My father; now I could say he's one of the smartest people you'll ever meet, or that he's one of the funniest people you'll ever meet, or that he's had to put up with more bullshit in his life than most people have to in ten lifetimes, but all of those things seem insubstantial next to this story.
My mother tells me it was about three-thirty in the afternoon. Him and my mom were walking down a street when they both noticed there was a fire about a block away from them. My dad and her ran to it to see what was happening; There were a bunch of other people gathered around it too (my mother says it was at least fifty) just standing and looking at the burning building. My father went over to talk to someone, and, givivng a slip of paper to my mother, told her to call the fire station and inform them of the situation, which she did (She was told the firetrucks were already on their way, so it was something of a moot point). When she came back, several firetrucks and ambulences had gotten there; One of the firemen walked up to her and asked her if she knew my dad (she said yes) and he told her that my dad had pulled three people out of the building behind them, and that he was on one of the ambulences getting some air.
Later, my mother asked my dad why he would run into a burning building, and he turned to her and said, "Did you expect me to stand there and watch people die?"
That is why I admire my father, more so than any other person. Not becase he ran into a burning building, but because he ran into a burning building to save people.