American Spirit Read online

  Dedication

  Dedicated to our children,

  and to all people who use their lives, liberty, and freedom to love their neighbors and lift others up.

  You make this country a place we love living in.

  Contents

  Cover

  Title Page

  Dedication

  Introduction: Hoping The Pioneer Spirit Lives On

  One: Growing a Future Our Kids as the Future

  Trick, Treat, Triumph

  When Life Gave Him Cancer, He Made Lemonade

  Toward a Sweetish Cure

  The “Sweet Feet” Girls

  Everyone Deserves a Family

  Not Abandoned

  Two: Getting Them There Movers and Shakers

  Soaring for Others

  Bound for Glory—and Service

  The Easy Way Kills You

  High Risk, Higher Reward

  Three: To Help Others Being Different

  Getting Past Barriers

  The Blind Bikers of Central Park

  You Belong Here

  Flipping the Pig

  Called to Be a Hero

  Four: Moving Past Grief Beyond Our Burdens

  Finding Meaning in Loss

  Don’t Be Inspired; Be Exceptional

  Helping Families Recover

  Five: A Roof Over Their Heads Giving Shelter

  Little Houses, Big Hearts

  Get Up, Suit Up, Show Up

  He’s so Fly

  Six: Giving Back What Do We Owe?

  Partying for Hope

  MVP at Giving Dysphagia

  Tie One on for a Cause

  Bad-ass with a Heart of Gold

  Summer Song

  Junking for Joy

  Seven: Honor, Memory, and Angels Precious Resources

  Honor and Heal

  Perseverance and Remembrance

  For Kids and Country

  Mr. Perseverance

  Eight: Belief Matters of Faith

  Lead with Love

  Out of the Fire

  Nine: Spirit’s Wings Without Boundaries

  Into Satan’s Lair

  Pioneer Abroad

  Ten: CKFF My Motto and Goal

  Acknowledgments

  About the Authors

  Also by Taya Kyle and Jim DeFelice

  Copyright

  About the Publisher

  Introduction

  Hoping

  The Pioneer Spirit Lives On

  The pioneer spirit built America. The first European settlers forged new trails in the hills, swamps, and forests of the East, then onward into the mountains, across the plains, through the desert and high passes, to the West Coast. They plowed virgin earth, hardscrabble as well as fertile, raised crops, and learned to live with sometimes helpful, sometimes hostile neighbors. They did not always do it with grace, and there is much we regret in retrospect—the treatment of natives and people from Africa, most especially—yet the communities and nation they created were, in the end, one of history’s great achievements.

  The pioneers sacrificed and endured incredible hardship, not so much for themselves but for the next generations—for others far more than for themselves.

  It is tempting today to say that spirit—the American Spirit, if you will—has passed on. Many people complain about the present state of our country. They cite social conflict, economic hardship, and stagnant opportunity as examples of how far we have fallen. Political discord, religious intolerance, prejudice, hypocrisy—the list of failures, barriers, and even evils seems endless.

  There is much to that. Sometimes I, too, feel our country and the world at large are a nest of chaos and that the laws of physics dictate it can only get worse. Entropy and indeed disaster are inevitable.

  And yet . . .

  On a day when I am at my absolute lowest, a random person in a checkout line smiles at me and offers to let me go ahead of them in a long line. I hear a story about a friend’s child who gave a year’s worth of her allowance to a homeless shelter. A friend returns from a mission trip to Africa, brimming with stories about digging a well that brought fresh running water to a village whose inhabitants once walked five miles to a polluted stream each morning.

  Maybe I am just a die-hard optimist—guilty, surely—but I didn’t start that way. I came to this outlook out of necessity to combat the pain of the world. These stories fill me with hope and inspiration. So, too, do tales of heroism, not just on the battlefield, where it’s expected, but in big cities and small towns: neighbors rushing past flames to retrieve sleeping babies, ten-year-olds standing up to bullies picking on newcomers in class. Random acts of everyday kindness: a young man shoveling an elderly neighbor’s driveway after a snowstorm, a retired gentleman cutting the lawn for the pregnant wife of a deployed serviceman—all of these things fill me with hope.

  I see them as signs of community. Minor sacrifices, maybe, yet affirmations that the same core values and the same selfless impulses that helped build this country are not gone or even dormant.

  We are bombarded with negative stories because, frankly, they sell. Maybe it’s part of a survival mechanism to see the worst, so we can prepare for it and learn to avoid it in our own lives.

  That’s not me. I hate other people’s pain. I find my day inevitably brightened when I hear about such things on a grand scale—the husband and wife who, after losing a daughter, began a foundation to help children with the same disease. I feel a tingle, and even a sense of satisfaction, when I read a story about someone famous and busy who, for altruistic reasons, gave her time to visit with wounded soldiers or went out of her way to make sure an elderly stranger had a warm meal that day.

