The Supermen among us

This Saturday afternoon I saw a firetruck back into its station. Traveling south on Ashland, Engine 30 briefly sounded its siren to stop traffic and then did a big S-move, positioning itself at a 90-degree angle to the street. The driver then hurled the engine, starting from a standstill, backwards across the street and through the doorway at over 20 miles per hour. I had two simultaneous thoughts: "Wow, I can't believe he did that!" and "That was pretty impressive." I guess I was awestruck. I'm not saying I was 15-point-comeback-against-Arizona awestruck, but I think that's the right word to describe those two quotes.

I don't know why the fireman driving the engine sped into the station. Maybe he wanted to clear the street as quickly as possible to allow traffic to continue moving. Maybe he had backed in the engine so many times that speed wasn't a concern. And maybe it just doesn't faze him at all because driving a truck in reverse pales in comparison to racing into a burning building.

I'm not saying firemen are my heroes. When I was little, my heroes consisted of astronauts, football players, and anyone that carried a lightsaber. And, of course, my dad. [Who occasionally carried a lightsaber.] But firemen are among the heroes of our society as a whole, and I certainly recognize and admire them for what they do. And when I think of heroes, I imagine that everything they do is extraordinary, even the most basic aspects of life. When a football player reads a book to kids, he does the evil wizard's voice perfectly. And when a fireman backs his car into the garage, he does it at break-neck speed.

It helps us believe. We rarely get to see a fireman do what makes him so special. So when we get the chance to see him do something completely ordinary, it bolsters our faith to see it done in an extraordinary way. Knowing that a potential hero can do what we probably couldn't do when it comes to ordinary things gives us hope that he can do what we almost certainly couldn't do when it comes to matters of life and death.

I'm glad I got to see what I did on Saturday. The older I get, the less I tend to rely on others. It feels good to be reminded that there are people in the world that can do the things I can't do, and that they're out there waiting to help me if I need it.