Today, I’m thankful for those who rise up in times of crisis, whether on land or at sea.
In Greek mythology, the Olympian gods who ruled the Earth also provided some solace to us mortals from the inevitable ills of the world. For those who inhabited Greece, a small, arid peninsula surrounded on three sides by the Aegean, Mediterranean, and Adriatic Seas, the water became an obvious source of food, commerce, and travel. So, naturally, in an effort to ensure safekeeping while navigating these rough waters, the Greeks would seek sanctuary in the Protectorate of the Seas – the invincible Poseidon. As we learned in Homer’s elegant poem The Iliad, Poseidon and his two brothers, Zeus and Hades, drew straws on how they would best divide the Earth after they successfully defeated the Titans. Poseidon drew the rights to all the oceans – a role he relished with confidence, might, and bravado. Underneath the hydrosphere where he resided, he could often be found wielding his three-pronged trident in his massive palace adorned with corals and gems. When he occasionally ventured to the water’s surface, he could be found galivanting in an elaborate chariot pulled by several muscular stallions. Yet, despite all his power, Poseidon also possessed a moody temperament subject to fits of rage, mistrust, and jealousy. If ever he felt slighted (which was often the case), he would angrily pound his trident into the ground, thereby unleashing a mighty earthquake that would reverberate with precarious storms and massive waves across all the seas. So, naturally, Greek sailors offered their piety and respect to Poseidon in an effort to ensure safe passage over these troubled waters.
But, even after the Greek empire fell into ruin, and with that the belief in the mythology of the Olympian gods, humans would still seek solace in their travels over the oceans. The rise of Christianity and the belief in a monotheistic God, still left sufficient room for patron saints to serve as protectorates of those who felt at risk. In Greek Orthodoxy, this ‘guardian’ role is reserved for St. Nicholas of Myra – an amazing philanthropic humanitarian whose story I will return to in a few weeks’ time. In the Roman Catholic faith, a similar role is reserved for St. Erasmus of Formia – an individual more conveniently known as St. Elmo (mostly famously known for his Fire). Finally, among Irish Catholics, the venerable St. Brendan of Clonfert assumes this title as the Chief Advocate of Seafarers. Yet, for those seeking a more secular slant, we hold up certain exemplars on the high waters. Today, I’d like to introduce you to two of those individuals, whose true-life stories of bravery on the high seas when each was just 22 years of age, are rarely told, but who fittingly deserve the ardent respect of us all.
Let’s start with Grace Darling. Born on this day (Nov 24) in 1815, Grace lived a simple life as one of 9 children born to parents who cared for lighthouses in the Farne Islands, several miles off the coast of Northumberland in Northeastern England. When Grace was just 11, her family moved to serve as the protectorate of the newly-built lighthouse on Longstone Island. Life on the island was simple but arduous for Grace and her siblings, but she quickly developed a love and admiration for the rocky seas. She learned to navigate the rough waters surrounding the Farne Islands in rowing boats. One early morning in September 1938, she awoke early at 4:45 to find the waves beating violently against the rocks upon which the lighthouse resided. As she peered out the window from her upstairs bedroom, she noticed that a steamship known as the Forfashire had crashed down onto Big Harcar rock, essentially severing the vessel into two. As the light materialized with the rising sun, she also noticed several survivors clinging onto the rock, desperately trying to survive. Immediately alerting her father William, the two realized that the conditions at sea were so precarious that lifeboats from the nearby larger North Sunderland Island were not likely to launch. So, without further delay, they leapt into a 21-foot, wooden rowboat – a 4-man Northumberland coble – each grabbing one oar. Over the next hour, they navigated against the treacherous waves for nearly a mile before they reached the rock. Once there, William hopped out to assist the survivors, while Grace magically commandeered the small boat on her own – rowing backwards and forward in alternating motion to avoid smashing into the reef. They rescued 5 individuals and brought them back to the lighthouse for safekeeping. When story broke that a 22-year old woman was involved in a daring rescue on the high seas, Grace and her father were lauded as national heroes, even garnering Gold Medals from the Royale Humane Society and Silver Medals for Gallantry from the Royal National Institution. As newspaper writers flocked to the lighthouse to pen the tale of Grace’s valor, her fame grew to the point that this young celebrity could no longer travel abroad without being recognized as an English hero. Monies and gift poured into the lighthouse, including a letter of gratitude and a 50-pound note from Queen Victoria. Unfortunately, a few years later, while still in her mid twenties, Grace Darling begin to develop a bloody cough and suffer from anorexia. Later that year, she passed away from tuberculosis. Immediately following her death, a poem by William Wordsworth would immortalize Grace for her fortitude and bravery. A hotel bearing her name still stands in Melbourne, Australia, and a small coastal museum is dedicated to her bravery.
Almost exactly a century later, another unsuspecting naval hero would perform an early morning daring act aboard a ship in Pearl Harbor, Hawaii. Doris ‘Dorrie’ Miller was born to destitute parents in Waco, Texas. At 6’3” in height and a weight of more than 200 pounds, he naturally became the star fullback at A.J. Moore High School; however, as he was never was much of a student, he dropped out of school at the age of 18. Looking for direction in his life, he enlisted in the Navy in 1939, at the age of 20, where he eventually found himself as a crewman serving meals aboard the West Virginia in Pearl Harbor. Shortly before 8 AM on December 7, 1941, alarms on the West Virginia went off when a torpedo from a Japanese aircraft carrier pierced the side of the ship. Despite his culinary role, Doris ran to the central spot on the ship, reporting for active duty. At the command of one of the lieutenants, Doris made way to the ship‘s bridge where one of the large anti-aircraft machine guns was situated. Before the lieutenant could issue another order, the 22-year-old Doris grabbed control of the gun and began firing into the sky. After he ran out of ammunition, he carried several injured soldiers through the thick smoke, oil, and water to the quarterdeck, saving their lives before the West Virginia sank to the bottom of the harbor. For his resolve and bravery in the midst of chaos, the Navy released a list of commendations – on that list, Doris was not formally recognized but the valiant efforts of an unnamed African American chef were described. Eventually, the world would come to realize that the person behind that nonspecific description was none other than Doris Miller, and, in due time, he became recognized as one the ‘first US heroes of World War II.’ For his courageous act, Admiral Chester Nimitz would issue the Naval Cross to Doris. Sadly, a few years later on this exact day (Nov 24) in 1943, Doris was killed when a torpedo struck the side of his ship, Liscome Bay, in the Battle of Makin. Earlier this year, the US Navy announced that the future aircraft carrier CVN-81 would be named in his honor as the USS Doris Miller.
They say heroes reveal themselves in a crisis. As we learn today from the gallant acts of Grace Darling and Doris Miller, one does not even need to harbor the superhuman strength of some immortal god to rise up in the face of turmoil. Today, I salute these less-known individuals – two, true Poseidons of the sea – for reminding us what a hero really looks like.
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