As the new year begins, the media roll out their annual tributes to the rich and famous who’ve passed on.
But I’d rather tell you about one of the wealthiest fellows I ever met — John Swiatek, who died in 2009 just shy of his 84th birthday.
John was born in 1925, the only son in a family with five daughters. His family lived in a row house on Pittsburgh’s North Side.
He was just five when the Depression hit, and his family struggled for years. He didn’t know the joy of indoor plumbing until he was in his teens.
By financial measures, his family was poor, but John didn’t know it. The family had a roof over its head, enough food to eat — it had laughter and caring neighbors.
He graduated from high school in 1942 at 17 and passed on a scholarship to play college basketball to enlist in the Navy.
World War II was underway. He was on a ship in the South Pacific when a typhoon hit. The ship washed ashore in enemy territory. John hid in a cave and scavenged for food at night, but survived.
One day, while walking down the streets of Iwo Jima, he bumped into his brother-in-law, who was also serving in the Navy. They enjoyed a brief reunion.
His brother-in-law was killed the next day when a Japanese kamikaze airplane hit the ship on which he served.
John made it home, though. He went on a blind date with Anna Mae O’Toole. He was 100 percent Polish; she was 100 percent Irish.
It was a match made in heaven. They would have four children and 12 grandchildren.
John became a firefighter. His first fire was in a warehouse on Pittsburgh’s South Side. He and the veteran firefighter who was training him were battling the blaze when a high-voltage wire broke loose.
The wire whipped about violently. It just missed John but hit the firefighter next to him, killing the man instantly.
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John worked as a firefighter the next 23 years. He always had at least two jobs — sometimes three.
He set aside every penny to provide for his family — sending his kids to private Catholic schools and saving for college.
Material things never impressed him. He had a modest home, a basic car. All he cared about was his family.
John never became famous or financially well-to-do.
He was an honest man who toiled in silence.
He paid his bills on time, voted and was a good neighbor.
He was a firm but loving father, his oldest son said, and his example left a powerful impact on his children and grandchildren.
John had no way of knowing it, but the decisions he made in his life would benefit total strangers.
His honesty and goodness took root in his children and his children’s children — character traits that are benefiting my family now.
My sister married John’s youngest son, a good man like his father who devoted himself to his wife and three children, who are now flourishing as adults.
As the new year begins and the media dwell on the rich and famous, I think it’s worth remembering a genuine American hero: John Swiatek — one of the wealthiest fellows I ever met.
Find Tom Purcell’s syndicated column, humor books and videos of his dog, Thurber, at TomPurcell.com. Email him at tom@tompurcell.com.
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