THERE WERE MANY INCIDENTS that inspired my search for the great American hero. A pivotal one occurred when I was eight or nine years old in public school in Rochester, a middle-class tailoring center in upstate New York. This was my first contact with a living legend, a fragile little old man, obviously bewildered, dressed in a blue Civil War uniform worn thin over the years.
I never learned the man’s name. Our teacher, a pretty young woman whose military knowledge was limited, just presented him as, “The Soldier.” That was enough for us kids — he was The Soldier, plain and simple, a veteran to be honored, though long past his fighting prime.
The old vet lovingly clutched a flag as tall as he was, holding it rigidly upright like an antenna.
He faced the class. Proudly he unfurled the flag — to the cheers of his eager young audience.
This was a banner I had never seen before. It had the same number of red stripes as today, four above the union, three below. However, the blue union area in the upper corner carried a single five-pointed star made up of 35 smaller stars.
At a much later date I learned that it was a popular flag at the time, called the 35-star Great Star Flag, similar to the 36-star flag that draped President Lincoln’s coffin. The company that made the coffin flag gave it 36 stars by mistake.
Yes, the nation confused us as much then as it does now.
The teacher came forward.
“Class, we are fortunate today to be addressed by a great American hero who brings to you an historic message.”
The little soldier stepped forward. Beginning with the student in the back left corner of the room, he extended his right hand, and shook the seated kid’s hand. As he did, he said these words:
“Shake the hand that shook the hand of Abraham Lincoln!”
He moved from desk to desk, shook every hand, and repeated the same message to each and all.
Wow!
Historic? More than that... it was iconic.
Our teacher sidled into a position in back of the vet. She pointed her finger to her forehead and twirled it. We all hoped it didn’t mean what we all knew it meant. We kids of Rochester, New York, were smarter than a lot of people thought we were.
So we paid her no mind. Our enthusiasm was evident, and the inspired old soldier was encouraged. He burst out into song.
“Oh, the old flag never touched the ground, boys. The dear old flag was never down!”
Mission accomplished. The children kept on cheering and the old vet kept singing as he marched out of the classroom, another battle won. Another great boost for a patriotic nation.
I would always remember the odd little fighting man as I continued in my life-long quest for the great American Hero. Eventually I would find him... and more.
You must have seen a few of them in your neighborhood — the ever-expanding, ever-exciting fantasy world of comic books.