On diner heroes and highway villains

I saw it first outside the bathroom at a 24-hour truck stop diner. It was written in yellow across the top of a poster.

“EVERY GENERATION HAS ITS HEROES. THIS ONE IS NO DIFFERENT.”

The rest of the large poster was covered with a grainy photograph of a man’s profile, his helmet and fatigues identifying him as a soldier. And there, in the bottom corner, was the familiar yellow logo of the United States Army.

The context in which I found the word “hero” was certainly not what one thinks of as heroic. The smoky diner was filled with ageing men whose tight t-shirts covered their sagging bellies, their hats covering thinning gray hair. The servers were all women with tired brows and lipstick a few shades too bright. Aside from this restaurant, the small Washington town had two gas stations, a church, and ramps on and off the interstate highway. The sign was posted in a prominent location near the front door so that anyone walking out the bathroom or towards the Instant Keno lottery machine would see it.

At first, the word struck me as out of place. It was almost mocking in this place filled as it was with monotony and functionality. Surely, the people in this restaurant were not the target market for those seeking to replenish the American army with healthy young soldiers. It seemed unfair to confront these hungry truckers, cash-strapped travellers, and unglamorous employees with a word whose connotations call to mind fairy tales, Hollywood epics, and ticker-tape parades. Yet, perhaps this diner, with its humdrum normalcy, was just the place to conjure images of heroism. The poster was an advertisement for the United States Army, but perhaps its purpose was not simply recruitment. It was displayed on the wall not as a paid advertisement, but as decoration. The person who placed the poster on the wall must have seen something in it beyond the functional purpose of promoting the Army.

The poster’s caption announces that this generation has heroes. By referring to

“this generation,” the poster suggests an implied “that generation.” The grainy photograph confirms that this is nostalgically invoking the generation of World War II soldiers. The power of this imagery stems from the common understanding that WWII was a war of mythical proportions, where heroes and villains were easily distinguished by the insignia on their fighter planes and the shape of their helmets. The stories of that time continue to be breathlessly told in epic films and insurance ads, reality making way for legend with every tale of heroism and tragedy on the front lines.

Use of the word 'hero' signals this transition from the world of reality to the world of myth. Heroes are more than people who do great things; like the soldier frozen in black and white on the poster, heroes exist outside of our time. They belong to a world of good and bad, far from our reality of morality, mistakes, and shades of grey.

Compared to the legendary "good old days" of WW II, our world is marked by ambiguity. The "bad guys" don't wear helmets anymore, and every "good guy" seems to have a skeleton in the closet. Tales of military massacres and soldier abuse have marred the myth of the iconic Soldier.

The poster effectively sterilises the concepts of soldier and of war. By obscuring the distinguishing facial features of the man in the photograph and covering him in military uniform, the poster moves from indexical to iconic, no longer presenting a man but rather an abstract soldier. Further, by associating the image nostalgically with a bygone era and using the god-term 'hero', the poster can also be seen as operating symbolically. It does not show us a soldier, but rather the Soldier — a figure that embodies goodness, purity, and sacrifice.

In this uncertain reality, the power evokes that mythical world of certainty, where good and evil are easily distinguished, and bravery and conviction are the true mark of the soldier. It reassures the viewer, inviting them to believe that heroes can and do exist.

The second time I saw the word "hero" was soon after I pulled back onto the interstate highway. It was a green sign posted beside the High Occupancy Vehicle lane

— a traffic lane for cars with two or more riders. It read,

"REPORT HOV MISCONDUCT. CALL 764-HERO."

Again, I was struck by the incongruous context in which this word was employed.

This time, the sign "hero" seems considerably more distanced from the usual connotations of war and battle.

Ostensibly, the purpose of the sign was to allow motorists to report of fellow drivers that appear to be violating the HOV restrictions. If a driver sees another driver moving in the HOV lane without at least one passenger, this sign allows them to alert the authorities to this offence. Use of the word "hero" seems to designate this as an act of heroism.

However, the road sign functions in an equally complex way as before. The sign is the only one posted alongside the highway demanding proper HOV lane use. Rather than asking drivers to obey the traffic laws, the sign seems to assume that some drivers will do so. It would seem appropriate to indicate potential punishment for violation of the traffic law, warning drivers against breaking the law. Yet, the sign does not address the potential HOV violators; instead, it indicates a reward for those responsible drivers who not only obey the law but also help authorities enforce it. Their reward is not money but elevation to the rank of "hero."

In a way, the sign creates a framework for understanding the HOV traffic law. It does not suggest that obeying the law is heroic, but rather that heroism comes from contributing to the punishment of criminals. The hero can only exist in contrast to the villain. Asking a driver, isolated in the world of their car, to simply obey a law seeks to draw upon that person's personal sense of righteousness. However, in indicating that the driver can be a "hero," it places them in a framework that pits rule-breaking villains against law-abiding heroes. The driver is not asked the obey the law but to choose their side in the battle of good and evil being acted out on the interstate highway.

When people are presented with the word "hero," they are invited to see the world as one of moral transparency. It creates a framework of understanding that merges reality with myth, isolating and condensing complex, everyday life into simple binaries of good and evil, heroes and villains. Authorities wanting to encourage compliance with their laws can employ this tactic. Yet in some situations, such as with the poster in the diner, it is not a perspective imposed by overt force but by choice.