Having just returned from the public viewing of President Gordon B. Hinckley, I am filled with emotion, contemplating the great sense of loss I feel. 

Earlier this year, President Bush posthumously honored Cpl. Jason Dunham with the Medal of Honor.  At a subdued White House ceremony, Dunham was recognized for his heroism in April of 2004, where he threw himself on a hand grenade to save the life of his fellow Marines.

Receiving the Medal of Honor is this nation’s most prestigious honor, and since the beginning of the war, it has been awarded only two times. These rare medal ceremonies are among the most solemn and dignified events conducted at the White House, and they have been likened to the bestowal of knighthood in other countries.  It is the ceremonious method this country has established to recognize gallantry and valor, the most extraordinary of human characteristics.  

Dunham’s medal ceremony was an historic event, but one which was completely ignored by the New York Times.  Although the Times employs a full-time White House correspondent, and boasts a full compliment of staffers in its Washington bureau, no mention of the ceremony appeared anywhere in print. It failed to mention Dunham’s heroism, his character, or his family’s acceptance of the award on his behalf. In fact, a search on the New York Times website will result in just two articles which mention Dunham by name. One article is a book review that mentions Dunham’s actions, and the other is an article using his name to criticize the Bush Administration’s management of the Iraq conflict.

Fast forward to May 4, 2007, and the Times prominently posts an article about a Cuban army officer killed during a failed airplane hijacking (http://tinyurl.com/2vr33q). The slain officer was awarded Cuba’s highest honor, the Medal of Valor. The article also goes into great detail to describe  the man's character,  and such personal traits as his “sense of humor and dedication to duty.”

The article repeats the communist regime’s claim that the man was killed as an ''act of terror promoted by the United States, '' because Cuban officials criticize the U.S. policy of trying hijackers in a U.S. court, rather than returning them to Cuba to face trial.

How could the Times ignore the heroism of Jason Dunham, yet willingly report on one of Fidel Castro’s military heroes?  Is this proof of the New York Times “liberal bias?”  Probably not. But was it a bumbling mistake or purposeful omission?

As a respected corporate citizen whose news reporting is among the best in the world, the Times should do better. Because the Times chose to recognize a Cuban hero rather than an American hero, they have dishonored the memory of Jason Dunham, ignored the distinguished legacy of the Medal of Honor, and insulted all those in uniform.

If the incident is not a purposeful snub meant to express their opposition to the War on Terror, then the Times should admit the error was just another in a series of blunders. They should also issue an apology to the Dunham family for disrespecting their son, and his supreme sacrifice for our country.

If it was something other than a mindless oversight, then we shouldn’t hold our breath for an apology. In that case, shame on the New York Times.

Shame, shame, shame.

In the foreword of my recent book “The Quiet Hero,” former Senator and World War II hero Bob Dole wrote “The character of a nation can well be determined by how it pays homage to its heroes.”

 

“The Quiet Hero” (http://TheQuietHero.com) is the biography of George E. Wahlen, a Medal of Honor recipient who earned our nation’s highest honor at the battle for Iwo Jima. 

 

Allow me to briefly explain his heroism:

On February 19, 1945, George landed on Iwo Jima with his Marine company of 250 men. As a corpsman, his job was to go out beyond the lines and give medical aid to the wounded. He was hit several times and could have been evacuated on each occasion. But because he stayed on the battlefield, he saved the lives many Marines. His story remains one of the most incredible accounts of heroism in U.S. military history.

 

He received the Medal of Honor from President Truman, his official medal citation reads like a rejected John Wayne movie script too grand to be believed. After returning from Iwo Jima, he spent nine months in a rehabilitation hospital. After discharge, he came home and stuffed the Medal of Honor in a dresser and told no one about it. Even his wife didn’t know he was a national war hero until years after they were married. She only learned by chance after she curiously opened an invitation for George to attend the inauguration of President Eisenhower.

 

He spent almost six decades trying to forget Iwo Jima. Fortunately, the years have dulled the pain, and he agreed to tell me the sobering details of his story. Hence the book.

 

His actions sets the gold standard for heroism, at least in my mind.  But I have often wondered how others would attribute the word “hero” to someone who did not exhibit a similar level of valor or gallantry. 

 

I have yet to find a common definition of heroism, something I believed would be a no-brainer.  But I have since learned that the word is often defined by social context and political ideology.

 

I’ve seen the word hero follow words like “rock and roll,” “Dungeons and Dragons,” “dog,” “baseball” or  “dental.”

 

I’ve seen “hero” defined by various student groups, activists and political entities with such words as tolerant, generous, compassionate, philanthropist,  humble, or advocate.

 

Of greater interest to me are the people they consider to be heroes.  They include Muhammad Ali, Malcom X, Robert Mapplethorpe, John Lennon, or Bob Dylan. One site concocts the feminine word “shero,”  and infers a disdain for the predominance of heroes that are “traditionally dominated” by men. They cite “sheroes” like Betty Freidan, Gloria Stienem, and Barbara Jordan. Their definitions were also broad enough to include influential “social heroes” like AIDS, the fall of the Berlin Wall, and the “Live Aid” benefit concerts of the eighties.  (http://www.heroism.org)

 

Because our language lacks sufficient terms to describe our ever-complex existence, the language has become increasingly muddled.  Think of how difficult it is for people who are learning English as a second language, to read a sentence like: “They were too close to the door to close it,” or “Since there is no time like the present, he thought it was time to present the present.”

If you harken back to your fifth grade English class, you may recall learning about homophones (words that are pronounced alike, but not necessarily spelled alike) and

homographs (words that have the same spelling as another, but can differ in meaning or pronunciation).

 

I propose that we should add “hero” to the long list of homographs like “bottom” (below) and “bottom” (your backside); or “bank” (for money) and “bank” (riverside).  By defining hero as a homograph, we could avoid the inherent conflict between those of opposing political and social ideologies who insist on diluting the word beyond the point of usefulness.

 

So, here’s my proposal: the word “hero” should become a standardized homograph with these three distinct definitions:  1- a person who acts selflessly while securing the safety of others; 2- a sandwich of generally Italian flavor; 3- a belief in a social ideal, role model, or desired social outcome.

 

With the hero being a homograph, you could reasonably say, “Be a hero, go to the deli and get a hero so we can honor this American hero.”

 

If we allow the Bob Dylan’s and Betty Friedan’s of the world to be mentioned as heroic equals to the George Wahlen’s of the world,  then we can only expect future generations to use words like “valor,” “bravery,” and “gallantry” to mean nothing more than doing a little above average