He once chased an offensive customer around the tire shop with a crowbar. (It made the local news.)

Why is Mike a “knight in shining armor”?

Because he digs wells. When he saves up money and has some time, he goes over to Africa and digs wells in small villages. Water wells. Many of these towns haven’t had a source of water nearer than three miles in a generation.

If you ask him about the wells, his expression isn’t so grim any more. Sometimes he shows you pictures of the villages. I refrain from pointing out to him that the ensuing conversation comes perilously near to “chit-chat.” (I have no desire to make the 100-yard crowbar dash.) Once he collected a cargo container full of fabric and clothes to send over.(He only did it once — I think he collected too much … )

I always buy my tires at Mike’s; he has good prices.

— J. Chennault, California

Submit your own True Story of Chivalry»

Related posts:

1. A Humble Knight
2. Podcast 48: Chivalry And Swordsmen
3. The Medicine of Chivalry

Many years ago, my father received a call in the middle of the night. A competitor’s crewman had been painting the inside of a water tower and passed out from the fumes. The competitor was based out-of-state and asked my father for help because the other crewman refused to go back into the tower. My father, a married man with six young children, agreed without hesitation.

The location of the water tower was a two-hour drive away, and time was critical. The longer the crewman stayed trapped among the fumes, the greater chance he had of suffering brain damage or even dying. In fact, no one knew if this man was dead or alive.

My father called the Air-Life Rescue at a local army base. They refused, saying that they were limited to a 30-mile radius. Frustrated, my father prepared to drive to the water tower when the Air-Life Rescue called and agreed to fly him to the helpless man (displaying their own act of chivalry). He drove to the base and was transported within 30 minutes.

In the meantime, the other crewman had agreed to climb the water tower and wait for the helicopter to drop a heavy metal hook into the water tank so he could attach it to the unconscious man. Immediately, another problem presented itself. The helicopter’s propeller generated high winds and if the metal hook hit the freshly-painted water tower, the paint fumes that had caused the crewman to become unconscious would ignite.

The only option was for the helicopter to lower the hook — and my father — into the water tower to ensure that metal did not strike metal.

I’ll never forget my father’s courage. He could have easily said “no” to such a request, but he saved a stranger’s life that night and was home to wake his children in the morning. I’m honored to call Gordon C. Allen my father and my hero.

— Robin Allen, Texas

Submit your own True Story of Chivalry»

Related posts:

1. Chivalry On A Cellular Level
2. A Hot Day’s Chivalry
3. A Flourish in the Desert

As he walked to his car, Daniel had his eyes downcast, matching his mood. As he walked down the driveway and onto the sidewalk, he noticed what looked like money lying on the ground. He bent over to pick it up and found it was a pack of $20 bills held together by a paperclip. He had his miracle! This unexpected find would help him put the finishing touches on the holiday without straining his ability to pay the bills.

Daniel looked up; his mood was lighter now. He had gone from feeling hopeless to feeling things were possible now. He counted: seven $20 bills in the packet. Someone else’s loss, a stranger, was going to be his family’s gain. Daniel was elated with his good fortune. “Finders keepers,” was the first thought that came to his mind.

As he stood there with the money in hand, Daniel noticed an older woman walking slowly toward him on the sidewalk, her head bent down, talking aloud to herself. She was surprised when she looked up and saw Daniel standing there.

“Ma’am, is everything okay?” Daniel asked the woman who looked as if she had been crying.

“I … I lost my money. I must have a hole in my coat pocket. It’s all gone,” she said mournfully. “It’s all I have left from my Social Security until the first of the month. How will I live?”

Daniel hesitated for just a moment as he looked at the woman standing with him. “Did your money have a clip on it, ma’am?” he asked.

“Why yes, it did! I put a paperclip on it and folded it over. Did you see it?” she asked incredulously and with hope in her voice.

Daniel took the money he had placed in his pocket and handed it to the woman. Her hands were shaking as she took the money from him.

“Thank you very much. Where did you find it?” the woman inquired.

“Right here,” said Daniel. “Merry Christmas to you.”

Daniel went to his car feeling some sadness about not having found the solution to his money woes, but richer in his heart for doing the right thing.

