Heroes aren't always obvious

Resslin' Around

Look to the back of the Iditarod pack, and you'll find the real stories of the Last Great Race. And sometimes you don't even have to go as far as the finish line to find them.

Hard luck would be a fitting description for Willow's David Straub. He can't win for losing, it seems, but it doesn't get him down. His first Iditarod dream ended before it started, as an 18-wheeler hit his team on the Parks Highway during training. His second shot at the world-famous race ended this March with a separated shoulder near the Farewell Burn.

The story of the help mushers gave Straub — Ryan Redington stayed with him for an hour, and other mushers stopped to help him — was a great Iditarod tale about companionship and humanity on the trail. But just because Straub's goal of finishing the race ended abruptly, he is a hero in Taylor Landrum's eyes.

"Hero" isn't a title Straub ever expected to wear, and he surely doesn't think of himself in those terms either. But by sending a 3-year-old dog — Steel — to Taylor last week, that is exactly how Taylor, an 8-year-old boy from Kentucky, feels about him.

Growing up, Iditarod mushers weren't his heroes.

The Kansas City Chiefs were his heroes, and for good reason. They were the world champions at the time, and nearly everybody in Kansas City recognized them.

"My brother would see Lennie Dawson [the Chiefs' Hall-of-Fame quarterback] and tell me to go get his autograph," Straub said. "I couldn't do it. They were larger than life. They were huge, and they seemed even bigger than they were."

Then, when Straub was an 8-year-old himself, he found another hero — his older brother.

At Christmas that year, Straub got some clothes and other things, but not what he really wanted.

His older brother came through — with a brand-new bike for his younger sibling, sitting on the porch, just like Santa Claus left it for him.

"I'll never forget that," Straub said. "It meant so much to me. He saved his money, just to buy his younger brother a bicycle for Christmas. I'll never forget how great that made me feel."

Steel gave Straub the opportunity to repay that gratitude. It isn't to his brother, but it is to an 8-year-old who sees Straub as a larger-than-life hero, much like Straub felt toward Len Dawson, Hank Stram and the rest of the Chiefs in his childhood.

"I know what it's like to be an 8-year-old with big dreams," Straub said. "Sending them Steel will give them something to remember for the rest of their lives. It's one dog to me, but it's a huge deal for them."

Just interacting with Straub, a real-life Iditarod musher, was a huge deal for Taylor, however.

Getting Steel just made the interaction with his hero even better.

"We started communicating, and I really like David Straub," Taylor said from his Kentucky home. "He's a real nice man. I didn't think he would send me one of his dogs, though."

Taylor turns nine on April 29, and he thinks of Steel as "a late Easter present and an early birthday present."

No matter how he looks at it, it is something he will cherish for the rest of his life.

Straub never did get the chance as an 8-year-old to meet Lennie Dawson, one of his idols. And even if he had, what are the chances Dawson would have given him his used jersey, or a game-used football?

By giving Taylor a beautiful Iditarod dog, Straub is doing the equivalent, and a whole lot more.

Casey Ressler (ressler@alaska.net) is the Frontiersman Valley Life editor. He, too, would like to meet Len Dawson.