Selfless. Brave. Noble. Such are the world’s heroes! Consider the heroes in your life. Veterans might come to mind. Perhaps your grandfather, mother, or brother helped fight for freedom – or maybe you’ve done so yourself. Veterans have played a pivotal role in making America the country it is today, going beyond the call of duty to save lives and risk their own. And they’re considered heroes not just by family and friends, but by the country at large.
But heroes come in many different forms! From the neighborhood firefighter to the considerate stranger, the kindness and courage of those around us can better our lives. To celebrate heroes everywhere, Paralyzed Veterans of America and Gather invite you to share a story about such a person in your life. You could win a 3-day, 2-night stay in Washington D.C. on Veterans Day weekend (November 10-12, 2007).
One (1) Grand Prize will include:
- Roundtrip airfare for two to Washington D.C. from anywhere within the continental U.S.
- Two nights hotel accommodations for two
- Two dinners out for two
- VIP seating at a Veteran's Day Ceremony at Arlington National Cemetery, plus invitations to attend a private reception following the ceremony
- A copy of Medal of Honor: Portraits of Valor Beyond the Call of Duty by Nick Del Calzo
How to Enter
To enter the "Hero In My Life" writing competition, you must first be a member of the Support Veterans group on Gather. Join Now >>
After you've completed the group registration, publish your “A Hero In My Life” essay by following these easy steps (multiple entries are allowed):
- Click on the Publish tab at the top of any Gather page
- Select Publish an Article
- Draft your 300- to 500-word essay; you may include an image of your hero
- In the Tag field, you must include the word "hero" by itself, separated from any other words by a comma
- In the Who can view my article field, select "Everyone" and also the "Support Veterans" group
- Click Save
The Gather community will vote to choose the top ten (10) essays. The Gather Editorial Team will select one (1) Grand Prize winning entry and three (3) runners-up based on originality and creativity, appropriateness to topic, and clarity of essay.
All entries must be received by 11:59pm on June 29, 2007. Voting will end at 11:59 on July 4, 2007. The 10 finalists will be announced on Gather.com on July 9, 2007, and the Grand Prize Winner will be announced on or before July 16, 2007.

How to Vote
To vote on the “Hero In My Life” entries, simply click the star at the end of each essay that corresponds with your rating. You can only rate each essay once, and cannot change or remove your ratings.
The essays may only be rated by registered Gather members. You do not have to be a member of the Support Veterans group to vote. Entrants in this competition are not allowed to rate their own work, per Gather’s Terms of Service. Authors who rate their own essays will be disqualified.
Read the Official Contest Rules.


Comments: 24
One day, the teachers and my mother were wondering why I was so odd -- I didn't think about boys, I preferred to read or wander and think rather than play with other children, I didn't worry about the things a girls should do. I didn't care if I had friends, or what the other kids thought of me. Mom and the teachers were worried about me. In the early '60's, not fitting in could destroy a girl's life, in so many ways.
Everyone was surprised when Mrs. Mills stepped into the group. Her grey eyes burning, her head up, she snapped: "Leave Donna alone! She marches to her own drummer!"
I know why she did this. As a girl, she was told to shut up, get in line and obey. Breed, or take a low-paying job. Keep her mouth shut. Be humble. They took her down.
Regardless of what it might do to her, she wasn't going to see it happen to another little girl. I like to think she succeeded. I've never forgotten it.
Thank you, Mrs. Mills.
Just a reminder everyone, your comments are more than welcome to this article! However, if you are trying to enter the contest, you will need to publish your response as a separate article.
I have also supported PVA for years. They send me cards, address labels and I send donations in return. It's a good organization to represent although qualifications are costly. It's sort of like being a cancer survivor which I am, glad that I survived it , would rather not have joined the group. Mahala W.
I am proud of you, SIR and for your bravery in allowing all of us to have the freedom we have today. SALUTE!
Joyce Rapier
You were NOT alone. When you described yourself, you were also describing me - to a T - during the same time period - late 50s, early 60s. My parents and teachers worried about me, too - naturally, they thought the worst, and expressed it to me, too. I never really fit in, felt terribly misunderstood, even in my own immediate family - nor did I have friends - not even in high school, either.
But I continued to march to my own drumbeat, and still do. I can't help it, it's who I am - but too many years went by before I could finally feel comfortable in my own skin.
I LONGED all those years to have someone in my corner to understand and defend me.
Donna, you were soooo unbelieveably fortunate to have a champion like Mrs. Mills in your corner.
It sure would have made a huge difference in my life if I did.
Rita T.
