No capes, just purpose 

There’s an expression that alludes to ordinary people doing great things that goes, not all heroes wear capes. While the message of the saying is nice, there is something that nags at me almost every day when I stop and think. 

Why are there no superheroes? We see Bruce Wayne, a wealthy individual who became Batman to fight crime. Another example is Oliver Queen, who is not as rich, but still fights crime as Green Arrow. We can also point out Tony Stark, who became Iron Man and uses all his money to gear his mission of doing his part to save the world. 

Yes, these are fictional characters but in reality, according to Forbes, there are 130 people who have amassed between $334.5 billion and $16.4 billion dollars, and we don’t hear any real-life stories of superheroes. 

Secret identities are fine, and we don’t need to know who they are, but it would be nice if any one of these billionaires would consider saving the world comic book style. I’ve long thought the world was overdue for a superhero. 

Interestingly enough, the Ledger received an anonymous letter asking for a journalist who was willing to listen and ultimately write an unbelievable story. 

The following script is from an interview which the anonymous person had with the Ledger. 

J.A. Aleman: Why did you want to tell your story now? 

Anonymous: (dramatically places hand on chest) Because I’m done working in the shadows. I’ve been out there making a difference but no one’s asking why. I have a mask, tech and money, but no one can see the reason. I’m here to clear that up. 

J.A. Aleman: Are you the richest person in the world? 

Anonymous: (laughs confidently) You know I can’t answer that. 

J.A. Aleman: But you are wealthy, aren’t you? 

Anonymous: (chuckling) The short answer is yes. I don’t see anyone being able to do what I’m doing without financial stability. 

J.A. Aleman: What exactly is it that you’re doing? 

Anonymous: (flashing a smile) I’m building a safety net—the kind I never had. I want shelters, crisis teams and emergency response units looking out for kids slipping through the cracks when the system fails. 

J.A. Aleman: But then, why the mask? 

Anonymous: (with dramatic flair) That’s to keep the bad guys guessing. And let’s be honest, dramatic entrances are way cooler with a mask. Don’t you think? Plus, it’d be nice to stay out of any scandals with the IRS, if you know what I mean. 

J.A. Aleman: I suppose that’s a way to look at it. Who are the bad guys then? 

Anonymous: Oh, you know, the usual: human traffickers, scam artists, people who think it’s okay to use kids as pawns. Not on my watch. Maybe it would be best if I tried to explain my own story. Maybe you’ll understand then. 

J.A. Aleman: Please, that’s why I’m here. 

Anonymous: (flashes a wink) Nothing of what I’m about to say is public knowledge or published anywhere. You’re the first person to hear my real story. 

J.A. Aleman: I’m honored. Please continue. 

Anonymous: My parents died when I was around 5 and even though they were well off, there were no close relatives. 

J.A. Aleman: Did you end up in an orphanage? 

Anonymous: I was in foster care for a while before some long-lost aunt was found. After that, I was left in her care. 

J.A. Aleman: A different type of happily ever after I see. 

Anonymous: Way different. There was no happily to include to the ever after. 

J.A. Aleman: What happened to your aunt then? 

Anonymous: She kept me for a time. Then one day she took me to a park, seated me on a bench and said, “Wait here.” She disappeared and I haven’t seen or heard from her since. 

J.A. Aleman: How long did you wait for her? 

Anonymous: I just waited. I befriended some pigeons and even gave them names. People passed by but no one seemed to care. No one stopped to ask if I was alright or if I was alone. 

J.A. Aleman: Did you ever find out why your aunt did that? 

Anonymous: (smirking beneath the mask) I assume it’s because none of the money my parents left behind would go to her. I sat there long enough to memorize cracks in the sidewalk and develop an existential crisis. 

J.A. Aleman: With this being close to April 1, some people could think it’s all a joke or some prank. They could even say you’re a basket case. 

Anonymous: (huffs) I wouldn’t joke about this. Theres nothing funny about feeling abandoned. 

J.A. Aleman: Is there a way for people to reach you? For example, a bat signal or something? 

Anonymous: (aggressively) You think this is a comic book or something? This is real life we’re talking about. 

J.A. Aleman: How will people know it’s you? 

Anonymous: They can meet me in a couple weeks. That’s when I’ll be making my official debut to the world on top of the Tacoma Dome. Prepare for all the superhero drama your eyes can take. 

J.A. Aleman: Will that be your “I am Iron Man” moment? 

Anonymous: (grins beneath the mask) In a way, yes. But my costume is not for fame. It’s to make a statement. And no, I won’t give away my identity. But when I show up, you’ll know. I’m in it for all the kids sitting on park benches befriending the pigeons. 

J.A. Aleman: You handed me a manila envelope before we started recording. What’s in it? 

Anonymous: It’s concept art for my superhero persona. Feel free to pick what you’d like and display it with this interview. 

J.A. Aleman: What’s something you want our readers to take away from this interview? 

Anonymous: (points at himself with his thumb) This isn’t about being a hero for me. This is about making sure no kid ever sits on a park bench wondering if they’ve been forgotten. That’s what real heroes do.