“The real hero is the man who fights even though he is scared…a real man will never let his fear of death overpower his honor, his sense of duty to his country and his innate manhood.”
I didn’t write that, but I could have. That was spoken by General George S. Patton on the eve of the Normandy invasion. That’s the way I saw my father.
It kind of funny the way a child thinks and believes.
My heroes have always been a different kind of hero.
Sure I had the usual kind growing up. I loved Johnny Bench. I’m still a Reds fan to this day. There was no better quarterback than Roger Staubach. Not only one of the great NFL quarterbacks of all time, but one of the best human beings of all time. Who was a true example of a Christian gentleman.
I have to say, though, that my real heroes were men in my family. I would like to say just little about some of them.
Uncle Gilbert, a police officer. I wanted to be a cop myself at one time. Until he told me he would kick my butt if I did join the police force. I can still remember things that I would hear. Like the time there was a prison riot and he had to go. At least I think that’s correct. You never know about a kid’s memories. I would imagine him standing behind his door with a shotgun ready to shoot or with a riot shield running into a mass of people.
His son and my cousin, Greg. I always looked up too. I wanted to be the athlete that he was, but couldn’t be. Not much use for a 135 lb defensive back that runs a 4.9 40. Even at Northwest Classen. I always thought it would be cool to be like him. He always made his goofy younger cousin feel like he was just one of the guys.
There was my uncle Jim Moseley. I thought was a great athlete. I guess I’ve always wanted to be an athlete, I just wasn’t able. He also became a cop.
I also looked up to my uncle Jimmy Rogers. He was the coolest guy I ever knew. Rode a bike and had a van. I still remember getting in his van as a kid. We won’t give the details of that adventure. I’ll just leave it to your imagination. He was definitely a rebel. I know our parents were scared to death we would want to be like him. He left this world way too early. I remember being told “your Uncle Jimmy died”. I just knew it was Uncle Jim Moseley because he was a cop at the time.
Uncle Fred, who probably doesn’t realize this, but he was one of the reasons I chose to go into the service in the first place. He is the main reason I started looking at the Air Force when I decided to go. He is a man who is always there when you need him.
Uncle Jack. To me he was a real war hero. I can still see in my mind the day he left at the airport. I assume, looking back at it, that he was leaving for Vietnam. I can still remember him in his uniform, strips on his sleeve. Everyone was hugging and crying. I have never sat down and talked to him about it, but just the little I do know, I know he is a real war hero. Purple Hearts, Bronze Star and all. He also was a great witness for Christ.
My Grandpas I looked up to. Grandpa Moseley could be a bit hard sometimes, but he had a heart of gold. He was an athlete growing up. The thing that always stuck in my mind was he always believed in doing the RIGHT thing. No matter the cost. My dad's dad, I believed, was the wisest man on the planet. He knew more about the bible than anyone. A true spiritual leader, especially to us growing up. For us grandkids, we loved and respected him totally.
There is my older brother Rowdy. To me, he did everything right. I couldn’t think of a single person who didn’t like him. I used to say he was 40 when he was 18. He just was a mature guy who believed in doing what’s right and he still does. He was and IS one of the most dependable people I know. He is always there when you need him. As a kid all of his friends used to try and make fun of me by calling me “Little Pickle”. They didn’t know I was proud of that.
The biggest hero of them all, however, well that was my dad. He wanted to be a police officer, but he was too short to pass. That never did make sense to me, because I thought he was “10 feet tall and bulletproof”. Sometimes I think he thought he really was too.
I never felt the need to get into the “my dad is tougher than your dad” fight. What was the use? Everyone knew my dad was the toughest. Heck every time family got together he had to show all the kids his muscles. Everyone loved him.
I remember looking at the picture grandpa had in his office of him in his Uniform. He was a paratrooper. I mean he used to jump out of perfectly good airplanes. He was part of the 82nd airborne. What could be cooler than that? We would go to the fair and couldn’t walk ten feet before someone would yell “Hey Red”, “Uncle Sam” or just Bob. I thought he knew everyone on planet earth. There was joke about him and the pope. I just know it was originally written about him. He was walking with the pope in a mass of people when everyone started looking around asking “who’s the guy in the goofy hat with Bobby”.
He was a man with an Iron stomach. He would eat anything. One of things he would do is to get up at 2 or 3am and drink a cup of Salsa. I love Salsa, but not that much.
To me he was John Wayne. Maybe that was because the only thing he ever watched was westerns. Bonanza, Gun Smoke, Shadow Riders, the Sackett’s, you know those kind of shows.
It’s funny what a young man thinks and believes.
As you get older, you lose that childlike innocence and start to see things a bit differently. You realize that we are all failed human beings. You start to see your hero as a man. You start to understand what Christ meant in Luke chapter 18 verse 19 “Why do you call me good?” “No one is good except God alone”. You discover that the 10 commands are impossible to live up too. Try it. Have you ever told a lie? Have you ever stolen anything, even if it’s small like a paperclip? Have you ever used God’s name, the God who gave you life, as a cuss word? I wouldn’t even use a friend’s name as a cuss word, why would I think so little of God to use His name.
I remember the day I realized I needed Christ. Dad was taking me fishing. We had stopped at the bait store. I waited in the truck. I did something to myself and said…well let’s just say I took the Lords name in vain. I knew right then, I had broken God’s law and I would receive His punishment. I told dad that night, it was the night before church in the morning, that I wanted to be saved. The next morning during the alter call dad whispered to me “you ready?” I took off down the isle with him in tow. I prayed to receive Christ right then and there.
See, that’s the thing about my family. They, the men and women in my family, raised their children to know who Christ was. I thank God that he put me in THIS family. He gave me the greatest opportunity to find him. I know God had a purpose for putting me with them. I thank Him for that all the time. God allowed me to go through a lot this past 3 or 4 years. I am not the same man as I was even two years ago. It would have been a lot harder without them.
It’s funny what a man thinks and believes.
You see I’ve come full circle now. My heroes are my heroes again. Because they allowed God to work through them. The men and women of this family are truly my heroes. They did follow Christ. They did raise their children with God.
My greatest hero? Well that would be my dad. I lost my hero. He left this world to be with the Lord on February 24 of 2010. He was a man who has definitely left an imprint in this world. A legacy that will continue for as long as there are people on this world. He has gone on to be with the Lord forever and ever. He will always be my hero no matter what. He once again is “10 feet tall and bulletproof”.
I’m going to miss you dad. Until that day when we are together again.