Roger Dean Kiser, author
http://www.geocities.com/author_rdkiser
Back in the 1980's when the drugs were flowing into the United States and when drug interdiction was intense, I signed up for a special task force working directly for the NSA, CIA, FBI, DEA, and under the direct offices of the President of The United States.
I was a U.S. Coast Guard Helicopter Pilot and at the time we had a special program where Navy and Coast Guard Pilot's could trade places for a 6 month period of time, so I was working under the (DOT) Department of Transportation and the (DOD) Department of Defense, we were working a special drug task force where we had been given a clandestine operation where we were dropping CIA operatives and troops deep into Columbia, after going through the usual what if something went wrong, and what if we were captured, and what if the mission was blown, we pre-flight our helo and we flew into the night sky.
The mission starts out at a briefing at 18:00 hours at an Air Force station in the southeastern Carribean, we were to fly some operatives deep into Columbia where they were to meet up with some U.S. backed Rebel's, after a short flight to an awaiting navy carrier we refueled and picked up our guest and of course they were all dressed so as not to recognized by anyone and we were given our final flight orders.
We were to fly with another group of helo's to an LZ (landing zone) deep into a place we should never of been in the first place, following our order's we plugged in our coordinates into the loran and plotted our course to the LZ, it was a relatively short flight only a couple hours away, everything was going well, op's normal and all flight systems were doing their job, we arrived at the coast and reduced our altitude to just about 100 feet off tree top level and scaled our air speed back to about 90 knots, with night vision on we located our LZ and we landed with no problems, it only took a matter of minutes to unload our guest and their cargo, with the head (rotor blades) turning we prepared for take off, and with a slight pull of the collective and a push of the cyclic we were airborne again.
Everything was going as planned, I was sitting in the co-pilots seat and was attending to the master control panel on the console, we were about ½ mile from the LZ when the pilot and I heard something knock, we instantaneously looked at one another when warning lights on the Master Control Panel on the flight console started to light up, as co-pilot it was my job to attend to all the issues that presented themselves and to solve all the problems that came up while the pilot flew the helo, I started to work all the warnings one at a time, the main issue was a clog in the fuel bypass filters on both engines which was extremely rare, in short terms this meant the filters which filtered the fuel to the engines were clogged and we were going to run out of fuel, I instructed the radioman of the situation and instructed him to broadcast a 'Mayday' to comm's support with the carrier and activated our emergency locator beacon's, the flight mech started to prepare for a crash and I continued to work the Master Control Panel lights, we were trying to gain some altitude so we might locate a clearing where we could immediately land this crippled bird, were just about 200 feet off the tree's and we knew we were jeopardizing our mission altitude ceiling, but when in a situation like this you sort of do what needs to be done, and locating some small clearing was a priority, with all the radio traffic going on it was quite busy and extremely confusing, we had thought for a minute that we might beat this thing, there was a chance there might of been an avionics error and the warning lights were all false, after that thought passed by, we immediately both heard what you never want to hear as a helicopter pilot, woosh! then followed by the sound of engine turbines winding down and the sudden losing of altitude and hydraulic power, the engines were running out of fuel, followed by more warning lights and more confusion, a continuous drove of mayday's were going out from the radioman in the back, sweat was rolling down my face as I had my hands on the yoak (flight controls) and telling the pilot to hold it steady, come on Charlie I said come on, I quickly looked over at Charlie for what seemed to be a frozen moment in time, and it almost appeared like tears were rolling down his face, I screamed out loud into the ICS system (internal communications system) crew prepare for impact, prepare for impact I screamed again, I looked out the window and tree tops were brushing the bottom of the helo, both the pilot and I aggressively pulled up on the collective trying to auto rotate (giving the rotating blades maximum drag to allow the falling helo to land softer) but it was futile we were left side down and in the trees, impact was horrible and massive, after I regained my sense about what had just happened, I suddenly realized that I had survived this crash, I didn't feel anything, I wasn't in pain either, I looked over at Charlie and his head was down unconscious I presumed, I called his name, Charlie?....Charlie? But it was no use he was out, I squeezed the ICS on the cyclic, pilot to crew....pilot to crew...but again nothing, there was no sound from anyone, Fire I thought! but it was dark I could see nothing and I saw no fire, I could barely hear a faint sound of what I presumed to be the engines still winding down and some radio traffic in my helmet I squeezed the transmit button on my stick, CG1482 to base....Cg1482 to base.....but again I received no response, then I reached for a flashlight on the bulkhead, and I began to look around, as I tried to move my legs to try and get out I could not move at all, I shined the flashlight down towards my legs and saw that the whole front of the cockpit was crashed in on top of my legs trapping me there in the cockpit, trapped? Oh my god I am trapped in this thing, and I know that we were carrying approximately 3000lbs of jet fuel on takeoff from the LZ, what if this thing catches on fire? Oh dear god please let me get out.
