Courage, Like All of Life, is Non-Linear

Sir Lewis Hamilton, 7-time Formula 1 World Champion

Courage, like so much of life, is non-linear.  Lewis Hamilton has won more races than any driver in the history of the Formula 1 World Championship. Several times in his 15-year career he has had crashes that shredded and splintered his 1100-pound arrow shaped car at speeds well above 100mph.  Most recently his title rival, Max Verstappen, caused a crash that end with with Verstappen's car on top of Hamilton's car. 

After every crash, Hamilton was back in the car the next week, racing at speeds over 200mph into corners with 5-g side loads. 

But Hamilton is very afraid of spiders.  Very afraid. 

In this month's cover story in Vanity Fair magazine about Hamilton, he tells the interviewer that during the race each year in Australia, he insists on a high floor in the hotel, to make extra sure no big Australian spiders are in his room.  Hamilton says he watched the movie Arachnophobia as a child and has been afraid of spiders ever since.  

All of us are complex accumulations of genetics, experience, motives and attitudes so there should be nothing surprising that a person who is very brave in one situation is afraid in another.  And yet, that ideal of the Medieval Knight says the brave person should be afraid of nothing. It lingers in our imaginations.

My Dad was a boxer. He wasn't afraid of facing another man and fighting with his fists. His last fight was in a warehouse with a 30-year-old truck driver who took a swing at him. Dad was 62 years old. He knocked the younger man out.  Yet Dad was afraid of doctors and hospitals.  I lost every fist fight I was in and love hosptials.

Recently, I was talking to a friend about his recent trip to several countries in Europe.  He had a seven-hour layover in Helsinki and decided to go and see the city.  

I could never do that. Ride the Alps and Pyrenees and hills in Israel above 50mph on descents--awesome.  Leave the airport and have to pass back through security and customs?  Not me. I would be worried the moment I left the security area. 

Riding across Paris in traffic is pure excitement. I don't imagine what could go wrong.  But dealing with bureaucracy, I can't easily imagine things going right. 

Is it years in the Army that makes me distrust bureaucracy? I don't know.  Nothing in my childhood could have done it.  Until I flew to Basic training at 18 years old, I had never been in an airplane.  Our family never traveled further from Boston that a couple of trips to Cleveland, Ohio. 

On the other hand, I have a fear of needles that is physical and deep. I don't look at needles when I get IVs and blood drawn. But that fear is straight out of childhood.  In the basement of our home was this horrible torture device.

Vintage Singer Sewing Machine and Terror Device

One day, I was alone in the basement and stepped on the treadle of this terrifying machine, got the wheel spinning fast then (I have no idea why) slid the first finger of my five-year-old right hand into the path of that needle.  I screamed. So when my guts tighten up for a routine blood draw, I know where it comes from.  

I walked to my most recent bone-repair surgery feeling really happy. I was going to see old friends who had treated me before.  And walked home just as happy.  But I did not look at the needles during my stay the hospital.

A Brave Woman in Trumplandia

 

This morning I was riding east from Lancaster toward New Holland borough, one of the towns that ring the city of Lancaster.  As I rode I passed several political signs, all of them were for Doug Mastriano, the Army officer who brought busloads of Pennsylvanians to Washington DC on January 6, 2020, to overthrow the government.

Then I saw the sign above.  I first thought 'Oh, they have a 2024 sign.'  Then I wondered why it had a hyphen.  Then I saw the "years in prison." I turned around to take a picture of the sign.  When I did, the woman who put the sign in the middle of her front yard on the south side of Pennsylvania Route 23, walked up and introduced herself.

Tracy is a smiling, blue-eyed, pretty woman in her mid-thirties.  She was trimming the shrubs next to her house when I pulled up. I asked her about the sign. She said, "I can't just stay quiet."  

Tracy said she knew it would cause trouble, but she thought it was important to stand up and say what is right.  She has one child, a 13-year-old son.  She knows her family and the house could be targets for insults or egging or something worse.  

She said that a lot of people honk. Some wave and cheer, some make their disagreement well known.  Three miles west of her house is The Worship Center, a prosperity gospel church of the kind that are the most likely to believe Trump was chosen by God to make America a Christian nation. Lots of true believers pass by Tracy's home.  

I love meeting people who are truly brave and are willing to stand up for what they believe in a very public way. I have met people who are true heroes and I met another hero today. 

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(I would not post a picture of Tracy or her home. Whatever trouble she brings on herself, I did not want to add to it.)

Courage and Fear: Weapons for Wives

Five years ago I was eating lunch in the Aviation Armory at Fort Indiantown Gap.  I sat with a Blackhawk helicopter pilot and a Chinook helicopter flight engineer.  Both are Iraq veterans who flew many combat missions. Both are tall, strong men who regularly scored the maximum on the physical fitness test and were very good at their respective jobs.

They both live in rural Central Pennsylvania. The topic of conversation when I sat down was rapid opening cases for automatic pistols.  They were discussing the relative merits of biometric locks versus RFID locks. They were talking about the relative merits of the gun case each had put in their bedroom for themselves and also for their wives while they are away from home.

Both men own more than 20 guns which they keep locked in elaborate gun safes.  But the pistol case was for immediate access in case of a home invasion.  Neither man wanted his young children to have any access to the guns, but did want to be ready to defend their homes and for their wives to have access to the gun in a moment.

 So I asked, "Have you or your family ever been threatened or your home robbed?"

Both answered No.

They kept talking about gun cases and their wives proficiency with weapons. Neither of the wives seemed very interested from what I could gather.

Courage in one area does not displace fear in another.  Both of these men happily went to war.  One of them deployed twice, the other at least three times to both Iraq and Afghanistan.  But they genuinely believe their isolated, rural homes west of the Susquehanna in the middle of Pennsylvania must be defended with high-tech weaponry.  By their own admission, they are defending themselves and their homes from a threat that they have never seen or experienced in their lives.

Courage and Fear: My Father on Fist Fights and Doctors

The ideal of the courageous person is one who can and will face any threat and pain in any situation with equal grace. That ideal person could go to war, find out they have cancer, or get a root canal with equal and undisturbed equanimity. Senator John Glenn and Major Richard Winters seem the closest to the ideal of hero who is brave in every circumstance.

But most real people don't work that way.

My father was a professional boxer.  Every time he stepped into the ring, he knew he was going to be hurt.  But he climbed between the ropes, raised his hands and got punched by another guy who could hit--hard.  The courage that got him in the ring led him to enlist in the Army and serve through and after World War II.

But he was afraid of doctors and hospitals.  His fear was partly inherited from his Russian-Jewish immigrant parents. For a Jew to enter a Russian hospital in the 19th Century meant they had the most dire illness.

Dad lost that fear of doctors in the last decade of his life when doctors and hospitals became a regular and familiar part of his world. He had a brain tumor removed when he was 66. During the next decade he had colon cancer and related problems, then the kidney cancer that finally took his life at 77. In that last decade of his life he faced surgery and recovery again and again.

On the other hand, there are certainly people who are afraid of nearly everything. Some people are hypochondriac, agoraphobic or so swallowed by fear that they can barely function.  The characters Woody Allen plays are close to the inverse of John Glenn and Dick Winters.

To re-cast a nerd joke:  Courage is non-linear, so is fear.