Last year I introduced you to my hero, June Oulund.  Today I’d like to introduce you to two more of my heroes.

We spent the weekend with my college roommate Gerry Andersen and his wife Julie.  Though we haven’t seen each other for almost twenty years, it’s like our relationship was on pause and we took up the conversation instantly.

Where Have They Been?

Gerry and Julie live in a small village in the mountains of Mexico with people who have never had their language in written form.

It’s been said, “Heroes are made not born.”  I agree, but sometimes they are borne out of great adversity.  When great tragedy occurs some people exceed the achievements of the common person, and heroes arise from the shadow of horror.

While Adolf Hitler’s policies promoted the genocide of Jews, German businessman Oskar Schindler is credited with saving more than a thousand Jews during the Holocaust by convincing the Nazis that they were essential workers supporting the war effort.

Generations before another leader feared the power of Jews living in his community.

A search of google took 0.35 seconds to come up with 34 results, some of which have nothing to do with June.

How could my hero be so anonymous?

Sometimes heroes are like that. Living their lives without the publicity.

Heroes Are Usually Uncommonly Common People

Growing up I wanted to be a hero, to be special, to feel special, to do something special. I read comic books and admired public figures.

It’s funny, and sad, that it took me years until I realized that when I was seven years old, while sitting in a rickety wooden chair in a children’s program called Whirlybirds, that I sat in the presence of a genuine American treasure!