While standing outside of an airport, waiting for my big brother to pick me up, I get a call. It’s my brother’s wife.
“I’m sorry, J. We’re gonna be a few more minutes.”
“It’s okay. Are you lost?”
“No. Your brother—he’s—his shirt’s off. There’s a guy on the ground…”
“Huh?”
“There was an accident—“
Panic. I begin to imagine where they might be, and if I could sprint there. “Are you okay? Where are you? Where’s (my nephew)?”
“We’re fine. No, this guy, he was sitting in his car, and your brother saw him. He’s helping him.“
“Oh. Oh! Good Lord. Where?”
“I don’t know.” She doesn’t drive much, so she doesn’t know her way around town yet. “Somewhere close to you?”
I hear sirens wailing. “I think so. You’re getting help soon. So, what happened, exactly? And why is (my brother’s) shirt off?”
She laughs. “I don’t know. He’s…doing something to him.”
It’s an odd picture, but the explanation would have to wait. I don’t want to distract her if my brother or nephew might need her assistance. I hang up and head back inside the terminal.
Not too long afterward, my brother calls. “Sorry ‘bout that. Just had to save some dude’s life. I’ll be there in five.”
And he was, just like he promised, wearing a clean pair of a jeans and a police officer’s jacket zipped up over his bare torso. I had to laugh, but then I began to think:
This is an awful lot like a romance-novel setup. Is my brother an Alpha Hero?
I rolled my eyes at the notion. My brother? Blah! I love him and all, but come on! He’s my brother! He’s no hero. I mean, okay. I know he’s heroic—he’s always been willing to put himself on the line to save a stranger—but come on. An Alpha? Women write long, lusty books about guys like that. This is my BROTHER we’re talking about here!
Ewwww!
But he was shirtless, and it was Christmas Eve. Something about this situation had me thinking in Times New Roman. A romantic suspense novel began to compose itself in my brain, and, horribly, my brother was the handsome man who arrives to save the fair maiden in distress.
Soon enough, though, my brother told us what had actually happened.
On his way to the airport, he’d seen a lone car dead in an otherwise busy intersection. Two cops were already on the scene, gathered around the driver of the car. To some people, that’d be enough. They’d drive on, presuming help had already arrived. To my brother, the single-car accident looked like a medical emergency. He has great respect for police officers, but he’s a battle-tested Army combat medic. He’s knows he has more real-world life-saving experience than the average cop. So he careened his truck to a stop and jumped out to help. He showed the cops his credentials—he happens to live down the street from one of them, so he wasn’t a complete stranger–and they deferred to him. He quickly realized that the heavyset man slumped in the car wasn’t breathing, but he had a heartbeat. They pulled him out—at times like that, spinal injuries are a secondary concern to basic life support—but no one had a mouth protector for CPR. The guy was going to die on the street if they couldn’t keep air flowing to his brain. My brother saw just one way to save the man’s life and protect himself in the process.
He tugged off his t-shirt, stretched it over the unconscious man’s mouth, and gave him CPR until the ambulance arrived. When the EMTs got there, they intubated an airway and took the man to a hospital. Had my brother not stopped to help, the driver of the car wouldn’t have survived to see Christmas Day.
Oh, his son was there, too. That’s right. My four-year-old nephew got to watch his daddy save a stranger’s life. His wife got to watch him do it shirtless. How’s that for a memory?
How fictional does all that sound? Totally fictional, but it’s 100% real.
I’m shocked to say it, but my big brother is a true Alpha Hero.
Do you, too, know a real-life alpha male? What’s his extraordinary alpha ability? What do you love about him—or what does he do that drives you crazy?
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I totally understand the “eeww” factor”—after all, brothers can be gross, classless, and annoying as “heck”(I was blessed with four of the little beasts)—but sounds to me like you have an alpha on your hands, or rather your sil does. The good news is the domineering, overbearing, caveman variety are as rare as hen’s teeth. Most modern alphas aren’t threatened by strong women and will willingly defer unless their specific alpha qualities are required—at least in my experience.
Alphas aren’t necessarily good at “sensitive”, but they are aware. They are protective, intense, and can be downright unreasonable when someone they love does something they deem foolish or dangerous. Yes, the chest beating can get a little old, but mostly that’s saved for playing or watching sports with their friends—thank heaven.
WEIRD!
You’ve nailed my brother’s particular Alpha personality type! You must know one yourself.
Our mother is S-T-R-O-N-G and I’m no pushover, so he knows his way around opinionated women who like to handle their own problems. As you said, he’s hyper-aware of human behavior and beats his chest like a silverback. He’s a handful — and Lord, can he get LOUD — but I love him to pieces, and he’s an excellent father, husband, brother, and son.
Okay, it’s official; that took me so by surprise, I spit coffee on my monitor. Still laughing.
(This should have been included in the previous bit, but, remember, still laughing . . .
Okay, maybe it isn’t me. I know I included the bit about “beats his chest like a silverback” the second time, but although it copied to the comment box, it didn’t show in the comment. Sorry.