— Deb Jones, Michigan

Submit your own True Story of Chivalry»

Related posts:

1. The Medicine of Chivalry
2. A Little Lesson in Chivalry
3. Be Worthy of Chivalry

This fellow must have been real popular — there was a long motorcade in honor of this person that had just passed away. I remember about half-way through this long line passing through to the cemetery, I was getting very impatient, and I started kind of muttering my frustration to myself. On the side walk my right, I saw a homeless man, and I began to weep as I observed him placing his hat on his chest until the last car passed through. Then he went about his business.

That homeless man, by performing a simple little gesture of respect, taught me that we are all humans, and when one of us passes on, we should remember that a soul has gone into eternity. He reminded me that long or short, a line of mourners needs comforting in every way possible. That humble, unnamed knight in shining armor was contributing his part.

— Mike Scully, Arkansas

Submit your own True Story of Chivalry»

Related posts:

1. Shocks and Chivalry
2. A Flourish in the Desert
3. He Doesn’t Look Like A Knight

The author, Robert DeRechter, has nearly 30 years of experience as both a trial lawyer and a judge. His background adds an interesting perspective to this story of “knights in the courtroom.”

The small still voice is more often ignored than unheard. Brazen, loud, bravado-laden demands frequently monopolize advocacy. Lawyers become caricatures, two-dimensional figures. Subtlety and full-dimensioned truth are sublimated to a “show time” mentality. And trials become over-simplified Brothers Grimm tales of “good versus evil,” a marketing tool of words to get a fee.

I heard the modification action: both counsels claiming their client was the only one wrapped in the robe of decency, that the heavens bathed them in the streaming light of righteousness.

Yet the respondent was anything but a damsel in distress. She was a battered mother of three children — working at minimum wage, broken of cash, broken of will and dragging a chain of lost opportunities. She was a ghost of “good life” and “good intentions” past. Now she wanted the original custody order reversed.

Her lawyer was anything but a knight in shining armor. He walked on three legs: two that God gave him and one that his doctor gave him. He was so old that his frail frame, even supported by his cane, would have collapsed under a real suit of chain mail.

The opposing counsel was a young double-breasted dandy, a “scorched earth, new-age attorney.” His client, the Petitioner, wanted to keep the kids. It would save him money, and besides, he claimed he wasn’t a drunk anymore and he’d removed the female-sleep-over revolving door from his house. And the recent drug arrest? That was a mistake. It was someone else’s dope. This is not going to be pretty, I thought to myself. This fairy tale was going to be grim indeed.

Perhaps old lawyers, like old soldiers, just fade away. If so, Herb, the respondent’s lawyer, was well into the “fade mode.” What was he doing here? Didn’t he know he could get hurt? Not falling down stairs, but from the brutality of legal combat. I felt the need to tell the bar association that someone should have a “well done good-and-faithful servant” talk with Herb.

Behind the coke bottle glasses, Herb’s slightly slurred speech, his prattling manner — between the lines of his brief (typed himself on the Smith Corona he bought right after World War II) — was fire. Not smoke. Not a glow. Not an ember. Not a flame — fire. And when it burned, nothing could withstand the heat, certainly not his slick adversary or the father of the children, paragon of irresponsibility. Quietly Herb maneuvered the petitioner into showing himself for what he really was. Herb scored an octogenarian body slam. The children were returned to their mother’s care.

A month later, when the case was over, the woman was still no sleeping beauty recently awakened. And Herb was still the diminutive old barrister fading like a super nova. He won the day. The children were with the correct parent.

Herb sat in my chambers and we visited. He raised the visor of his helmet. He showed me what was burning. Injustice burned. He spoke to me as an older sailor would speak to a midshipman. The woman had no money to pay a fee. At the time of the divorce she was without work, money to hire a lawyer or a place to live. She gave up custody believing the children’s father, the “bread winner,” could best provide for their children. Then she learned he was using drugs. She tried to correct her mistake but no lawyer would take her case — except Herb. Without a fee, and paid only with a “thank you,” he did for free what others would not: seek to right a wrong. I was humbled as he left my chambers, one small step at a time.

Herb calls me now and then — when his wife, Dee, lets him get to the phone. She knows how he loves to chat (and chat and chat). He still plays golf on his 80-some-year-old legs but he no longer practices law. And when I put down the receiver I never fail to hear the small still voice. It asks, “Where is the fire now? Who will do for those who cannot do for themselves?” I hope there are still lawyers in the world like Herb, and in situations when those in need find their way into my courtroom, I do my best to live up to Herb’s knightly example.

