Arland

    When we talk about heroes, people mention firemen and policemen, maybe doctors or everyone in the military. That’s all true. Or we’ll talk about King Arthur or Luke Skywalker or these very fictionalized icons from history or film, and they fit the definition of a hero, too, however unrealistic the characters are. Or some people say things like “My dad” or “My sister” or some other relative that they love. That could be true, but I’m pretty skeptical of it. No sense bastardizing the word and applying it to anyone that hasn’t screwed up their lives. But I mean, these are answers you give when a teacher tells you to write an essay about what it means to be a hero to you. And you come up with some bullshit, and let’s face it, a lot of it is bullshit, either because it’s so trite and abstract or because it’s mostly fiction or delusions. I did that, too, and I’d get mad when people disagreed that my mom was a hero.

    But these heroes are made-heroes, either through training or exaggerations or some biases. I don’t mean made like their actions turned them from one of us average folk into heroes, but I mean made we made them into heroes. Objectively, they might not be heroes. Let’s take police. Is every policeman a hero? Really? The ones that sit at the desk, the few that are dirty, the few who never see any action or have the potential for action, the ones that abuse their power and hand out traffic tickets to anyone that barely exceeds the speed limit on an empty road? Are they all heroes? Sure, some of them are. And I respect them for it, but I don’t know their names and I don’t know what they’ve done to earn this status. I mean, Hercules had to go through twelve grueling trials to be called a hero. Can every cop say the same? Some of the kids I knew in high school that became a local cop in our town that averages one murder a year are not hero potential. They were bullies, idiots, jackasses, immoral and just plain average. Being a cop for them was about getting a gun and cuffs and a badge and more power than what they had as the kings of homecoming court. They might’ve changed since then, but I doubt it.

    When we call people heroes, we ruin the word, we water it down for all the real ones out there. I was volunteering at an old folks home called Hilltop Manor, and they had a church service from the Calvary church on video. We watched it and the pastor talked about Arland D. Williams, a hero from 29 years ago. A real hero. If you’re like me and aren’t old enough to have seen the footage or you just missed the news that month, look it up. It’s hard to handle but you shouldn’t look away. He dies, I’ll tell you that. There was a plane that crashed into a bridge and plowed into the Potomac, an icy river I’m told. Six people survived the crash, among them Arland. Helicopters came and lowered a rope to save these six, but it wouldn’t happen. The helicopter’s skids were under the water at one point, that’s how close it was and how desperate the pilot was to save them. The rope fell to Arland. But he was trapped under the fuselage. He passed it to someone else. They climbed up and lived. The rope went back to Arland. Passed it to someone else. They lived. Lenny Skuknik, another hero, dived in to rescue a woman who was too weakened to pull herself up. Gene Windsor, the paramedic, stood on a skid and lifted a woman from the water. They were taken to shore because Arland couldn’t hold on to the rope. The tail-end sunk and so did Arland. He died. He saved two others at least. He passed life vests and floatation devices to the others. He was resigned that night. He knew he’d die and he helped the others.

    Maybe he was thinking, like I expect I would be, this is a pretty cool way to go. Maybe he was religious and thought this was God’s Will. Maybe he was just a normal guy and crying his eyes out the whole fucking time because he didn’t want to die either. I can’t tell you. Maybe some of the survivors could, but I can’t.

    This is old news and I don’t give two shits about that. Everyone should know about it. Maybe you didn’t have a TV then. Maybe you were just a plan in your parents’ minds. But you should know about Arland, about Air Florida Flight 90 on January 13, 1982. You just should.