TED FLED – and left his constituents and young daughters out in the cold.
Ask me for a “profile in courage in the snow,” and my answer would be quick and unequivocal:
When we were kids, a rare snowstorm hit Rockingham and forced schools to close. To celebrate the unexpected snow day, my buddies and I grabbed our guns – okay, they were sticks that our imaginations turned into guns – and rushed into the woods to play Combat.
Darrell, my lifelong friend, and I were both about 11, which made us the oldest of our ragtag platoon. His brother Mark was the youngest at about 8.
We were traipsing through the woods wearing their dad’s army helmets from the Korean War, scoping out the enemy of the day, when Mark stepped into an icy puddle. His shoes and feet got soaked and he began to cry.
Within seconds, Darrell had taken off his boots and put them on his little brother’s feet. We called off the war and ran home to warm up. He ran home barefooted.
That was the most courageous thing I’ve personally ever seen in