A Different Kind of Hero

I grew up in a small town in Ohio. Through a series of life events and choices, I eventually found my way to the wonderful Southern New Mexico town of Silver City. I'll get back to that in a minute, but first, let me tell you a little about my upbringing in Ohio.

We were poor. I didn't know it then, but after Dad died, my brother and I went through his tax returns (Mom never threw anything away!). He never made more than $16,000 in any year. Yet we always had a roof over our heads, two working vehicles (never new, but always functional), food on the table, and money for that baseball glove my brother or I absolutely had to have.

As boys, it was easy for us to have heroes. There were athletes we wanted to emulate on the ballfield, and defended these heroes to our friends, who, of course, defended theirs.

Somewhere along the way, my mother sat us down and explained, "Be careful who you choose to be your heroes. Sometimes they won't measure up to your expectations when you meet them."

You know, she was right.

Over the years, scandal and shame have followed so many of the athletes and performers we once called heroes that it became difficult to see them as anything more than human beings – flawed and imperfect, just like the rest of us. I left those heroes behind long ago.

Then I came to Silver City and met a man who caught my attention.

My family had opened a Domino's Pizza, and this man came in to pick up pizzas several times. He always ended every transaction with the same words: "Bless you." If you've ever been a business owner, you know you can use every blessing you can get!

Time passed and I went to work for PNM. During those years my interactions with him always ended with the same parting words: "Bless you!"

After I retired, a personal issue arose in our family that required help from a state agency. He connected us with the right people to get the problem addressed. As I stood to leave, he reached out his large right hand to shake mine, looked me in the eyes, and said, "Bless you! Let me know if you need help in the future." For the first time in a week, I believed things were going to be okay.

Over the next year, I encountered this gentleman at various Chamber and social events around Silver City. His greeting was always the same: "How's your family? Everybody doing okay? God bless you!"

With each encounter, my respect grew.

Late in 2024, he asked me to work alongside him to make our community better for people who needed help. There was no discussion of race, color, or political party. None of that mattered. If someone needed help, we would do our very best to find it.

I have worked alongside him for two years now, and his commitment to this community has never wavered.

I've ridden in vehicles with him while he received calls from people in tears because someone they cared about had a need they couldn't afford to meet. I've watched him get to work before the caller has even finished explaining the problem. He knows who to call and how to get things moving. Sometimes, he simply makes things happen himself, often sacrificing his own resources or time with his family. He doesn't seem to need recognition. He just sees someone who needs help and gets to work.

As I reflect, my definition of a hero has changed over the years. This man is the kind of person that I want to be. Someone who shows up when needed. Someone who is genuinely concerned about the wellbeing of others and who will serve his community without expecting compensation for the time he gives. Perhaps most importantly, someone that has made me take a look at my life and try to be more Godly and Giving- that is who I want to emulate.

My mother warned me that the people we admire might disappoint us when we get to know them. She was right about that, too. But every once in a while, someone proves the opposite: the more you get to know a person, the more you respect them.

That brings me to Luis Terrazas.

I respected Luis before I ever worked alongside him. After two years of watching him quietly and consistently serve the people he loves, I respect him even more. My admiration isn't based on what he says about himself, but on what I have watched him do for others, time and time again.

So, Luis, it's my turn to say it: God bless you and may He guide you on the path you have chosen. It's an honor to watch you do your work.

Bruce Ashburn,
Longtime Silver City Resident