A Hero
No one walked out that Tuesday morning and thought about becoming a hero. We all just moved through the morning like it was any other beautiful autumn day with the prefect blue sky.
A freak accident was the first speculation, soon the heartbreak of our whole country and the world were recognized. The kids were released early from school. Everyone wanted to get home and hold on as tight as they could to family. The answering machine was already blinking, calls from my sisters, just checking if we were ok and to say I love you. I love you too.
Hero; a person admired for courage. The news was filled with stories of so many heroes. I wondered could I be a hero if needed? Did I know a hero? I do. Ben Portnoy.
My family lived in Levittown, Pennsylvania across the street from Ben and Helen Portney and their two children Allen and Iris. Ben was the gentle giant type. He was a foreman at a company that cleaned out oil tanks. He played baseball out in the front lawn with Allen and made sure Iris was dressed like a little princess and had lots of fluffy dresses. Ben had nicknames for people. When I would go over to play with Iris, the big bear of a guy would come to the door, usually in his boxer shorts and say, ”ah, my little chicken” and give me a pinch on the cheek. He called my dad “Cosmo” or “Cos”(the name Cosmo means order,organization,beauty). My mom and Helen had their morning coffee club and would talk, talk, talk. That’s what it seemed like to me. They would go shopping together sometimes too, Helen didn’t drive and my mom was one of the few moms back then with a car of her own. One trip they came home with matching dress (different colors), a one-piece shirt and shorts with a wrap around skirt that could be worn over the shorts. A tennis now, lunch later, all in one outfit.
There was a very bad snowstorm one winter and everyone lost their power for a day or so. Lines were down and hidden under the snow and people were killed walking on them. You didn’t want to be outside. But Ben crossed the street so we would have a camp stove to cook on. He was a good neighbor and friend. Always there to give my dad a helping hand with many home improvement projects.
One afternoon I came home from school and found Iris and Allen at our house. My mom had picked them up early from school. Their mother had to leave, there had been some kind of accident at work was all we were told. So we waited. What we didn’t know yet was that Ben had been killed in the accident. His crew was working in a tank that had high levels of fumes and two of his men had passed out. He called for help, but instead of waiting for them to arrive he went down in the tank alone to pull them out. He didn’t make it, he was over-come by the fumes too. Helen came home and walked her children across the street and my mom broke the news to us. I’ll never forget that scream that came from across the street.
Sometime later Iris was over and her and my sister and I were playing some silly game we made up under the table. I don’t remember how it went but that we were firing questions at each other around in a circle, things like, who’s your mother, what are you going to be, what’s your favorite color, and so on. When it was my turn I said something dumb like, what’s your dad do? We all froze. Iris’s face lost its color and looked like it melted off. She jumped up and ran home. I felt so so bad and stupid, but the worst part is, I can’t remember going over and saying I was sorry. I hope I did. That was my foot and mouth moment.
Haha, that was a trick question....there are only 7 in the photo....one is outside the shot and one is taking the photo. If you found 7, then you get a star.
But hooray, even though we're usually not so much into white wines, their Chardonney is pretty fine. Yippee! So a bottle of wine, some goat cheese with dill and garlic, sitting on a sky deck overlooking vinyards and miles of valley on a weather-perfect day, well, it doesn't get much better than that.