Sully is My Hero

If you asked my son who is hero is, he probably would say Carmelo Anthony. Not exactly George Washington or Thomas Jefferson, but then again neither of those guys could dunk a basketball or wore a cool uniform. And George’s wig is no match for ‘Melo’s cornrows.

Anyway, the problem here is on a bigger scale than an eight-year-old’s view of the heroism. When I was his age, I probably would have answered Mickey Mantle or Willie Mays. Same narrow focus. Why are these guys heroes? Because they can hit and catch a baseball like few others? That’s a prerequisite for being a hero?

Audie Murphy, the movie star, came to the Silver Screen because he first distinguished himself in battle in World War II. Now that’s heroic. But today, sadly, the men and women who serve their country on foreign soil, especially those who give their lives, are rarely considered heroes. Pat Tillman, the NFL player who gave up a lucrative career on the gridiron to serve and then ended up losing his life (shamefully, to friendly fire), now he should be considered a hero.

Heroes should be bigger than life. Despite Murphy’s puny status, he was—even if not always on the big screen. John Wayne and Harrison Ford have enjoyed distinguished careers portraying heroes.

Yet I still struggle to answer the question “Who is your hero?” I want to say John F. Kennedy. Oh, what could have been, what could have happened. Now we’ve all read and heard plenty about the flawed side of this great man. I’ve read some things about Mantle and Mays that lowered my esteem too. In fact, I met the Say Hey Kid once at a sports convention and he was outright nasty. (Yet he didn’t win the top honor that day; another of my childhood heroes, Cardinals pitcher Bob Gibson, did. I asked Gibby for an autograph and he pushed my ball-in-hand away like he used to brush away batters from the inside of the plate.)

Today, my heroes are more likely to reside in the boardroom than ballpark. Bill Gates and Warren Buffett are amazing. And the three Steves: Spielberg, Wozniak and Jobs deserve much consideration.

Yet nobody fascinated me in the ‘90s more than Michael Jordan. Despite his superhuman athletic abilities, it was his off-the-charts will to win that really impressed me. I wish I had that relentless drive; heck, I even threw a game or two of Candyland when Ethan was a pre-schooler just to avoid a tantrum. Mike wouldn’t do that.

But for today, I give my vote to Chesley B. “Sully” Sullenberger III, the miraculous pilot of US Air Flight 1549. Here was a man who has trained his entire professional life to be the best pilot he could be and on that fateful day—Jan. 15, 2009—when he was forced to figuratively step up to the plate and apply all his knowledge and skill under life-harrowing circumstances, he came through in brilliance. Hitting that game-winning home run characterizes some people as heroes, but here is a man who saved the lives of his entire flight, 155 people. We’ve seen since that this is not always the case.

And with all the subsequent adulation and publicity that came his way, he remained humbled, measured and completely under control—all the qualities that make him an exceptional pilot and human being. He actually seemed a little uncomfortable in the spotlight, which I really appreciated. I don’t think he’s going to move to Hollywood or start partying with Paris.

What he did that cold day in Manhattan was truly heroic. The lives he touched with his skill and bravery go far beyond the passengers and crew onboard that day. We should hope that the pilots we fly with are somewhere near as competent and composed as my hero Sully.