Maybe it was easy for him because “he’d already made his money,” or because “he was from the old school,” or some other excuse. Or maybe Herb just always had the fire inside him. Maybe he was one of those lawyers who always practiced that way: fairness first and let the fee take care of itself.

— Robert DeRechter, esq., Iowa

Submit your own True Story of Chivalry»

Related posts:

1. A Hot Day’s Chivalry
2. At the intersection of love and valor is …The Shieldmaiden
3. Episode 23: Chivalry, Jedi Knights and Star Wars On Trial

My family and I were on a vacation in the mountains. We took the day to spend at a water park for a little rest and relaxation from the burning rays of the sun. My daughter suffers from cerebral palsy and must use a wheelchair to get around. That particular day the heat was intense and her spirits were down. You could see her yearning to have legs that could run and carry her to the cool waters.

There was no reason she couldn’t take the chair into the water. The pool actually held no standing water; it had holes in it that allowed water to burst out at any given moment like Old Faithful. She had sat on the sidelines and watched the other small children her age run through the water with smiles on their faces.

After a few hours of persistence, she agreed to just take her chair to the pool. No more than a minute passed before the smiles came and laughter was ringing from her beautiful face. I just stood back and let her push herself through the surges of water. The only problem was that whenever she went over the holes that were to deliver her the cool water she so desired, there was no water. Her wheelchair was over the holes and she wasn’t getting wet. I didn’t know what to do. Here I had all but got on my knees to beg her to be a part of the fun, like all the other kids, and I knew she was on the verge of tears. I never stopped to think it wouldn’t work with her chair.

Before I could step in to help, a small child beat me to it. First, a little girl no more than 3 years old came, then another, until virtually every child came. What us parents witnessed amazed us all. We could do nothing but stand with tears in our eyes. The children, without ever being prompted, took their little hands, put them into the cool, shooting water, and let their palms be filled. They each walked very slowly so they wouldn’t lose their water over to my daughter in her wheelchair. They stood there in the heat and told my daughter to play with the water in their hands. Repeatedly one by one, they took turns gathering her cool water to play in.

We can decide what the future holds. Do we raise children who have no understanding of helping their fellow neighbor or do we take the time out to be examples? Children repeat what they see!

— Andra Barker, Indiana

Submit your own True Story of Chivalry»

Related posts:

1. A Knight in the Water Tower
2. Wells of Chivalry
3. Chivalry On A Cellular Level

As Ly grew older, a spot of pain followed her, but she can only explain through tears. She has three brothers and one sister — she is the youngest of the family. When she reached 19, all of her siblings were married. Meanwhile, her sister-in-law, Vy secretly hated her because she didn’t want Ly to live in her family and waste food and space. Ly was like another child she had to take care of.

Vy always mistreated Ly by only giving her one bowl of rice a day without any meat or healthy food. No one knew how Ly’s life really was. The smile on her face was just her frown in disguise. Ly was forced to keep her mouth shut because Vy would hit her and deny her stories. Ly’s other siblings would never believe anything could happen to her like that, because when they were around Vy, she was the most kind person in the world. If Ly and Vy were ever together alone in one room, a monster would appear out of Vy.

Every morning, Ly woke up to went to work like a nonstop working machine. She had a busy schedule everyday. After she got home from a hard day at work, she had to mop the floors, and cook meals for everyone in the house and take care of Vy’s son. Ly, sadly, had no friends because Vy kept her busy in the house. Inside, Ly had never given up hope — one day she knew she’d escape this horror and get married to a nice man and have her own family.

One time, her sister’s friend, Ty, came for a visit. When Ty first saw Ly, Ty gave her a big smile, but she looked at him as if he was crazy. For the next few years, Ty secretly loved Ly, but had no courage to ask her. So he went to her brother for permission to marry Ly. Her brother didn’t like Ty so he didn’t want Ly to marry Ty. Ly married Ty anyway; Ly believed that marrying Ty was the only way to get out of the house. When they got married, Ty treated her nicely. Thirty years later Ly had six children. Ly is so happy that her wish came true.

