WHAT’S CAUSING ALL THIS? | Here are some of my heroes; who are yours?

The late Stanley Dearman (above), former editor and publisher of The Neshoba Democrat, a newspaper in Philadelphia, Mississippi.

Been thinking about something this past weekend, and insert the “well, that’s dangerous” joke *here*, and I suppose it is.

Here it comes. You ready?

What is a hero to you?

I thought about that the last few days, so I did what every red-blooded American does in 2024. I Googled it.

And here’s what Google.com had to say. Google defined hero this way: A person who is admired or idealized for courage, outstanding achievements, or noble qualities.

Just for the sake of being thorough, I went a bit farther. Wikipedia’s definition: A hero (or heroine) is a real person or a main fictional character who, in the face of danger, combats adversity through feats of ingenuity, courage, or strength.

And I went old-fashioned. Webster’s Dictionary: A mythological or legendary figure often of divine descent endowed with great strength or ability. B) An illustrious warrior. C) A person admired for achievements and noble qualities.

I’ve been thinking lately about what a hero meant to me, specifically, not only in my own life, but beyond it – by that, I mean those who have had a direct impact on my life and whom I know have had the greatest impact on the lives of others.

People like my grandfather, Carl Webster, who (as the story goes from my grandmother, Dorothy Webster) when he was a young father – and times were tough in the 1950s in Alabama – went to the grocery store with very little money and no way to know how he was going to even get enough to feed his family.

Praying on the way to the market, standing there in a crowd of people, he found a $20 bill on the floor. His first instinct, he would tell my grandmother later, was to call out to see if anybody had dropped it. That’s the way he was raised. And he realized someone would of course say that they did.

He accepted that it had been someone else’s, but he had three small children and that maybe, on that particular day, God was providing. It might not be a conventional way, but in 1957 or ’58, it was the blessing the Webster family needed to get by.

Rather than announce it, or on the other hand, snatch it up and leave, he simply stood there quietly, waiting on someone else to either notice it and claim it, realizing they had honestly dropped it, and after a little while and no one had, he bent over and picked it up. He bought some groceries, including dinner, that night for their family.

…Which leads me to another hero.

It was early evening of June 15, 1987, and a 16-year-old Mitch was coming home, rolling up the hill in my hometown – Vernon, Alabama – and I had to drive past the window of Pa’s home, Carl’s home. It was still daylight, barely, outside, but he was standing in the kitchen window… I can still see him in my memory there, waving goodnight to me that night.

I got in, went upstairs, and maybe about an hour or so later, I was standing with my parents at my grandparents’ home down the hill, watching paramedics bring their gear into my grandfather’s bedroom. We were ushered back, away from the door, and my grandmother was understandably upset… she wanted to know what was going on.

Finally, the paramedics came out, and my granddad just didn’t make it. He had passed of a heart attack in his sleep. The one medic who had worked so hard to save him was practically distraught – he had to be helped up off the floor, his knees had given out, he was so tired.

That man’s name is Don Dollar.

And I will always be appreciative of Don for that. I’ve told him so privately, and now I’m telling him publicly. Thank you, Don, for what you did that night. I hope you know the impression you made on my life.

A mayor who accepted the challenge of building back a small town in northwest Alabama that was decimated by NAFTA, losing industries that employed hundreds in a town that was already small. But with the base of a trucking industry there, other small businesses, help from the people and his own business acumen, Glenn Crawford kept Vernon not only from boarding up, but closing down.

Under new leadership, built new schools, revamped its business plan, and if not thriving, Vernon seems to at least be doing much, much better, recently having one of its restaurants (Top Notch Pizza) being named one of the best in the state by al.com (Alabama Local News, Breaking News, Sports & Weather,) and taking the old school complex and re-shaping it into something that the community can be proud.

Now, did he do this alone? No, he’s had plenty of help. But he’s to be commended for his leadership efforts, and even though I’m no longer there, I grew up there, and I’m so happy for the people, for my friends and family, that they have a community, a small town, that’s healthy again.

A newspaper publisher named Stanley Dearman, who owned The Neshoba Democrat, in Philadelphia, Mississippi. When race problems in 1964 were sweeping like wildfires across his county and his city, when Dearman could’ve succumbed to death threats to his family and kept the news out of his newspaper, when his own life was threatened – Dearman sat at his office with a very real double-barrel shotgun, facing down all comers. Not only did he tell what needed to be told, the real news, he ultimately helped break the stories years later when the state of Mississippi came back to re-open the cases of murder of three civil rights workers and prosecute those who were responsible.

