By Steve Smith
Heroism is a difficult thing to define, even more difficult to
measure, and maybe a completely impossible thing to predict. When
it comes to peace officers and other public safety officers we
expect that, at times in their careers, they may have to display
some measure of heroism. Some even cynically say that that is what
they are paid for. But, we never know when it will be called for
and we never know from who it will arise. Such are the vagaries of
the human condition.
Heroism is a difficult thing to define, even more difficult to measure, and maybe a completely impossible thing to predict. When it comes to peace officers and other public safety officers we expect that, at times in their careers, they may have to display some measure of heroism. Some even cynically say that that is what they are paid for. But, we never know when it will be called for and we never know from who it will arise. Such are the vagaries of the human condition.
There is no test that I know of to predict who, in a moment of grave danger, will act with heroism. For that matter we don’t really know who will even do their duty. Heroism is more than duty and more than mere generosity, for in duty and generosity there is little risk in failure. Heroism is the most sublime and selfless act we as humans can achieve. It is never planned, for who in their right mind would endanger themselves, and possibly deprive their families of their love and support?
Potential officers are placed through batteries of physical, psychological, and medical testing prior to their appointments as peace officers. Those tests fall woefully short of predicting heroes. How can we measure who will turn towards, not run away from, the gunshots and who will run into, not away from, the burning buildings?
We saw evidence of such heroism on September 11, 2001. And we saw it again on May 25, 2007 in Aromas.
I was not there when a deeply troubled man assaulted his neighbor at a cafe. I was not forced to take cover while he threatened murder and suicide with an automatic weapon. I was not there when he began to burn his own house down. But thankfully, some San Benito County deputies and their colleagues from Monterey County and the CHP were there, and they are heroes.
It can only be called heroism when for hours you are threatened with death and you remain at the scene, and it can only be called heroism when you climb onto a burning second-story deck to attempt to save the man who threatened to kill you from the fire he himself set.
I don’t know why those deputies took the chances they took. All are family men. I have seen them with their wives and children and I know that they love their families. They couldn’t have been thinking of their wives and kids when they rushed into danger to save the man who might have taken all that away from them. Many I have discussed this with have said that they should have let the gunman die. Maybe they are right, but the deputies and officers in Aromas made a different choice. They risked all they hold dear – life, limb and love – to attempt to save a man who a few moments before may have killed them.
Pundits and lawyers may chime in with their own analysis of the events of that night and maybe even try to steal some of the taxpayers’ treasure. People who hate the police and their country may smirk and speak of conspiracies. I feel sad for those people and proud that I know the peace officers who would save even them. The gunman in Aromas died by his own design and in spite of the valiant efforts of the peace officers on the scene.
Steve Smith is an instructor of Administration of Justice at Gavilan College