— Nhung Le

Submit your own True Story of Chivalry»

Related posts:

1. Generosity, Over Easy
2. Grandfather’s Love and Courage
3. A Knightly Christmas Gift

When I was two and he was five we went to day care. I have a stuffed bear and he is orange and his name is Puffy. When we were dropped off this one time, Joe went up to his older-kid section that looked down on my younger-kid section. Joe was standing looking at me through the window and saw a kid about my age take Puffy. Joe was downstairs getting my Puffy back in a heartbeat. He pushed the other kid away snatched my Puffy back, gave it to me, and stood in front of me with his hands on his hips saying without words, You want to take her things, you have got to get through me first. Let me tell you, the other kid didn’t try to take my Puffy again.

Another example of him showing loyalty to me is when I was about 10 me and my family went to Ireland. When we were in Ireland we went to the Blarney Castle. In the Blarney Castle you can kiss the Lucky Blarney Stone. To kiss the stone, it is said, you will be blessed with the gift of eloquence, or the gift of gab, so it could be a blessing or a curse. When it was our turn I chickened out. I didn’t like the idea of hanging over the top of a castle as far as I could go with nothing to support me but some metal bars and a man holding my waist. My brother told me it was perfectly fine and I would be all right. He also told me if I didn’t do it I would regret it. So I kissed the Blarney Stone, and my brother is right. If I didn’t kiss it then I would regret it. I am really happy my brother talked me into it. It showed he was looking after me because he wanted me not to regret anything about our vacation.

Sometimes Joe is like a castle with his portcullis down because he doesn’t let people into his world. Sometimes I get scarred for him because if he is always locked up in his own messes and won’t let anyone else know about them then we can’t help him. I would defiantly call him my knight in shining armor. I look up to him so much and hope I am as good as a sister as he is a brother.

— Carolyn Humbert, Indiana

Submit your own True Story of Chivalry»

Related posts:

1. Iron Clad Chivalry
2. Inspired By Nobility
3. Summer Is Knight Time

That night was a pivotal point in my life.

I was physically alone, standing behind the cash register. The crickets sang in harmony – somewhere in the walls, somewhere in the dark night. But I did not, could not, feel their peaceful lullaby. Fear gripped me as it did every night. Jumping at my own shadow, I skittishly made my way across that ocean, the crickets silenced by the thumping of my shoes. After manually shutting off the gas pumps, I quickly headed back to the safety of the empty store to do my last duty of the night. I had to count the money in the cash register.

Back behind the counter, I reached to open the register when the rumble of three motorcycles disrupted the crickets as they crossed the parking lot.

Three young men sauntered into the store. I stood behind the counter, eyeing their movements as they walked along each aisle. The leader took his time. As he walked along, he reached up and sporadically knocked items off the shelves. A can of Campbell’s soup. Premium saltines. A box of Nabisco cookies.

I kept thinking, Please, God, move my hands. I need to call 911. I need to call 911.

My hand moved slowly, cautiously, toward the telephone. My heart pounded, beads of sweat dripped down the nape of my neck.

The gloating trio gathered in front of the cash register; my fingers inches from the receiver.

The leader’s throaty voice garbled over sarcastically curled lips, “Don’t even try it.”

Tears ebbed onto my eyelashes. I was too terrified to move, to breathe, to speak. The leader began to lean forward, his arms hidden beneath the thick leather jacket, his tendrils of fingers reached out for me.

I kept praying, Please, no. Don’t hurt me. God, save me. Please, save me!

Then, a thunderous roar shattered the moment. I looked up and watched a heavy black riding boot kick open the glass doors. The glass shuddered but did not break. I cringed at the site. The tears finally found their escape and rolled down my quivering cheeks. There, at the door, stood the largest man I’d ever seen. He looked at least seven feet tall, but my fear must have exaggerated his height. Stark red hair was as wild as the heavy, free-styled beard. His wide-set shoulders, muscles, and extra folds of skin bulged beneath a worn-out, black tee shirt. He wore a black leather vest with a club patch carefully sewn over the top pocket.

I read that patch and thought, Oh, god, I’m dead now.

The man stepped forward and I blinked the tears out of my eyes – and saw his. The only way I know how to describe them is that they were of the most gracious, celestial blue. He stepped up to the counter, shoving the three aside.