  Am I wrong to think that these things are a sign of hope for the future? Should I suppress the sense of joy that comes when I see a ripple effect of everyday kindness: the town that got involved after a single child raised money for a food pantry, the national organization that was inspired by a local businessman’s pledge to help his neighborhood?

  I don’t think so.

  I have had the privilege of traveling across America and meeting many people in the years since my husband, Chris, was cruelly murdered by a man he was trying to help. So many people have offered me comfort—and, more than that, they have told me stories about the good things their neighbors are doing, accounts of how they were helped or inspired by others. Each has a different perspective: Some point to God’s hand in our daily lives; others talk about innate human kindness. Some talk of miracles. Others see a complicated logic of cause and effect.

  All, I think, are testimony of the best America has to offer: her American Spirit. It’s still alive. We may not see it on television or read about it on the internet. But that’s our individual shortcoming, not the failure of God, or Nature, or mankind. Chaos surely is present—but if the same fearful laws of physics tell us that for every action there is an opposite and equal reaction, surely there are opposing forces fighting to establish a better balance and a better future.

  I acknowledge the propensity of man for evil. I believe it is the only way to truly appreciate the good. I believe we can fight evil with goodness in order to prevent chaos from consuming us. I think there is good in everyone, literally everyone, but it is up to them to access it.

  Shining a light in the darkness produces more light. It ripples, and in so doing, it multiplies its effect through our communities, our nation, and the world in general.

  It doesn’t happen on its own, but it doesn’t require much to start a ripple. We simply need to pay attention and take action. As the ripple grows, there will be small and large sacrifices. There also must be thought, planning, and spontaneity as well. It takes leadership, even if those who are called to be leaders don’t realize tha
t’s the role they’ve taken on.

  Focusing on the beauty rather than the ashes in life warrants celebration, a highlighting of the efforts to brighten a sometimes very dark world.

  That’s why my friend and collaborator Jim DeFelice and I are writing this book. Over our time traveling and just living, we, both of us reformed skeptics and cynics, have spent more than a year meeting and talking to different people who have shined a light in the darkness. Many of these people have overcome tremendous handicaps or suffered great losses. Many have been blessed with an uncomplicated, rich life. Some have lucked into success; others have had worldly success denied in the harshest ways. But all have drawn on the best of themselves and in turn encouraged the American Spirit in others.

  The people and organizations you’ll meet in this book are, we hope, a cross section of America. A few are famous, a few are very young, many are wise, but they don’t share one particular quality other than heart and a desire to do good in order to help their fellow man and, in turn, mankind.

  The people and organizations you’ll meet in the pages that follow are each doing their own part to bring order to chaos and to show up for other people. I believe they improve the lives of all of us every day just by tipping the scales in favor of good rather than evil. Each one represents a different way of either overcoming adversity, helping others, or both. Each one, in his or her own way, represents the pebble that lands in the middle of the pond, generating ripples of help and hope outward.

  Their actions are an example for the rest of us. If a “notorious” bad-ass like Jesse James can help the homeless, if a preteen from Middle America can raise money for cancer victims with a lemonade stand, if a few socks can brighten a shut-in’s day—what can we do to make a difference? And what—perhaps less noteworthy—actions do we take that imprint on the next generation in ways we may never know, simply because we lived a good life caring about others. What tips will they pick up? How will the pebbles of our actions create ripples? It isn’t ours to know; it is only ours to do right, live well, and help others. The beauty about ripples is that they take care of themselves.

  I don’t mean to preach, but it occurs to Jim and me that there’s something here for everyone in these stories we’ve compiled. We are from opposite coasts with a wide range of experiences and friendships between us. There isn’t anyone we know who can’t appreciate some highlighting of good in the world. My hope is to combat the influx of negativity with some positivity to benefit your soul as it has mine. My desire is for you to know that every action, big or small, has the potential to spark someone else’s movement. My fondest wish is that someone reading our book will see themselves in one of the stories and go out and do something similar. Or better.

  I’ve learned many things while working on this book: lessons about resilience, about courage, about generosity. Lessons about God and religion, lessons about human nature. But what I’ve taken away most importantly is this:

  Despite what the haters, the politicians, and the antagonists say, the beauty in the American Spirit is still very much alive. It hasn’t died; it’s not even on life support. It does have to be nurtured—but that’s always been true, from the very first settlements in Florida, Massachusetts, and Virginia. It was true on the frontier, in 1860, 1890, 1941. It’s true now.

  It’s good to look back to the pioneers for examples; it’s important to celebrate the achievements of the Greatest Generation. And it’s critical to look at what others are doing today, to look at our lives, and to say, What have I done to build on the promises their achievements made? What else can I do tomorrow?

  I hope our book will provide a few hints to what the answers might be.

  One

  Growing a Future

  Our Kids as the Future

  It’s a cliché—our kids are our future.