And I know that, ironically, because I was the reporter who went with him to Jackson to help write the story. Mr. Dearman hired me before he retired and sold the Democrat, and one day, I’ll elaborate on that story in a little more detail.

A good-hearted citizen here in Kilgore named Travis Martin, whose only crime is he never met a sports event of which he didn’t want to be a part. Travis has been the unofficial official (if you get my drift) booster club president of about every single sport in the Kilgore area, and a REAL LIFE member of the Kilgore College board of trustees, for years. Travis never met a stranger. If there’s a meal to be provided, he’ll cook it on a grill. If there’s not time for him to cook it, he’ll see that it’s cooked, or catered. Travis is a godsend to the Kilgore area, and I mean every school in the Kilgore area has benefitted from having Travis help out at some point.

My own Travis story: one year at the Oil Belt Classic baseball tournament, many years ago, a parent who has since moved from the Kilgore area couldn’t understand that I was at Driller Park to work. I explained that my press pass was in use to allow me to be admitted to write the story, take photos if need be, and give Kilgore, Sabine and other athletic programs some attention. She wouldn’t budge. I gave her the analogy, since she was a teacher, that what if I went to the school on Monday morning, blocked off the parking lot, and insisted she pay me $5 to park before I would allow her to pass?

“That’s not the same thing,” she insisted. “Yes, it really is,” I told her.

Travis noticed what was happening, because no one had arrived. He came bounding over.

“What’s happening here?!,” he said, in a voice barely above a whisper (Travis can’t really raise his voice. 😊

She explained that she wasn’t allowing me inside because the tournament rules said “no passes.”

“That doesn’t mean media,” Travis said. “Not Mitch, not Jack Stallard (of the Longview paper).”

She got quiet, lowered her head.

“Did you turn Jack away, too?” She paused. “I don’t know if it was Jack or not, but somebody with the Longview paper came by, and didn’t want to pay,” she said.

“Who else?,” Travis said.

She explained that KLTV-7, the local ABC affiliate, had also came by, and she had denied them entry.

Travis told her for the rest of the tournament, admit media. He turned to me to apologize. I told him no apology necessary.

I meant it, but Travis has nothing to apologize for, for anything. His tireless efforts for the youth of the Kilgore area have been extended for decades. Thank you so much, Travis, for all you’ve done, sincerely. And you deserve to be in every good hall of fame I can think of, and so many more.

Heroes don’t have to be older than you. I’m so proud of all three of my children for things they’ve done over the years, situations they’ve been in and how they’ve handled them. Great example of how one turned out right.

Teresa, our oldest, tried out for the high school’s drill team in her freshman year, and failed, and her sophomore year, and failed. It was to the point where all of her friends except one had quit trying, and while they weren’t making fun of Tee for trying out, you could hear the whispers – why does she keep trying? / she’s not going to get it now / she’s just not a dancer, she didn’t take enough classes as a kid, etc.

And more than once, Tee did falter. But she never, ever failed to get back up.

Then one night, at the end of her sophomore year, as they were announcing the Hi-Steppers for her junior year on the website – they did it by placing the number on the website – I was sitting at the bar in our kitchen, refreshing, refreshing, refreshing.

Tee got up from the bar. “I can’t stand it. I’m going to my room.”

She left, and I hit refresh one more time.

“Number 48…,” I said, muttered, under my breath, a little prayer. “Let it be there, Lord, she’s worked so hard.”

It refreshed… and 48. Was. There.

And Tee came running down the hall, in full sprint, and I mean, FULL sprint.

“I MADE IT! I MADE IT! I MADE IT! I MADE IT!”

She was crying. Truly one of the best moments in our family, ever, watching the hard work pay off for her, and I will never, ever, ever forget it.

I’ve got one more.

I know a stepfather who stepped in to fill big shoes, the shoes of a dad and former pastor who was loved by his two children and had to live the final days of his life after a stroke five years earlier. This stepfather does so much for his family, and loves unconditionally. He’s always there to listen, to move furniture, to give advice, to talk football – or to be a friend.

We love you, Verlin.

How about you guys? Think of heroes in your own life? I’d love to hear about ‘em. I’d love to hear about ‘em on our forums, on ETBlitz.com, which you can go and register for. They’re at the top of the page on the home page. There’s high school football, baseball and softball, and all kinds of options – I guess this would fit under “Off-Topic.” Or, you can just talk to me on Facebook. We always welcome any feedback.

Thanks for reading. God bless y’all.