He asked for heroes not heroines

That's a really interesting point: I wouldn't think of any of my own 'heroes' in that way either. Which is not to say that I cannot see people as being or having been heroic. So (keeping it away from war), the likes of Armstrong and Gagarin and Tereshkova would be heroic – it must have been bloody brave or foolhardly or a combination of both to get into their respective tin cans with a big bomb beneath them.

But while I'm not uninterested in astronomy and space exploration, they wouldn't make a personal list.

The phrase I've used semi-jokingly in recent years has been 'household gods'.

It's mostly people whose work I admire particularly, possibly feel (hope) is influential – and sometimes who I admire themselves: they're not always all of those things. Mostly cultural or historic figures. Perhaps oddly, I've never tended to really pout sporting figures into my personal pantheon, although there are more than a few. Similarly, there aren't really many pop/rock stars who feature. Many of these have, so to speak, been 'with me', for years.

So to give a flavour, and in absolutely no particular order except as I think of them: Thomas Mann, Günter Grass, Jane Austen, Terry Pratchett, Gabriel García Márquez, Raymond Chandler, Humphrey Bogart, Lauren Bacall, Robert Preston, Katherine Hepburn, Cary Grant, George Gershwin, Daniel Barenboim, Herbert von Karajan, Beethoven, Mozart, Bach, Richard Strauss, Johan Strauss II, Gilbert & Sullivan (particularly the former), Otto von Bismarck, Elizabeth David, Raymond Blanc, van Gogh, Jan van Eyck, Stephen Sondheim, Simone de Beauvoir, Elizabeth I, Albert Camus, Ella Fitzgerald, Friedrich Nietzsche, Karl Marx, Frederich der Grosse, Gore Vidal, Stewie Griffin ...

Exoneration, thank you.

This is going to soound corny, trite, I know, but what the hell...

One of my heroes is Chris.

You don't know him, but I knew him from 11 years of age, we were in the same class at school, we lived within a few streets of each other for most of our life, we married within a year of each other, like me he had two daughters and they were born a year apart from ours, we were mates and theres a group of 10 or so of us around here who call ourselves "Mates" in that way that males who have known each other all of their lives do.

Three years ago in Jan 09 we were in a pub on a Friday night and he complained of feeling dizzy (not even finished first pint so not that), we sat him down and he was ok after a while but confessed that it had happened before. On the Monday he went to his GP who refered him immediately to the LGI, by Tuesday he got the results of various tests and scans to find that he had two aggressive brain tumours one of which was deep in his brain and inoperable.

His prognosis was death within a dozen or so weeks and one of our "Mates" who is a Medical Consultant confirmed that that woul dbe his diagnosis too, he also explained to all of us (but not Chris who was taking his own advice from his consultant) what the end would be like, not very nice was the answer, loss of sight, loss of hearing, incapability, pretty dreadful way to go.

He was offered chemotherapy or no treatment, he asked his consultant what he would do, he said no treatment and enjoy your last couple of months rather than be very sick with chemo that probably wouldn't help much, so he chose the no treatment palative route and spent five or six weeks with his family going to places they enjoyed, we took him out in his wheelchair for a couple of absolute classic friday nights out and someone organised a VIP trip to Elland Rd for him hosted by Allan Clarke (a hero of Chris's).

His last two weeks were spent at Wheatfields Hospice in Leeds and he died at the end of March and because our lives were so closely mirrored I felt his passing very personally especially for his two daughters, but the way he handled his prognosis and those final few weeks was exemplorary, no blame, no pity, just an acceptance of fate and lets just enjoy this moment - that was heroic.

And it wouldn't be right if I also didn't mention the staff at Wheatfields who were heroes to all of us, love them all.

Neither corny nor trite Mc F.