I watched him reach across the counter, his hands as big as my head, “Miss, are you okay?”

Still frozen, still terrified, I nodded yes.

He placed his hand on my right shoulder. He didn’t smile or frown; his voice steady and deep, “Don’t worry.”

I stared at him. I looked from his eyes to his hand on my shoulder, back to his eyes.

The being, whether angelic or human, was my miracle from God.

The next thing I remember, I was standing behind that counter — alone in an empty store. It was around midnight. The lights over the gas pumps buzzed and flickered. Was it all a dream? I stepped from behind the counter and walked up and down the aisles. I picked up a can of Campbell’s soup, now dented from its demise. I took both hands and carefully placed the box of Premium crackers back on the shelf. The Nabisco cookies joined the others.

I wasn’t afraid anymore. I was grateful. I stood there and thanked God for the miracle.

For the one who saved me — whoever you are, wherever you are — thank you.

To all the heroes, all the ones who silently carry the code of chivalry, you remind us that it is far from dead.

— Denise Broussard, Texas

Submit your own True Story of Chivalry»

Related posts:

1. Great Expectations: Chivalry In Tomorrow’s Knights
2. Pizza and Inspiration for Navy Seaman Recruits
3. A Knight in the Water Tower

Coping with disabilities to pursue active lives resembles a daily war fought on many fronts. Like the knights of the Round Table, Curt is prepared to achieve small victories with instant displays of personal valor. When we go to restaurants or stores, a common reaction from servers and clerks is to ask Curt what we will eat or buy. He bravely responds, “They are paying the bill with money earned from their college degrees. Don’t ask me. Ask them.”

Curt does his job for a fraction of what he could earn as a hospital or nursing pool professional. He repeatedly illustrates the chivalrous trait of charity by taking two and three other jobs to supplement our meager wages. Frankly, those other jobs have been sacrificed when it is necessary to exhibit the depth of his charity toward us.

Curt puts a human face on the idea that a married couple with disabilities is capable of running a home and small business while maintaining relationships with friends and family. That philosophy was set in granite the day my wife’s father died. While she left with her aunts to grieve at the family home, I phoned Curt, who instantly said, “I’ll call the nursing pool and cancel my commitments for the week. I’m available 24/7.”

Curt lost $300-$400 in wages by making this commitment. He earned our lasting loyalty by placing me in a position to greet mourners at the visitation and permitting our physical needs not to disrupt our family’s grieving process. Curt’s deep sense of loyalty amazes us daily. When we improved our office by moving to a smaller town, Curt moved even though he commutes several miles for other jobs.

Many medieval knights mastered implements of war. In his modern capacity, Curt masters the implements of our war against immobility. On any specific day, he is instantly required to fill wheelchair tires with air, check the water level in power chair batteries, mount portable ramps, or transport wheelchairs or computers for repair. For the able bodied sports fan, the best example of a modern knight without a horse is a football player. Athletes entertain crowds for six-figure salaries. Curt Preston sustains our community life and deserves a six-figure salary.

— William Karr, Illinois

Submit your own True Story of Chivalry»

Related posts:

1. Sacrifices and Courage
2. Chivalry and the Cowboy Code
3. My Approach to Chivalry Today

The two of us were deep inside the ship when my regulator failed and I began having trouble breathing. I flashed my light and indicated the problem to my partner using hand signals. The proper protocol in such a situation is for both divers to share the working regulator (passing it back and forth between them) and return immediately to the surface. But, as I came toward my partner and reached for his breathing apparatus, he panicked. He told me (later) that he thought I was going to overpower him and take away his breathing gear to save myself, so he fled the ship and left me alone. Without help, I literally had less than a minute to live.

Luckily, I found another diving group nearby inside the ship. I frantically indicated my distress and a woman in that group passed me her regulator. Then the two of us (along with one other diver) returned to the surface safely.

Needless to say, I won’t be diving with my “diving buddy” ever again — he lost his nerve in a crisis situation. The woman who came to my rescue, on the other hand, had no way of knowing if I would calmly follow the rules of safe diving or panic and endanger the whole group, but she had the courage to do the chivalrous thing and help a stranger in distress deep under the ocean.

