Who impressed you the most?

[Riverwind (imported)]

Going back to your youth, through age 22 had the most influence on your life?

Most would think of a teacher but mine was a guy I was in the service with, Joe was on his second hitch and was still an E3, he was a fuck up, plan and simple, but he was a speed reader, he came into the office one Monday morning and said "I read the best book this weekend, Hawaii, took me 6 hours". If any of you have ever read Hawaii or seen the book its about 2 inches thick. He said the same thing about War and Peace, which he read in one sitting 8 hours. As I said he was a speed reader, me I am dyslexic so reading has always been hard for me, and I read every single word, I am still that way only today I do read much faster but by all standards I am still a slow reader.

So Joe says to me "River, you should read Hawaii, you will like it"

NO way Joe, its to big, to hard, to long, its just to and I don't like to read.

After several weeks of hounding me and telling me I was not good enough to do it, the gauntlet was thrown.

There was two things in school I know were the dumbest things I had to learn, typing was one, Boys don't need to type and besides only secretaries did that. Second, reading was not only hard but boring.

I bought a copy of Hawaii and started reading, the next day I bitched at Joe because the book was to hard to read, the guy Mitchener just used to many big words, I would read entire paragraphs and not have a clue what he was talking about.

Joe, being the kind person he was said, 'Have you ever heard of a dictionary, dummy'.

So for the next several weeks I read Hawaii every night looking up it seemed two or three words every paragraph, but I was not going to let him win. I was now determined that I would read this damn book then well you get the idea.

It took me about 8 months to read Hawaii, I did notice one thing that after about 200 pages I rarely had to look up a word, I had guessed he just stopped using them as the book got going.

When I finished it I told JOE, and he smiled and said, read it again.

WHAT

He said 'You had so much trouble with it at the first you should go read it again, tell me about it tomorrow.'

I was so pissed at him but that night I started it over and realized why he told me to read it again, I knew all the words, did not need to look any up. Then realized how much I enjoyed it.

Never a day goes by when I am not reading something, I always have a book going.

And for the two things I hated the most, reading and typing, I spent my working life sitting at a key board typing, writing technical manuals and instructions for programmers, that's what you do that when your a system analysts.

Thanks Joe where ever you are,

River

[punkypink (imported)]

I know a man. He is well known in certain areas of the world, certain circles. He has been fighting in one war or another since his early 20s, but his most notable exploits to date was in Sierra Leone in 2000, when he was hired by the SL government to fly their sole helicopter gunship. He flew long hours everyday, often up to 3 sorties a day, without a full flight crew or any of the sort of logistical support most proper militaries would have supplied a helicopter wing. In Sierra Leone, him, 2 gunners and that helicopter WERE the entire air wing. Ammo was always in short supply, spare parts were always in short supply, yet they managed to keep that helicopter functional, and with a superhuman effort he single-handedly held off the rebels from Freetown. It was a grim war, many of the rebels were often off their heads on whatever bush alcohol and drugs there were. What you guys saw in the newspapers about rebel brutality were just the tip of the ice berg. Attrocities by the rebels would happen while UN soldiers looked on without lifting a finger barely 50 meters away. In fact some UN soldiers were known to be supplying rebel groups like the West Side Boys, in order to stay on their good side. It was this one man, day in, day out, who for over a year continued to hold off the rebels from taking over the capital and the entire country, who saved goodness-knows how many millions of lives from the slaughter the rebels were engaging in, and how many millions more from having their arms, legs, hands, feet, chopped off for the amusement of some drugged up savages.

What is even more remarkable? The Sierra Leone government stopped paying this man early on. He stayed on to fight the fight simply because he was given a job, where to fail would have meant hell on earth for countless millions, and like a good soldier, he did his job. Day in day out, risking life and limb. The rebels tried their best to down his copter. They set up traps. He'd coolly fly into the traps to deal the rebels blow after blow, to send a message: I am good enough to survive your traps and I will beat you. Heavy ordanance of all sorts, for over a year. It was a miracle that he was never once shot down. And a good thing too, because if he'd been shot down, they would show no quarter, take no prisoners. They would have killed and eaten him. Such was the fate of another guy(Bob McKenzie) who was fighting in Africa.

