Dad Is My Hero Essay

My Hero, My Dad Essay

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My Hero, My Dad

The wind was cold and bit deeply into the skin on my exposed legs and chest. I shivered a little, shielding my face against the cold by putting my back to the wind. Standing alone on the platform, high against the background of the rest of the park sent shivers tightly down my spine. I watched the goose bumps raise neatly on my arms and legs. I took a deep breath, closed my eyes, sighed out my anxieties and jumped.

I was quickly being violently thrashed about inside the fiberglass tube, working my way down the cascading waterfall of death. The water slide threw me like a rag doll in the air only to catch me again with the gentleness of Mr. Toad’s Wild Ride. This jolt sent my head…show more content…

There was disorder on the outside. Apparently everyone thought I was in trouble. I did not think so. The serene clarity of my water wonderland put my mind at ease.

Unfortunately the concussion I suffered from the water slide skewed my judgment, if only slightly. A lifeguard immediately recognized my situation and, accordingly, leapt into the pool, bubbly with the thought of saving a life. He quickly and accurately swam across the watery expanse determined to put his training to use, saving a complete stranger. Lying at the bottom of the pool, I was completely unaware of the goings on up above. All I remember was the hand.

My rescuer’s hand plunged through the glassy surface above and took a hold of mine. I was drawn from my trance as I was drawn from the water. I immediately gasped for air, thrashing as the oxygen started to fill my lungs. At first I couldn’t tell who carried me to the side of the pool, focusing on breathing, feeling like I had never used my lungs before. When I caught my breath, I stared into my lifesaver’s face. To my surprise my father’s eyes stared back.

Astonishing onlookers and baffling the lifeguard on duty, my dad heroically jumped in the water, beat the trained guard to me and plucked me from the blissful waters through his love for his son. All this time my rescuer, my savior, was my own dad. I did not even realize he was near enough to

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As Father’s Day approaches, sending a card or calling my father seems inadequate given all he has done for me over my lifetime. So I’m writing this blog post to more adequately express my thoughts.

My father was born and raised in a farming family who had to move farms on several occasions due to poor crops, bad weather and the Great Depression. He worked his way through his university studies and Bachelor’s degree. He fought in World War II as a co-pilot in a B-17 bomber. On his fourth mission over Germany, his plane was shot down and within a few days, he found himself in Stalag-Luft 1, a German prisoner of war camp, near Barth.

Dad was a POW from mid-September to mid-May,  suffering months of brutally cold weather in northern Germany. The POWs survived on a very limited diet, no heat and overly crowded barracks. I write this to let you know that he didn’t have it easy, yet what is most impressive is that my father never complains. Perhaps because of his upbringing and his POW experience, he realizes that things could be worse and that complaining doesn’t usually help.

I am so very grateful to have my father as my Hero. A father that taught me by example how to live a full life, to be happy and grateful. A father who taught me to work hard and not complain.

Thank you and Happy Father’s Day! p.s. He was also a great family historian

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