— Matthew Brown, California

Submit your own True Story of Chivalry»

Related posts:

1. Knight vs. Pirate
2. He Doesn’t Look Like A Knight
3. A Humble Knight

This particular park had more than its share of police calls, but usually things were pretty quiet on a Sunday afternoon. This particular afternoon, however, things got interesting, and in a hurry. I happened to glance to one side and noticed a car swerving, quite recklessly, through the parking lot, and at a high rate of speed. I quickly realized that it was heading right toward us, and that most of the people were unaware of the danger as the car was coming up from behind them.

Right behind the speeding vehicle was a police car, which was going even faster, as it appeared to be catching up to them. Within seconds the fleeing car hit a concrete curb at the edge of the parking lot and stopped. It was now in a position slightly to one side, and directly behind us. As the police car’s doors flew open, two police officers jumped out with their guns drawn. They were pointing at the suspects in the car, and — indirectly — at us!

I had a good view of what was happening, as I was looking in the opposite direction of most of the people there. I walked out of the line-of-fire, shouting, “Get out of the way.” But, at first, no one moved. Such things happen very quickly, and it takes time for people to process what is really going on, especially when it is outside of the norm.

A few people realized the danger they were in and started to move. Others stayed where they were, watching the police officers, perhaps not realizing that we were in a position where we might be unintentionally shot from misses or ricochets. Since yelling, “Get out of the way,” didn’t seem to work, I began to shout simply “gun!” That seemed to get people’s attention.

Then I saw a lady who had been walking across the field perform an act which was as brave and chivalrous as any I have ever witnessed. She had her baby with her. When she perceived what was happening, she simply turned around, sat down, her back to danger, and cradled her child with her own body. When the officers got the situation under control, she simply stood up with her child still in her arms and calmly walked off the field, as though nothing had happened.

Luckily for everyone involved, no shots were fired. The suspects came out of the car without a fight and were immediately handcuffed and taken to jail.

In a few minutes the whole thing was over, but that lady’s valiant act has stayed with me. Her quiet courage and selflessness (a dramatic example of values familiar to most parents) reinforced for me the importance of the virtues of chivalry. Courage, honor, faith and protection of the helpless are not only aspects of medieval chivalry, but are, and should always be, alive in the modern world as well.

Chivalry can be a modern goal and a lifestyle. Its values are worthwhile, and alive today; but they are not always obvious. Those who try to live by chivalry today will not always be wearing a suit of shining armor.

— Michael Cady, Arizona

Submit your own True Story of Chivalry»

Related posts:

1. A Humble Knight
2. Chivalry and the Tow Truck Driver
3. Shocks and Chivalry

She stopped, looked at me rather incredulously, and said in a stern voice, “Don’t hold the door for me because I’m a woman!”

I didn’t want to insult her, so I explained, “I’m not. I’m holding the door because I’m a gentleman.” Then I offered her a smile and continued standing there.

That concept caught her by surprise. She stood there for a couple of seconds struggling for words, then I think she understood the difference between patronization and respect. She politely said “Thank you,” and continued into the store.

I would like to think that, for one person, I was able to demonstrate that Chivalry is not dead.

— Tracey Gillaspy, Kansas

Submit your own True Story of Chivalry»

Related posts:

1. A Flourish in the Desert
2. The Lion and the Otter
3. Chivalry Wrapped in Curses

The woman said, “I have nothing, I have no money, and I can’t pay you.”

But the nurse insisted, “I can’t give you your medicine until you’ve paid.”

The woman began to cry. She obviously had no money and didn’t know what to do.

The situation nearly broke my heart. I didn’t even think twice before starting to root through my purse. I was going to give the poor woman the twenty-dollar bill I had just taken of my account that morning, because she clearly needed it more than I did. Before I could, however, the nurse told her, “Wait here, I’ll go ask my boss what we can do.”

A minute later the nurse returned with a hand-written IOU note, and she told the woman she could pay on her next visit. I have to say, I was relieved, because even though I could have given her my lunch money, seeing the nurse’s willingness to help made me feel really good. She took a chance on that lady never coming back to pay her, and I applaud her for that choice. She could have just turned her away and told her to come back with the money if she wanted her medicine.

Chivalry isn’t dead, it just happens behind closed doors in small ways that no one ever hears about.