Today he still flies, but has an easier time flying oil rig flights, transport flights in A-stan, and I hope he never has to fight again. To say he's the one who's impressed me most does not even accurately reflect the scale of respect I have for this man. And, you'd think that someone like that would be a big shot, no time for random people who contacts him, but no... he is such a humble fella, which is perhaps one of the traits I was most impressed by. I sought him out and made contact, expecting not to get a reply, but not only did he reply, we'd carried on conversations. I say hi now and then to him whenever he gets a moment on the internet to catch up on what he's doing(last we spoke he was going camping in Lesotho in Jan) and I will buy him a pint should he ever stops by London.

His name? Neall Ellis.

[kristoff]

There are too many people who were important and impressive in their own rights to pick just one. The most dramatic was Henry, a professor of psychology that I had glommed onto, though I never took a class from him. He had at the age of 45 or so lost his right leg to clotting issues and gangrene. After the leg was removed and healed, and he was outfitted with a prosthetic leg, he took up Jui Jitsu as rehab. He reached a very capable black belt level.

I was whining one day about the difficult time I was having with my dissertation. He was chiding me about the difficulty of a slum boy from St Louis who had made it good, and mr privileged white boy could do it too (as though I were privileged, I was just white... that's another thing altogether). When I kept bitching, he dropped his pants, took his leg off right there in his office, threw it at me, and yelled come on boy, I'm gonna kick some sense into you while I kick your ass.

After the shock of that scene, ludicrous as it was, I quit bitching, buckled down, finished my dissertation, and invited him to sit in on my committee. He did. He is still a good friend to this day. More I could say about this important man, but this is enough - he always had a way of driving home an important point.

[Slammr (imported)]

Years ago, back in the days of dial-up and Prodigy (an early Internet service), I met a fourteen year-old boy on line. Another fourteen year-old boy, who I knew from Portland, was visiting me in Medford, where I lived at that time. During his visit, he became paralyzed and I had to take him to the Emergency room. A genetic defect caused bleeding into his spinal column, but as he called me his second father, I was concerned for him. In trying to deal with it and to learn more about quadriplegics, which he now was, I asked questions on the message boards on Prodigy. That's where I met Roger.

Roger was born with severe cerebral palsy. Unable to talk, he communicated by tapping out messages with a mouth stick, and had been communicating that way since he was two years-old. We had long conversations about my friend and about other things. Roger wrote poetry and we talked about that. He got me interested in writing. Many of the messages he sent me took him as much as four hours to type with his mouth stick, and he regularly made posts on Prodigy. Never, in any of them, did I detect any self pity, and it was from others, a cousin of his for instance, that I found out how sick he was. More than once he had been in the hospital in a coma. No one expected Roger to grow up.

The last message I had from him was, "I'm going into the hospital for a while, but I'll be OK."

He didn't come home from the hospital that time.

Roger was adopted. His parents had adopted him knowing how severely disabled he was and knowing he would never grow up. He was the second such child they had adopted. His older brother had already died when I knew Roger. His father, a double amputee, had no legs.

Roger lived in Florida and I was in Oregon, so I never met him. When I told him I'd like to have a picture of him, he said, "You don't want a picture of me. I'm one ugly quad." (quadriplegic)

I disagree. Roger was beautiful, and although only fourteen, he was the most impressive person I've ever known. Years ago, on a visit by our Jesus to Portland, I told him about Roger. Telling the story made me cry. In telling it today, I have tears running down my face.

[Sweetpickle (imported)]

I had an uncle who had reumatoid arthritis. He got it when he was fairly young, 30's maybe.

He was a smart guy, married well, and made plenty of money. He never let the RA get him down.

He had special shoes made to match his mis-shapen feet, so he could walk well. He had giant handles

installed on his golf clubs so he could play golf. He had more artificial joints than anyone I have

ever heard of, and some like finger joints that I never imagined. The thing that impressed me so was

that in spite of his difficulties he never gave up on life. I have long found him an inspiration, and

I told him that.

[Cainanite (imported)]

My grandfather was a huge influence on me.

He was a tiny little guy, just over 5 foot tall. He served during WWII as demolitions and reconnaissance (front line guy). His job with his unit was to go in where the army was supposed to go before they got there. Identify where enemy troops were, blow up bridges, etcetera.

