What makes a hero?

Recently in my life I have been moved to ask the question “what is a hero?” On April 9, 2013 at about 4:15 AM our 20 year old daughter came upstairs to wake us up. Her 16 year old brother had been falling asleep when he thought he smelled smoke. He went into his bathroom which is connected to our garage and it was hot. He tells me that something told him what to do. He thinks that his deceased grandfather helped him. He ran to the kitchen to get the fire extinguisher and yelled at everyone downstairs to wake up.

Loren tried to put out the fire but he was unable to. But, in trying to put the fire out he bought us time. Kacy his 20 year old sister was panicking as she woke us up. Her dad yelled at her to call 911 and we proceeded to get downstairs after her. As I went downstairs our stairs were filled with white smoke. My husband Scott yelled at me to get out the door. I flew out the door thinking that my mom and both of my daughters were out. As Scotty followed me out the door the fire turned and became a fireball that went up the stairs.

Scotty yelled to Loren who had come back in to get his 76 year old grandma, his 18 year old sister and our two dogs. He yelled to him to go out the backdoor. Loren already knew what to do. He corralled them out the backdoor. By then Kacy and I were across the street watching our house in flames. I could hear her younger sister Kody yelling that they were going to die. I have never felt so helpless in my life. Scotty was on the sidewalk trying to figure out how to get them out of the yard. Common sense is the first thing to go unless you are a 16 year old boy.

I yelled at Scotty to go in the neighbor’s yard and breakdown the fence. He did, soon they were running out and across the street except my mom. Loren once again stepped up to bat because no one else could. He got my mom across the street. The police had arrived at this point. The first officer on the scene was quick to get my mom in the back of his car. He had the car running and the heater blowing.

Now, I knew to grab my cell phone after all I would need it. I didn't grab shoes, I didn't grab pants, I didn't grab my glasses, oh no, I grabbed my TV remote. Now mind you I will never use that TV again but oh boy I sure have that remote. Soon the fire fighters arrived……..That I will add to later.

But, what I have written today asked that question. What is it that makes a hero? Is it part of your DNA? Is it being helped what to do by your deceased grandpa? I don’t know. What I do know is that my 16 year old son saved the lives of 5 other people and two dogs. I do know that he went back into a fire he was already outside from to bring out loved ones. Most assuredly we would have all died because the fire fighters were not there early enough. He is my hero.