On Heroes

In 2007, I wrote the dedication below to my grandfather, my hero, and read it at his funeral in January of that year. It’s about my grandfather, but also about heroes in general and why even when heroes make mistakes that they are still heroic. I pulled it out of my files on the occasion of Secretary and General Colin Powell’s passing because of the attention paid to the blot on General Powell’s otherwise impeccable record. General Powell was nearly as much of a hero for me as my grandfather. He had a deep impact on me in my formative years as a young U.S. Army officer.

In my personal and professional lives, I have tried to follow General Powell’s thirteen rules of leadership. Like General Powell, the military was a place where I found structure and purpose and where class and wealth did no matter. As I have since my grandfather’s passing, I feel a duty to continue honoring the spirt and lessons of my two greatest heroes in life.


January 22, 2007

            Nearly 17 years ago, I wore this same uniform as I embarked on a rewarding chapter of my life in the U.S. Army.  On that day in May of 1990 at Zais Hall, my grandfather honored me by administering the oath that officially brought me into the ranks of the officer corps.  It was a proud moment for both of us.  He hadn’t put on the uniform in many years and was relieved and excited to find that it still fit.  I’m having that same experience today – it’s been 11 years.  That ceremony in 1990 was one of only two times I ever witnessed my grandfather crying.  I stand here today to honor him as he did me that windy day at UNH.

            It will come as no surprise to many of you when I say that my grandfather is my hero.  I’ve wanted to be like him for as long as I can remember.  Just before coming to New Hampshire on this solemn occasion, I re-read a school paper I wrote my freshman year at UNH.  It very clearly [and emphatically] stated my desire to be just like him.  Reading it made me cry because it was a reminder that the notion of wanting to be just like my granddad wasn’t some idea I had cooked up in adulthood.  In several ways, I have followed in my grandfather’s footsteps and my personality has been tremendously shaped by his influence.  I don’t recall that I ever told my grandfather that he was my hero, but I think he knew it.  Nothing has changed since those early days in New Castle.  What has changed over time is my definition of the word “hero”.

            As heroes usually are, my grandfather was larger than life; especially so when I was a young boy.  It’s hard for anyone to debate Douglas Woodward’s impressive resume of life experiences.  A jack of many trades and master of quite a few.  He was no intellectual slouch.  He was even, as he fondly liked to say of other old and crusty New Englanders … a little bit “salty”.  He had what is called in the study of leadership – “presence”.  Those I would meet in the seacoast area always had a high opinion of my grandfather.  He was above all else a man of honor and principles.  From him I learned – always do the right thing and don’t take shortcuts.  He occupied a higher plain from my young-eyed perspective.

            As I got older, I got to know the person.  I got to know the man.  I got to know that he was human and that he even had flaws.  That kind of information had to be processed against my image of him as the infallible hero.  It was a process that took several years as I got to know him better man to man.  In the end, my grandfather is still my hero.  He never stopped being my hero and he never stopped being anything other than himself.

            If you don’t have a hero in your life, then here’s some advice – it’s a 360 degree circular path to finding one and keeping him or her in hero status.  At zero degrees of the circle is the easy part … viewing your hero in the bubble of infallible greatness.  Enjoy that part for 179 degrees.  At 180 degrees of the circle is the hard part that may shake your desire to hold on to your hero – the realization that he or she is human like the rest of us.  You’ll stay there for another 179 degrees as you figure out what to do with the new understanding of your hero’s very human nature.  At 360 degrees your hero will be back on top.  By 360 degrees, you will find that your hero is even more heroic.  You will believe that your hero is as great now as he or she was at zero degrees, despite [and because of] the reality check that happened at 180.  I will miss my grandfather and I just wanted to tell you that he is my hero.  I hope each of you find one just like him.

Scott Woodward