Peoples strength in their darkest hours is humbling and equally inspiring.
Someone I'd been involved with, on and off, for the last few years, died December 2nd just gone.
I spent every day of her last 6 months with her, whilst terminally ill, (she had asked if I would, and I decided it was the right thing to do) and although not easy, I am richer for the experience.
Similarly to your pal, there was no moaning or carrying-on. Just an acceptance that fate had dealt her a dastardly blow, perhaps, well before it should have. Unfortunately, that's the way the cookie crumbles.

Like yourself, the staff at Hull's Dove House hospice (she spent a short period in there before dying at home) were absolutely A1 superb.

Jill was fairly 'heroic', to me, anyway.

Good call.

In the explorer category, it's between him and Tom Crean for me.

As well as the absolutely incredible epic journey with Shackleton, on a previous expedition Crean was one of the men who Scott told they wouldn't go to the South Pole and they headed back to base.
Crean saved both Evans and Lashley (who were done-in) by walking the last thirty-odd miles alone in thigh-deep snow to the base to get help.

An honorable mention to the group meeting under the tree in my avatar.

This could be a bloody long list! I exclude any historical figures. Just ones I cam across one way or another in my lifetime.

Neil Armstrong would certainly have to be on my personal heroes list, I take the point that all the Apollo crews were objectively pretty much equally heroic but if the point of the thread is who became - for whatever reason - heroes [ito me[/i then Armstrong it is. What he achieved made a great impression on me, and started off a lifelong interest in astronomy. But I well remember Collins, I remember as a kid thinking what it must be like, so near and yet so far.

Woody Allen. I really get his humour and his take on life.

Jimmy Thompson, Keith Mumby and and Karl Fairbank. When I was a kid watching the Northern, I was just in awe of them. Trevor Foster.

Neil Young, Joni Mitchell and Bob Dylan. They redefined music completely for me, made me realise that they could write and sing about anything, and in a way that resonated.

David Attenborough. Just inspirational.

Coe, Ovett and Cram. Could never wait for the next instalment.

Bobby Moore, Bobby Charlton and Pelé. The epitome of sportsmen. Probably throw in George Best too.

Freddie Trueman, Geoff Boycott and Brian Close. Bishan Bedi and Muralitharan, Merv Hughes and Dennis Lillee, Viv Richards, Clive LLoyd, Michael Holding. Cricket as she should be played.

Great thread this. I could go on for yonks.

They were about to be transported to Australia for 7 years for daring to unite in protest at the starvation wages they were being paid.

Some on here would doubtless call them, the good old days.

blimey JC, that's an heroic story but what a choice to have to make ?

my missus' condition is 'terminal' but she still has palliative options to make life 'liveable' but i'm sure the day will come when the options run out...

if you can imagine 1955 (I was I year old) - my dad was diagnosed with a brian tumour about the size of a marble apparently - remember this is 1955 - he was sent to St Barts in London and underwent more tests, the cheif surgeon told him there was no cure and a quick death was certain but, if he wanted to take the risk he could be a guinea pig in research brain surgery techniques, along with 7 other guinea pigs - well, after surviving 4 years in POW camps in Austria & Germany he wasn't afraid so he agreed to have the surgery - basically the surgeon drilled a hole about 1.5 inches into his skull and with some pliers and a blade reached in and cut out the tumour - to get to the tumour he had to cut through several nerves including the nerves serving the right side of his body - my dad survived but was deaf in his right ear and had only 50% use of the rest of the right side so he limped and couldn't see too well with his right eye for example because the nerves serving the muscles wouldn't keep the eye open so he did exercises to keep the muscles as strong as possible - now my dad not only brought up three sons with my mum but also built up a decent business which kept us fed and watered - he used to go to London once yearly for a check up but 30 years after the operation the specialists said he was 'cured' and not to waste their time any longer...he died in 2005 at the age of 86 some 50 years after the 'experimental' operation...now that's what I call a hero !

He'll soon get hung,drawn and quartered by many of our lot if he isn't doing the business this time next year.