— Becky Pronia, Missouri

Submit your own True Story of Chivalry»

Related posts:

1. A Knightly Christmas Gift
2. Really Good Iced Tea
3. A Knight in Scuba Gear

It happened several years ago when I was on vacation. I was staying in a large hotel just outside the French quarter in New Orleans. Little did I know there was a huge convention of some kind coming into town on the day I was leaving. The convention center was just a block away, and when I got down to the lobby to check out, it was total chaos. Hundreds of high-powered business executives were trying to get checked in, and the staff was totally swamped. It took me about half an hour to get checked out, mostly because none of these VPs and sales reps had any time or patience for some lazy guy on vacation.

Unfortunately, when I got to my car in the hotel parking lot, I found that the battery was dead. I had left the headlights on all night. I tried waving to a few passing cars in the lot, but everyone was too wrapped up in getting to the convention. The drivers completely ignored me.

Finally, I went back to see if I could get one of the clerks or bellmen to call a tow truck. As I was shouting to be heard over all the hubbub in the lobby and explain my situation to the person at the desk, I felt a hand on my shoulder. A guy wearing a very nice suit said that he would take care of the problem.

We went down to the parking lot, he brought his car over and got mine started with his jumper cables in just a few minutes. It was only when he got out to disconnect the cables that I noticed the little gold name tag hanging from his jacket read, “Hotel General Manager.”

I guess he had just been walking by the desk and heard me asking for help. I’m sure his yearly salary was probably more than I’ll make in my whole life, and there were probably a dozen overworked employees he could have ordered to take on the dirty job of giving my car a jump, but he did it himself. He didn’t make a big deal about his title or his position, he just came to the aid of a stranger in need, and that is chivalry. He’ll always have my respect and thanks.

— Dave Mendoza, Arizona

Submit your own True Story of Chivalry»

Related posts:

1. A Knight in the Band
2. Shocks and Chivalry
3. Chivalry, Terrorism and Knights in Shining Armor at Ground Zero

My good friend Ashlee made a joke about the butter and how it was served. (It was in ball form, for anyone who is curious.) It caused everyone at my table (all freshman) to laugh uproariously. I was laughing so hard my face was red and I proceeded to accidentally tip my chair backwards with myself still in it and hit the floor with a loud bang.

The dining room suddenly became awkwardly silent for what seemed like an eternity. Then the whole dining room erupted in laughter at my fall, except for the cute band guy sitting at the adjacent table. He then yelled, “Hey guys, it’s not that funny. Stop laughing,” and proceed to help me off the floor and upright my chair when he could have just sat there with his friends and laugh and point at my humiliating moment in band history.

My knight in shining armor showed me that my perceptions of him were wrong and that he would lend a helping hand to those who need it and wishes no one to get hurt. He may have gone against what the popular thing to do at the moment, but he did the right thing by not humiliating me anymore than what I was, and for that I escaped that moment without being embarrassed because one of the cutest guys in the band was a knight and helped a damsel in distress.

— Amanda Starr, Georgia

Submit your own True Story of Chivalry»

Related posts:

1. “Curb Your Tongue, Knave!”
2. Generosity, Over Easy
3. Tara the Chivalrous Watchdog

My dad worked for one of the many aircraft manufacturers as a sheet-metal mechanic. His lead man was somewhat of an “Archie Bunker” type (a flamer of the first magnitude).

When the civil rights movement was in its infancy my dad would frequently come home complaining of the insensitivity of his boss to “people of color.” When the governor of Arkansas did his historical little dance, my dad got fed up, spending half a week’s pay calling his U.S. Congressman and two U.S. Senators — person-to-person, long distance in D.C. He also quit the job he had had for 10 years, the job that paid our rent and put food on the table, because of the racist rantings of his boss-man.

His reasoning was something like: “I sacrificed a lot to come to the one country on the planet that offers hope. I fought in a war to free all people from the tyranny of small minds. I’ll be damned if I’ll allow another small mind to control any aspect of my life.”

My dad did not find another job for about 18 months. Those months were rough for us both, but we made it.

For his unwavering belief in life, liberty and justice for all and the courage of his convictions I always admired my old man, in spite of his flaws. He died a hard and lonely death in a flop house in San Francisco 10 years later, but, in my humble opinion, he died a knight is shining armor.

