COUNTRYMAN – Stories about life, in and out of Guyana, from a Guyanese perspective

Jan 25, 2015 Countryman, Features / Columnists

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More heroes – Wesley Autrey, Nick Vujicic, and a Guyanese Rasta

By Dennis Nichols
One of my favourite poems is ‘Elegy Written in a Country Churchyard’ by Thomas Gray. I love the rustic simplicity of its setting and its profound but

sore truths about how greatness and heroism may be stifled by poverty and lack of opportunity. I ponder this, and remember the churchyard graves at Highdam and Mahaicony on the east coast of Demerara during my early youth, and along the Essequibo Coast after I began visiting my wife’s family in Devonshire Castle. Are there any heroes buried there?
As in Gray’s elegy, I suppose manya ‘heart pregnant with celestial fire’ or hands that ‘wak’d to ecstasy the living lyre’ are stilled forever there, and though Gray doesn’t mention it, heroes, unsung and unremembered. It’s a sombre reflection on the kind of circumstance which often makes saints of scoundrels while relegating to obscurity others who perform acts of simple and selfless courage.
Thankfully, or hopefully, the three heroes I salute today are still alive. – An American, an Australian and a Guyanese, none of whom may be considered great or heroic by some conventional standards. By the way, a hero to me doesn’t have to execute some improbable feat to be so labeled. A life of personal courage and triumph over seemingly insurmountable odds may suffice. Such is the story of my first hero.
Nick Vujicic (pronounced Vo-yi-chich) is an Australian evangelist and motivational speaker. He has a double Bachelor’s degree in Accounting and Financial Planning. His face radiates joy and warmth, coupled with a charisma that has drawn millions to him, and to his story of personal triumph.
Watch a camera pan downwards from Nick’s expressive face, and be prepared for a shock. Below his neck is a 23-inch trunk, and nothing more. Well actually he has a tiny appendage of a limb he jokingly refers to as ‘my little chicken drumstick’. The man has a sense of

humour totally disproportionate to his diminutive torso, and he comes across as one of the realest and most compassionate persons you’ll ever meet.
Nick was born with something called Tetra-Amelia Syndrome, a very rare disorder characterized by the absence of all four limbs in an otherwise healthy body. He says that as a child, he questioned God as to the reason why he had no arms or legs, and at age 10 was so depressed that he attempted to drown himself in a bathtub. Obviously he was unsuccessful. His failure is the world’s gain.
After struggling mentally, emotionally, and physically with his disability, Nick came to terms with it, and simultaneously found his faith. He turned adversity on its head, and now he swims, plays soccer and golf, pilots a speedboat, fishes, writes, cooks, answers the telephone, and does a hundred other things you’d suppose he couldn’t do. To top it off he got married two years ago to a stunning woman who has since borne him a handsome and healthy son.
“It’s a lie to think that you’re not good enough; it’s a lie to think you’re not worth anything,” he practically yells at a hall full of teenagers. Then he jokes with them, about a time when it was really cold. ‘It’s freezing; I can’t feel my hands’.
When they get to meet him, people get emotional. Young men and women cry, both with compassion and with joy, especially when they are invited to give him a hug. And he gets plenty. He is on track to hold the Guinness world record as the most hugged human being ever.
Over the past decade, Nick Vujicic had travelled to over 60 countries and has spoken to and inspired millions of people. Maybe we should try to get him to come here – before our elections?
In 2007, Wesley Autrey, a 50-year-old construction worker, was waiting for the train at a New York/Manhattan subway station with his two daughters, age four and six. As he stood there, he suddenly noticed that a young man was having a seizure. Borrowing a pen, he used it keep his jaw open, but the man, Cameron Hollopeter, collapsed and stumbled onto the train tracks. Nearby commuters froze. Not Autrey.
As the train appeared, roaring out of the tunnel a hundred yards away, he implored a fellow commuter to hold on to his girls. Then, without a thought for his own safety, he leapt onto the track. But there wasn’t enough time to pull the man to safety. What happened next was surely a miracle.
Autrey lay on top of Hollopeter between the tracks and held him down, shielding him with his body, and praying that he wouldn’t move. The train roared into the station, over the bodies of the two men, and didn’t stop until all but two of the carriages had passed over them. They were unscathed.
Scary? Not as scary as the fact that just a one-inch clearance separated the train’s lowest extremity from  Autrey’s head as it thundered over them; in fact so close were the two that grease from its underbelly  smudged the ‘tope’ he was wearing at the time. That must have given new meaning to the term ‘a close shave’.
He was dubbed the ‘subway Samaritan’ and showered with adulation and gifts, including $10,000 from Donald Trump, two cars, and honour by NY Mayor Mike Bloomberg, Senator Hillary Clinton and President George Bush. By the way. Autrey is Black and Hollopeter White. Did it matter?
Finally, our Guyanese hero. His name is Ordock Reid.  It was mid-afternoon on Monday, July 17, 2006. A five-year-old girl, Brianna Dover, had fallen into a 12-foot deep sewage-filled storage facility in Tucville. It was reported that people who knew what had happened just stood around, no doubt scorning the stink of sewage and the very real health concerns of submerging oneself in it. Not so Mr. Reid.
According to what I recall of the news article I read, upon hearing of the child’s predicament, this guy, who was a Rasta, swiftly shaved off his ‘locks’ (a significant sacrifice) and dove into the foetid tank. He felt and searched, and eventually found the child. Sadly the young victim did not survive. The article reported that ‘Rasta’ was heartbroken and gave vent to tears of frustration.
I can’t remember what happened in the aftermath of this episode, whether or not our hero was rewarded, or to what extent, if any, he was recognized by the country’s leadership. From all accounts this man risked his life for another; also his health and the sacrifice of one of any true Rasta’s most distinguishing features. I think some form of recognition was in order.
What I learnt that subsequently things didn’t go too well with him and he had some serious trouble with the law. In my book, though the law must duly take its course in that regard, the circumstances wouldn’t detract from the bravery and selflessness Reid displayed that day. Heroism comes in many forms, often in subtle or disagreeable guise.

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