John H

I have chosen my grandfather, Johnny, as my all-time hero. When you talk about perseverance, patience, and joy, grandpa was the epitome of all these. When my dad was two weeks old, Grandpa, a caboose man on the Rock Island Line, fell off the caboose and was run over by the train. He survived, although he was a quadriplegic. I would visit Grandpa, and he would try to speak. I am the only one who could understand him. He could not speak, but we communicated through gestures and movements that he could make with one arm. He always listened to the St. Louis Cardinals ball games and smiled when they scored. Before I'd leave, he'd give me a tight hand squeeze, and then a facial expression as if to say, "Oh, I didn't hurt you, did I?" Day after day for 57 years he sat looking out his window and listening to the ball game. He became my hero because his heart was always joyful, even under circumstances that would probably make the average person grumpy and depressed. My hero: my grandpa.

Submitted by Anonymous

Patience