April 1998
A little less than a year ago, I drove up from Seaford to Milford on a mission to find a good pair of shoes for prom. My date to that prom was Rachel Lorenz, a wonderful girl whom I had met that spring. When I met her that afternoon as she got out of school, she was in a rush. "David, I've got to work at the barn today, but we can head out when Linda gets here. Until then, the house is open. Nobody's home, but go and relax."
"You sure?"
"Of course, don't you remember? Dad's house is a refuge for all of my friends. We always leave the door open."
So I drove up to her house and brought my books into the kitchen to study. This was my second time in her house. The first, several weeks before, I had met her father and gotten a taste of his gourmet cooking. An hour passed. Mr. Lorenz came home.
"Hi David."
That's it.
I pondered: "Wait a minute. Let's say I was in his position - I come home to an empty house except for a boy sitting at my kitchen table who I've met all of once before. And here he is, sitting in my kitchen, alone."
This was when I first got the indication of how wonderful Rachel's dad really is. Of all of the people I know, I have come to look up to Mr. Lorenz the most.
Mr. Lorenz has become well known in his field. He is the co-founder of Thresholds, one of the major state-funded substance abuse clinics in Delaware. He serves as chairman of the national board on substance abuse counselor certification, and as an advisor to Governor Carper. Mr. Lorenz is a gourmet chef.
I look up to Mr. Lorenz not for what he does outside the home, however, but what I have seen when I have been at his house. There is no one attribute that makes him heroic to me, but all those things that are an essential part of his personality; all those parts of him that reflect to me the best qualities of humanity. He is one of the best fathers I know, and has an uncanny ability to understand people without being judgmental. When Rachel got into her second accident, her dad didn't ground her, but, with only her own safety first in mind, put her on driving restriction. He loves his children deeply and looks out for their protection without imposing unreasonable restrictions.
He has a quiet, and humble air about him that makes him easy to approach, and he has an inner warmth and genuine caring for others that I have rarely seen in anyone. When I've needed someone to talk to, Mr. Lorenz has always been willing to listen, and when I have wanted to attack the philosophical problems of the world, he has often given me insights into the nature of the human psyche that amaze me.
One Tuesday night this spring, at about 11:30, one of his patients came knocking, very timidly, at his front door. I was in the living room, visiting with Rachel, and saw his response. Instead of clinging to his bed and sending his patient away, he got up as quickly as he could and talked with her until one a.m.
Mr. Lorenz gives of himself without with no reservation. He looks out for others first, and he is never bitter. He seems interminably ready to forgive. Mr. Lorenz simply continues with the same care, the same understanding, and the same inner warmth that makes him the man he is.
Mr. Lorenz has what is truly important: he has a humble, genuine, unfading and unreserved human goodness. Though he has attained some notoriety, he is driven not by some insatiable drive for influence or power, but by his genuine care for others. This is why I pick Bruce Lorenz as my personal hero.