan City where my wife’s family attended church back in the 50’s and early 60’s. Blanche is instantly entertaining with her incredible energy, humor, and remarkable experiences (I include links to a photo of Blanche, the article I reference, and another article by RGJ with further Blanche details). I can say with sincerity she is one of the very few people I’ve met who seemed larger than life, or maybe just filled the space they occupied so completely. I’m a talker/story teller, but I found myself quiet more than usual. In short, she is a treat.
As I read the article to my wife over breakfast this morning, I wondered what makes someone a hero/heroine. Rheta Grimsley Johnson would not use such a term loosely. I admit Blanche is one of my heroines. She inspired us to teach overseas for the Army, a job that gave our 30+year teaching careers even more meaning. I know with Blanche I saw opportunities for us I had never really considered.
Maybe when we see acts of great courage like firefighters risking their lives to save someone, soldiers in daily life and death situations, or bystanders lifting a burning car to save a stranger, we see the best of ourselves, the chance we all have to step beyond more mundane, daily challenges. Blanche probably has never saved a life, but I wonder how many people she has inspired to live more meaningful lives. Maybe heroes/heroines are just people who show us what is possible.