Faster than a Speeding Bullet. Well, at least faster than the other guy.

In his fifty years on this Earth, my dad has gotten himself into his fair share of unfortunate situations. On occassion, I have been along for the ride.

Last year, he was golfing and he went after a ball that was hit up on a hill. He climbed up, tumbled down. Eight weeks of a hip and leg cast. Not worth the price of one lost golf ball. And there was that time he was waiting in line at a bar and a man thought my dad said something rude about the other man's wife, and he sucker punched my dad and he fell over a railing and busted his face and hand. That was a bummer. Although, I'm not convinced that the man "misunderstood" my dad, it still sucked. That time in Mexico when he tried to cross the street quickly as traffic slowed and then started and the rope that tied two cars together was cinched up and tripped him, leaving him with a broken something or other, now that was just plain embarrassing.

He's a little clumsy and sometimes the chain of events that is his life leave him a bit on the broken side. That is, unless he remembered to wear his superhero suit. If he's in that, he's unstoppable. And that's the story I want to tell today.

The first time I knew my dad was a hero, I was 5. He was 23 and he and his buddies went to the river and were hanging out. Out on the Columbia, a sailboat was drifting along with a bunch of people on board. I don't know how or why, but that sailboat tipped over and everyone was in the water. My dad heard a woman screaming that she lost her baby. My dad ran down the beach and swam out into that fast moving brown water of a river and dove and searched. He didn't know what he was looking for. He saw a white glob in the water and he got an arm under it and he hurled it up. It landed on the tipped sailboat's side. He swam up to it. It was a baby girl, who was only a few months old. She was not breathing. He gave her CPR and she was eventually life-flighted. She survived and did not have any major problems except hearing difficulty. My dad brought her birthday presents for years. My dad swam right to that baby and no one else was anywhere near. He was meant to be there and she was meant to be saved by him.

A few years later, he was at my aunt's house with my cousin, who was 14 at the time. Her father was drunk and acting a fool so they kicked him out. They did not know that he would go to his truck and load a shotgun and drive up to the house and start firing. After the first shot, my dad swiped my cousin out of her seat and then tackled the dog. Bullet holes were found in the wall directly behind where my cousin's head had been and where the dog was.

Through the years, dad has sprung into action on various seniors who are having heart attacks. Six I think. All of them lived. He has come upon serious car accidents and pulled people out of cars. There are more stories that I cannot even remember. It's his status quo.

Dad does not tell me too many details about the things he saw in combat. I have no doubt that he saved people in that way too.

I've seen him beat up a man who punched his kid. He slapped a guy who beat up his girlfriend. He's a bit of a vigilante in some ways. Not entirely heroic, and probably didn't change either man at all, but the point is that my dad is emotional and when he reacts...he's a locomotive.

But today was another day that my dad sprung to action and had his superhero outfit on under his clothes. He was taking the train to go to his classes for addiction, and as was getting off the train he heard a woman scream. He went towards the scream and a woman had just been attacked by a man. The man was running away. My dad has a leg in recovery and he can barely bend it. (see above golf-ball recovery incident) My dad gave chase. He caught the dude at Starbucks. The dude feigned ignorance and played a good victim as my dad took him down with some super-hero moves and roughed him up a bit. Dad called 911 while holding the man down. I would love to hear that. I can hear my dad now...I'm sure it was something along the lines of "Don't you even f8cking move mother fucker or I will kill your sorry ass". I know this, since that is how he talks when he is riled up. Anyway, dude turns out to be a repeat offender and no one else intervened. That dude is in jail and my dad saves the day again!

See, this is why I think men should be tough. This is how I know the world. Not that I have always agreed with my father's superhero ways. I mean, when he climbed the Convention Center spires when it was being built, all 600 and something feet I think, that was not smart. I think my dad can still splat. (see above golf-ball recovery incident) Or that time when he whacked a rattlesnake to death with a 3-Iron because there were too many kids in the area. Maybe not necessary. And those crazy hikes....I mean, who takes a 9 year old on a 26 mile hike? Or a visiting guest on a hike up a mountain in 110 degree heat? He forgets that not all of us are made of the same stuff.

Anyway, he's my hero for a lot of reasons. Not just this literal stuff either. When he has been there for me and my family at any time and devoted all of his life to me, that is something I can't measure or fairly describe. He's a good samaritan. He checks on old people, he mows their lawns, he helps them in ways he probably can't even do himself. He's survived a lot. He has his own struggles. But he makes me proud to be his daughter and I hope to be half as good-hearted, selfless and brave as he is.