— John Fredricks, Maj. USAF (ret.), Virginia

Submit your own True Story of Chivalry»

Related posts:

1. The Lion and the Otter
2. Grandfather’s Love and Courage
3. A Flourish in the Desert

Fortunately, AAA sent an emergency road service technician to help me from a nearby towing service. His name was Bill, and he was a man of both outstanding professionalism and chivalry. I am grateful that he was the one to respond to the call. Not only was Bill an absolute gentleman, he was extra kind and considerate at a time when I was most vulnerable.

He also had to wait for nearly an hour so the California Highway Patrol could interview everyone, and he even offered to buy a juice for me while I waited. He never complained and, in fact, showed a gentle sense of humor.

He also patiently explained service options to me that I was having a hard time considering because I was so rattled. Then Bill towed my wreck 50 miles. After he delivered it, he unloaded the car for me because he realized (when I hadn’t) that I’d probably never see my books and belongings again if he didn’t remove them from my open, unlockable car. When he was finished with this job, his shift had already ended and he was almost two hours from his home, but he didn’t complain about that, either.

— Anne Cox, California

Submit your own True Story of Chivalry»

Related posts:

1. Generosity, Over Easy
2. New Millennium Round Table
3. Pizza and Inspiration for Navy Seaman Recruits

Of course, while I had a lot of pride in my new career in the Navy, what I didn’t have was a lot of money. As a Seaman Recruit, I couldn’t afford to go out to one of those fancy restaurants — in fact, I just barely had enough to get a pizza and go to a movie with two of the new friends I had met during basic training.

So, the three of us were standing in line at the restaurant, chattering like a bunch of wide-eyed kids, and wondering if could pull together enough spare change to get sausage and mushrooms on the pizza, or if that would leave us short of cash for our movie tickets. As we were counting our pennies, we heard a voice from behind us in line say, “Get whatever you want, fellows. It’s on me.”

We all turned around and saw a very nice lady looking at us with a sort of amused smile. She put down a $20 bill at the cash register and said, “Dinner’s on me.”

I was sort of stunned, and I’m sure my friends were too. As much as I wanted to let her buy dinner for all of us, I said, “Thank you ma’am, but I can’t let you do that.”

Then she said some words I don’t think I’ll ever forget. “You guys are getting ready to go to work to keep our country safe. Think of this as my down payment for your service.”

I thought of that woman many times throughout my enlistment in the Navy — her words that night were my inspiration to muddle through more than a few difficult, scary and unpleasant situations. She probably thought she was buying us dinner because she wanted us to know that we were heroes in her eyes. I wonder if she realized that her small act of gratitude made her our knight in shining armor?

— Paul Lin, California

Submit your own True Story of Chivalry»

Related posts:

1. Chivalry in War and Peace
2. My Heart on the Line

This day in particular, I noticed a big stake-bed truck driving along with an advertisement for a local tree trimming service on the side. I’m sure it was full of cuttings and branches, and was on its way to deposit them in the landfill. It was a typical landscaping service vehicle: The truck looked like it had a lot of miles on it, and like the entrepreneur owner was far too busy with his business to worry about regular maintenance.

Then, up ahead, I saw a large bag of garbage on the shoulder of the road. The bag had obviously fallen off of one of the many vehicles taking trash to the dump. It had split open when it hit the ground, leaving an ugly pile of household trash on the roadside.

As I drove along, I was surprised to see the gardening truck slow down, then stop, then in my rearview mirror I saw the crew of gardeners scramble out and start to collect the trash, tossing it all into the back of their truck.

This struck me as a particularly noble and generous thing to do. Most people would certainly have sped right by the trash spill, assuming someone else would pick it up. Most small business owners would certainly have claimed they didn’t have time to fix someone else’s mess. But these gardeners saw something they could do to help, regardless of the fact that there was no profit in it for them and that the job would doubtlessly be an unpleasant one. They screeched to a stop and took responsibility for something that wasn’t their responsibility. If that’s not chivalry, I don’t know what is!

— Martin Overton, Oregon

Submit your own True Story of Chivalry»

Related posts:

1. Wave to the Trash Man
2. Chivalry on the Interstate
3. No Such Thing As "Chivalry Blues"