He was shot in the ankle. Took a mortar fragment to the shoulder, but kept going back to the front lines. Twice he was offered an honorable discharge, and twice he turned it down.

He was not a quitter.

Back on home soil, he became a rail boss for the CN railway. Despite being tiny he earned the name "Popeye" because, despite appearances, he was stronger and more capable than guys three times his size.

He had a motto he lived by. I don't think he got it from anywhere, he just knew it instinctively. "There is strength, and there is determination, but determination will always trump strength."

When he decided to quit drinking, he just quit. He never drank another drop. When he wanted to quit smoking, he just quit. He never smoked again. No matter what he set his mind to, he simply did it.

He died of bone cancer when I was twenty-one. We learned after he died that he had suffered from incredible pain for years before he finally succumbed. You'd never have known it. He just marched on with his life. He went out every day. He founded charities, he managed more in a single day in his eighties, than I can accomplish in my thirties. He continued to be completely self sufficient up until only just a few weeks before his death.

I've never known another man with such strength of spirit. In my darkest hours I think, "What would my grandfather do?" When I feel like quitting, I remind myself to go on. That I can power through if I am determined enough.

"Determination trumps Strength." He was able to live that in a way I am still struggling to understand. I wish I could be half the man he was.

Of anyone, my grandfather was the biggest influence on me. I hope one day I can look back and be worthy of his legacy.

[punkypink (imported)]

he dropped his pants, took his leg off right there in his office, threw it at me, and yelled come on boy, I'm gonna kick some sense into you while I kick your ass.

that... is just ACE. xD

[raymar2020 (imported)]

I came out in 1973 while in high school, not likely the smartest move in a very catholic suburb of the cradle of catholisism in America. To put it mildly, it created some unpleasant issues. Many of my "friends" simply wrote me off, and some even joined the ranks of the haters, and teasers.

Not Stephen. He and I had become very close friends the summer between 5th and 6th grade, and he was thin bookish, wore glasses, and in a time when it was NOT flattering was a nerd. We traveled to school on the same bus, and not once did he shy away from talking with me, or spending time with me. He stood up for me against the bullies, when they threatened me. He stood by me, and we remained friends. Once we started driving, we took turns driving to school, and did lots of things together. He was and is a true friend.

After high school we slowly drifted apart as we went separate directions in education, and life. When he was ready to get married though , he found me, and wanted me to be there. We re-kindled our friendship, and in just a few hours it was as if the 10 year gap in seeing each other had never existed. His wife soon became one of my favorite people.

There has never been any type of judgement between us, and while we don't see each other every week, we communicate regularly, and get together as often as busy schedules allow.

Way back when, it would have been so much easier to throw in with the haters, and even improve his own standing in the student body, he chose to be true to our friendship, even if it pitted him against the haters too. That has always impressed me, and I place great value on his friendship.

[Arab Nights (imported)]

Good question. The posts are about individuals who set a good model. I especially like Cainanite's answer. There is something about a quiet competence and seriousness that just trounces all the loud and crude attempts at humor.

The question is about who had the most influence. I am going to take a different angle than individuals who are great role models. I want to praise the people who are not so much models, but who cross your life at the precise moments of change and help you make that change. I have had several like that.

The last great example was in early 2009 when the whole world economy was going down the shitter. I actually went in to the local college counselor and laid out my situation: age 62, professional, etc. He told me that he had roommates in my profession and understood that it was real a roller coaster. He told me that if I followed all the online advice to become a medical this or that, it would take two years to complete that training. In two years I would be out and telling some poor schmuck standing in front of me to cough and my cell phone would ring. It would be someone who wanted me to go see something in Inner Colononia. I will want to go because I have never been to Inner Colononia. He told me to prepare for that call. So I took Work, PowerPoint and Excel courses. I never got to semester 2. The phone started ringing exactly when I finished one semester. I ended up with a pretty good skill set for writing reports for financial markets on resource projects and that is keeping me working 80 hours a week now.

There have been others.

I would just like to acknowledge those people who have influenced my life by appearing at the right moment with the right opportunity or the right recommendation.

[A-1 (imported)]

My wife... 'nuff said...