Ok now I started to concentrate on my flight training and all the crash scenarios that I had been through, concentrate Buck, concentrate and analyze the situation...........Ok now where's my 9mm Lugar that I have, oh no it's in my ankle holster, Damn it! Now what do I do? I can't get to my 9mm oh why did I choose to carry my gun in my ankle harness tonight? I always carry it in my shoulder harness, but tonight I wanted it where it wouldn't be in the way, darn it anyway's, what if someone discovers the crash? They will surly shoot me through the head, Columbians hate the Americans....oh dear god.....now the realization of the crash is setting in, I am starting to feel this massive thrust coming up from my legs, oh Jesus, pain is starting to take control, it's unbearable, wow I just didn't know anything could hurt as much as this........all I can do is sit here and remain quiet, and hopefully the emergency locator beacons are putting out the signal so a medivac helicopter can find me and get me out of here.......time passes..... hour after hour, minute by minute, it would seem to be like a lifetime of minutes before medivac would find me, I am hurting horribly and bleeding and feeling weak by the hour, it would be 8 hours before I would hear the sound of helo blades slapping in the wind, but it was true finely they have found me, oh dear god I am saved, trees are blowing and then obscure lights would beam down on top of me, OH? What if this is the enemy? Oh what do I do?........Then there was this big strong arm that came in my crumpled window and grabbed me by the collar of my flight suit, and I heard this booming voice ring out..... Sir? Are you ok sir? I tried to speak out towards the voice, again the voice said ...Sir are you alive?...I slowly turned as much as I could to look out the window and said, Yes I am alive..and this voice responded back to me and said...Sir we will have you out of there in a flash, hang in there, tears were starting to roll down my cheeks, it wasn't long before they had me out, there I was in this massive pain, my hips and knees were all crushed, and as they lay me in this stoke's litter this voice came to my side, and as I looked up toward this man my eyes fell on this big beautiful black man, and he also had tears in his eyes, he looked at me for a split second and said...Sir your gonna be just fine, you'll be as good as new again, I reached out to shake this mans hand and the one thing thet I remember most about this night is when I shook this mans hand, it was so big that it engulfed mine, and with that I was whisked away in the medivac helo and on my way to the aircraft carrier, and then on to Portsmouth Virginia Naval Hospital where I was taken care of and did most of my rehabilitation.
I never did that mans name, or could I ever bring up any information about that evenings mission because of it's top secret nature, yes that man was my hero and still is, I know one thing for sure, I may never know who this man is, but I will always know this mans hand shake, so I shake allot of hands these days with high hopes of meeting up with my hero once again so that I may give this man a big hug, I truly believe I will find him someday, I will find my hero or die trying, God Bless this man for he truly gave me my life back, and he truly was my guardian angel on this night and he will always be an angel in my heart.
Truly
Buck
I just joined Gather this morning so I'm too late to enter your Heroes contest. One of my dearest friends is not only a hero known far and wide; he is also featured in the book you are giving to your contest winners. The Rodolpho P. 'Rudy' Hernandez story is detailed on Page 104 of Nick Del Calzo's Medal of Honor: Portraits of Valor Beyond the Call of Duty.
Rudy Hernandez demonstrated such remarkable courage fifty years ago on a Korean battlefield that President Harry S. Truman draped the Congressional Medal of Honor around his neck. At the time, Rudy was still unable to speak due to his wounds, but the photograph of the ceremony proves there was nothing wrong with his smile.
With his under-strength unit in danger of being overwhelmed by Chinese soldiers, Rudy, a nineteen-year-old corporal and squad leader, heard the order to retreat. Already seriously wounded, he instead passed the order to his men and attacked to buy them time. Later, medics found him lying in a tangle of bodies. Rudy had killed at least six enemy soldiers, armed only with the bayonet affixed to his jammed M1 rifle. That he survived was a miracle in itself. The life he went on to live as a V.A. councilor for other soldiers ravaged by their war experiences was further testimony to Rudy's faith in God and love of country.
Last night my wife Becky and I watched Clint Eastwood's extraordinary film "Flags of Our Fathers", and the first thing she asked me afterwards was, "Have you called Rudy yet to say happy Fourth of July?"
"No, but you read my mind."
Rudy answered on the second ring, and the sound of his cheerful voice, as always, filled me with wonder. We had a fine talk, and I was once again reminded how fortunate I am to call this incredible hero my friend.
Good luck with your contest, Sir. As always, writing about Rudy was my pleasure.