SUPERHEROES NEEDED

I guess like any typical American boy I was fascinated with the idea of having superpowers. Many a safety pin was utilized to its maximum effectiveness holding bath towels together around my neck to serve as capes. In my regular play clothes I was average…mundane...vulnerable. But drape a towel over my back and world watch out!...I was a flying powerhouse. After five years of wearing the corners out of bath towels from poking holes and tying knots I was given the most incredible gift. A superman cape.

I wasn’t just simply pretending to be superman now...It became real. No more make believe for this six year old. There’s only so much you can do with a towel….but with a cape…

Shortly after receiving the cape I convinced my mother to buy me a pair of red fruit of the looms with a yellow band. After that I somehow ended up with a superman logo t-shirt and, to top it all off, a pair of solid yellow knee high tube socks. Now I was fully aware that Superman’s boots were red…but when your six years old and you’ve got it that close…who cares? My costume was complete. Well…at least it was complete enough for me.

I remember one particular Saturday going to my phone booth (closet) to turn myself into Superman. Yellow socks pulled up to my knees to serve as boots…Check. Red underwear with yellow band…Check. Blue T-shirt with Superman emblem on chest tucked into red underwear…Check. Last but certainly not least, cape…Check.

It wasn’t long after dawning myself in my superhero regalia, flying a couple rounds through the house and humming the superman theme tune that I found my first opportunity to rescue a citizen in distress. The problem: Bike accident. The victim: An older neighborhood boy. The villain: Neighbors mailbox

In no time flat I went from looking out the kitchen window to running out the front door; arms outstretched…still humming the superman theme. I was up…up…and away! It was a great feeling. I was a superhero and I was doing what superheros do…save lives. I ran…err…flew over to the boy as fast as I could, bent down and in as mature a voice as I could manage, asked the boy if he was OK.

Now you have to understand that the next set of events is etched into my memory clearer than the events described above. Follow me as I relive it for you…

I’m looking over at this boy who was, to me, a lot older (probably 9 or 10). He hasn’t even looked at me as he is too concerned and focused on his skinned up knee. He’s holding back tears in an effort to be a big boy. As any superhero would…I begin grabbing the boys arm and his ‘good’ leg in an effort to pick him up and take him to the comforting arms of his father…not even taking into consideration that he is at least 25 pounds heavier than myself.

It soon becomes apparent that my picking up the boy is not going to happen so I take a step back to reassess the situation. As I do…to the right…I hear the sound of bicycle peddles and rubber on concrete accompanied by the sound of growing laughter. I’m getting upset. How dare these four bullies laugh at this boy and his bike mishap? What? Oh my goodness! They aren’t laughing at the boy…they’re laughing at me. Even the hurt boy when he finally looks up at me begins to laugh. Why are they laughing? Don’t they know I’m superman?

I WAS Superman…until then. Then it hit me...I saw it. I saw it for the first time. I wasn’t a powerful superhero fighting crime and saving lives. I was outside in my underwear. I ran home. I ran home and I hid. Talk about a humiliating and disappointing slap in the face!

Twenty four years later and I still love helping people. The desire to save lives and be someone’s hero still burns inside. I don’t wear a costume or a cape…but my heart is still in the same place. Through the years I’ve had the opportunity to run to the rescue for the young, the elderly, the orphans, the widows, the incarcerated, and the homeless. I love doing it all but I’m now being faced with the sad realization that I'm no longer as strong as I once imagined I was and I'm quickly losing the power and ability to do any of it. I’m realizing once more that I'm outside in my underwear.

Just looking at me you may think, “He looks healthy enough “. Well, Thank you! But the truth is…It's all a facade. My reality is that my lungs are operating at 14% of their expected capacity. I’m a frail 110 pounds and lately the simplest of tasks have become a struggle.

The simple truth is… I now need a hero.

YOU CAN BE THAT HERO! YOU have the ability to save my life…literally. You can do it in a variety of ways.

FIRST and foremost I need your PRAYERS.

SECOND…Money. The procedure and post transplant medications are very expensive.

THIRD…Fundraisers. Help us with raising funds for the transplant and immuno-suppressant drugs.

FOURTH…Get the word out about my need for a new set of pipes

“A hero is a man (or woman) who does what he can.” – Romain Rolland

God Bless!
Joseph