  But clichés are often clichés precisely because they are true, and this one is no exception; it’s baked into our DNA. Our progress as communities and a country, and our collective and even in many cases our individual futures, literally depend on them. Our survival as a species depends on them.

  That’s one reason so many pioneer families moved from other countries to the U.S., and why so many others—and, in many cases, the same ones—moved westward to the frontier. They were willing to sacrifice their own comfort, even their own lives, for their children.

  We see that same spirit today—mothers and fathers working two and even three jobs to provide for their kids, to send them to school or simply pay the bills.

  But at the same time, negative undercurrents about the “next generation” are a separate cliché. I’m sure you’ve heard the comments:

  Today’s kids don’t know the value of hard work.

  When I was young, we had respect for teachers . . . pastors . . . police . . . adults . . .

  What is this generation coming to?

  Now, I can’t deny that yes, our society has its share of problem children. And no sane mother can say with a straight face that everyone under voting age, or even the age of reason, is an angel. Even the best kids can be a trial and burden at times, and I doubt there is a mom or dad on Earth that hasn’t come close to despair at some point when raising their children—or at least when observing the antics of some of their children’s friends.

  But those moments and bad apples don’t negate the reality that, on the whole and at heart, children are capable of great things, not just in the future, but now. Children can be a source of hope and even strength. They can inspire us with their kindness; they can make us see beauty where we noticed only the mundane. They can make us stop and think; they can push us to do better.

  My own kids were an important part of my recovery from despair.

  Not only were they my reason to push through, but their ability to understand what was happening in a way far beyond their years motivated me. It made me see how wise they are and how hopeful we can be about the future. And not just my kids but others’ as well.

  The year after Chris died, I carried through with a commitment to coach my daughter’s soccer team. Those girls were an inspiration—and a workout! I’m sure at first they must have thought I was crazy, as we ran around the field to warm up boot-camp style. But they found they were more capable than they ever imagined. I believe grit is an innate quality and an opportunity we waste when we don’t encourage it in the young. Why wait to show children they are stronger than they think and more capable of making a difference than they can ever imagine?

  Determination and generosity are best when they go hand in hand. I’ve been so privileged to meet strong, generous young people who are helping others in their community in big and small ways. I respect not only them but their parents; they’ve caught the ripple of good works and magnified it.

  Trick, Treat, Triumph

  Nick Blair

  Take Nickolas Blair, an eleven-year-old in Independence, Missouri.

  Independence, which sits next to Kansas City and borders the Missouri River, was the starting point for many pioneers during the Westward Expansion of the nineteenth century; settlers would gather in town to form wagon trains before heading out on the California, Oregon, and Santa Fe Trails. It’s also Harry Truman’s hometown, the place where our thirty-third president learned exactly where the buck stops when you’re in charge.

  Nick is one of four kids in his family, and he was a sixth-grader at Bridger Middle School when he came home and told his parents that he wanted to do something a little different for Halloween. He’d been hearing some stories of people who didn’t have enough to eat, and on a trip through town, he saw several people sitting in the streets begging for money so they could buy food. Rather than just feeling sad about them, he’d come up with a way to help them.

  Rather than trick-or-treating for candy, why not trick-or-treat for canned goods and other items that could be donated to the local food pantry?

  If an adult had come up with that idea, undoubtedly he or she would have focused on the questi
ons and roadblocks—how do you get the food to the pantry, how do you figure out who gets it, how-do-you-how-do-you-how-do-you?

  But when you’re eleven, the questions all have a simple answer and the roadblocks just disappear.

  Not by magic, of course. Nick’s parents thought the idea was great, and after a little research on Facebook, his mom, Natalie, found Hands and Feet of Jesus, a local church organization that helps the homeless get back on their feet. The group was enthusiastic, but their response was nothing like the local community’s or that of Nick’s schoolmates. As Nick told friends and neighbors about his idea, it suddenly went viral—not only did everyone think it was a great cause, but they wanted to do it, too. A journalist heard about it, wrote a story . . . the local television station came around . . . within a few days, everyone in town was talking about it. Who knew collecting food for the homeless could be a big deal?

  But it was. It seemed as though the whole city was in on it by the time Halloween came around. Not only did kids want to help, but adults wanted in as well, stockpiling nonperishable food to donate. The local Kmart’s management and employees stepped up to act as a collection point for people outside of Nick’s neighborhood.

  Now, this being Halloween, Nick and his clan couldn’t just go around in suits and ties to ask for donations. Mom and Dad fixed him up with a costume based on one of his favorite video-game characters: Sonic the Hedgehog. They decorated a toy wagon to take with them for the “loot,” and off they went.

  Good thing they brought the wagon. Nick and his family and friends collected nearly three thousand cans in their neighborhood, along with copious amounts of dried goods such as mac and cheese. The family car was enlisted to bring some of the goods to the pantry, but bigger guns had to be called in—a truck and trailer were enlisted to pick up the donations.