Open Letter to Joe

Dear Joe,

I’ve been thinking a lot lately about what it means to be a hero.

When the Isuzu Trooper was hit with a sheet of ice from another SUV in front of us on the way to Cleveland for Christmas, and when it came crashing through the windshield and sprayed me in the face with glass and ice and snow, and showered my wife and twins in the back seat and I was blinded for a moment or two, Liz said I was a 'hero' for saving their lives. She said I was their hero for not panicking, for finding a way to drive on while looking through the narrow hole at the top of the shattered windshield. She said I was a hero for not stopping and causing another accident on the snow covered highway, and for getting us the rest of the way to grandma’s house without incident. She called me a hero for keeping my calm and for keeping us all alive that day, especially Chloe who was in the front seat with me - and had Ice and glass all over her head and hands (I was a hero to her but she was brave anyway. She just kept very still until we could vacuum the ice and glass off her hands before they cut her, complaining only once by saying; "Daddy, I just want to move back to California").

That day after Christmas got me thinking about a lot of things.

I wanted to let you know that I am no hero. Just a father, doing what a father does to protect his family. I am writing you this letter because I wanted to tell you that as one father to another, YOU are MY hero. For you are doing everything I did that day to protect my family, everyday - for countless families here and in Iraq. YOU are the true hero, Joe.

I know at Thanksgiving we said some things about our political differences and the discussion got quite heated. We may not see eye to eye on the current political situation here and abroad, you are certainly a man of great conviction and I am proud to call you my brother. I didn’t want you to go to Iraq – I still don’t – but as long as you are there saving lives everyday, you have my support and my love. I will do what I can to help Barb and the kids during your yearlong service in Iraq. You have a great head on your shoulders, so I only ask that you use your instincts fully and come home alive.

I will ALWAYS be proud to call you my brother.

All my love,

Chip