by Angela Rocco DeCarlo copyright, 2009
We just can’t let go of US Airways Captain Chelsey B. Sullenberger, III.
We want to look at him. Listen to him. Stand in the heat of his reflected glory to stem the chill of months of castastrastrokes.
Sully and his remarkable crew of the January, 15, US Airways flight 1549, have taken up the huge empty space in our national psyche reserved for those who are undeniably honorable and competent. Every culture needs its heroes and ours have gone missing.
As a country, we feel adrift in a sea of offensive behaviors on nearly every front: Deceptive incompetent politicians, effete Wall Street greedmeisters, mortgage hucksters on the make, and entrepreneurial Octomom, primed to reap millions from her planned popping of six, and than the full house hand of eight babies, for which we Californians will pay the tab. We’re sinking in a grotesque nightmare of fiscal and moral morass. Sully and his crew threw us a life raft.
Is it any wonder we are dazzled by the Miracle on the Hudson crew with their brilliant, but modest, success in saving lives – at least for the moment. For we all know such miracles are merely a ...