Other Miscellaneous Superman Stuff

Superman on Earth

18. Superman Meets the Lone Ranger

In the same nursing home where my mother lived, there lived a man named Dave. He'd been one of the heroes of the highway, pushing snow and spreading salt for Penn-DOT. He'd always been a smiling bear of a man. When I met Dave, however, the super-villain Stroke had been at him - and at him and at him. Once he'd steered a big truck. Now he worked the lever on the church's wheelchair elevator. He sat on a folding chair near the door and waited his chance to work that lever. Dave's strength had left him, but his smile never did.

Eventually, however, even that small task was taken from him. Getting him dressed and transported had become too great a task for Carol, his wife. Living at home had become problematic at best. So Dave went to Rolling Fields. I used to visit him in the afternoons. Sometimes I'd sit with Carol and him and play Bingo with the other residents. Dave's mind tended to wander, so we had to help him a bit. After the game, I'd wheel him back to his room. A couple times I helped him from his wheelchair to his real chair. This feat not only took some strength but some fancy footwork as well. We looked like Smokey the Bear and his cousin Yogi slow dancing at the prom!

Dave was a tremendous fan of the Cleveland Browns. He also liked westerns. One of his favorite western heroes was the one he called "The Long Ranger," AKA the Lone Ranger. I told Dave that I liked the Ranger but that my big hero was Superman. Dave allowed that he liked Superman too, just not as much as he did the Long Ranger. Thus was the seed of an idea dropped into the fertile soil of my mind.

Not long after this, I learned that Dave's family was planning a little birthday party for him at the nursing home. I spoke with one of Dave's step-daughters and told her I wanted to drop by with a surprise for Dave. She was delighted that I wanted to take part in the event and promised not to say anything to her step-dad. What I didn't tell her or anybody else, though, was what exactly I had in mind.

I'd briefly considered appearing at the party as the Lone Ranger, but finding a suitable costume proved more difficult than I'd thought. I still had my Superman outfit, though. Since a bird in the hand is worth a plane in the sky, I decided to go as the Man of Steel. But I felt the need to do something that would at least suggest the presence of the Lone Ranger. Then it hit me. Of course, silver bullets!

But do you know how hard it is to find silver bullets? I hunted several stores before I found what I was looking for - a toy sheriff kit containing guns-in-holsters, a badge, small canteen, and four silver bullets sheathed in a black plastic cartridge holder. I had no idea what I'd do with the other stuff, but it didn't matter. The Long Ranger rides again - courtesy the Man of Steel!

That brisk November evening, I entered Rolling Fields dressed in jacket and jeans, with a bill cap on my head and a brief case in my hand. I entered the restroom and opened the case. Inside was my Superman suit. It had been a couple years since I'd last had it on and, sorry to say, it didn't fit quite as well as before. But, as Shakespeare said, the play's the thing. So I sucked in my gut, stuck on my cape, and struck for the other end of the long hall. In the social room, Dave's party had already begun.

As I exited the bathroom, I passed the dining hall. A young female employee leaned against the door. Her eyes widened when she saw me. I greeted her with a jaunty salute, "Hi!" "H-hi!" she said. I chugged on up the hall, building steam. Earlier, I'd contacted the stepdaughter with whom I'd spoken earlier, telling her what I meant to do. I'd told her to be on the lookout for me and what to say when she saw me coming: "It's a bird! It's a plane! It's - Superman!"

She performed beautifully. Superman, however, didn't. I leaped into the room, hit the floor, and skidded almost out from under myself! But no matter! The few family members present laughed and applauded. Dave and Carol lit up.

Quickly recovering my bearing, I strode over to the couple and said something like, "Greetings, Dave, on your natal anniversary! Now I know that Superman's not your greatest hero, but I know who is. Unfortunately, he couldn't be here because he's been dead a long time! But time is no obstacle to me! I simply flew faster than the speed of light and went back in time, then traveled west. Eventually, I looked below and, there on the plain, I saw a masked man and an Indian arguing:

"Tonto, go to town!"

"Oh, no, Kemosabe! Not me!

"Now, listen, you're my faithful Indian companion and you've gotta go to town for me!"

"I'm not going to town! Every time I go to town I get beat up! You go to town!"

Superman resumed his narrative. "So, while these two were arguing, at super-speed, I plucked a few bullets from the masked man's cartridge belt. Then I flew back through time with them. Here you are, Dave, from your hero, the Lone Ranger, your very own...silver bullets!"

More laughter and applause. Dave and Carol were eating it up.

"But I have one more thing, and it's for you both." I'd hidden this second gift between my belt and cape. Reaching behind me, I removed the certificate I'd made and read it to the couple: "Having displayed great courage in the face of great adversity, heroic endurance through suffering, and mighty love in everything, Dave and Carol Williams are hereby inducted, with honors, into the Kryptonian Society of the Supermen and Women of America!" The certificate was gold card stock adorned with fancy font and a Shuster sketch of Superman. I handed it to Dave and Carol.

My work there was done. So I bade the couple farewell and rushed from the room. At the other end of the hall, I once again passed the female employee. This time she was talking with another girl. I smiled and waved at both. Then I went into the bathroom to change back to mild-mannered Gary Robinson. The pie looked good and I wanted to have a piece with the family. When I returned to the social room, Dave and Carol called me Superman, but I feigned ignorance. No need to, of course; I was only joking and they knew it. After all, how could anybody in that room believe Superman and I weren't one and the same person?

And yet, outside that room, down the hall, there were a couple young ladies who were rather confused about my identity. As I left the party, I stopped by the restroom where I'd left my briefcase. I went inside. I could hear voices, slightly muffled, in the next room. I put my ear to the wall and listened. The exchange went something like this:

"That was him, wasn't it - Superman?"

"No, that wasn't him. Superman was bigger."

"It sure looked like him."

"No, that wasn't Superman. Superman was somebody else."

"Well, where'd Superman come from?"

"I don't know."

More was said on the other side of the wall, but I couldn't hear it very well (must've been Kryptonite somewhere around, dulling my super-hearing). I briefly considered revealing my true identity to the girls, then thought better of it. Why spoil the mystery, turn the exciting into the banal?

"So this is how it feels to have a secret identity," I thought, going out into the crisp autumn night. I was only sorry I hadn't appeared as the Lone Ranger. I could've left those girls a silver bullet. Then they surely would've asked, "Who was that masked man?"

Carol's daughters had been snapping pictures at the party. Later, Carol would embarrass me a bit by tacking one onto our church's bulletin board. I left the picture where it was, though; it was this fun-loving woman's way of saying thank you. Somebody took another photo and made a little larger print of it, suitable for framing. It sat on the chest of drawers by Dave's bed. Dave kept that picture there for a long time. When people would come in, he'd point to the photo and say, "Superman came to see me."

I visualize that picture now. In the photo, shot from behind, I'm approaching Dave at the party. You can tell that this Superman had been around a while. Wisps of curly gray hair fight a losing battle to cover his scalp. But his cape is just beautiful, long and flowing and bright red.

I think of that photo and I think about how time finally catches up with us all. Some of us it treats gently, albeit plucking us bald and painting us gray. Others get rougher treatment, having their legs yanked out from under them, their brains stirred like soup. But beauty somehow remains. There was beauty in this aging couple's love, in their ongoing fulfillment of a vow made long before to be faithful in sickness and in health. There was beauty in their kiss. There was even beauty in their childlike reception of a middle-aged man wearing a cape, carrying toy bullets.

As they say, a picture's worth a thousand words.

Don't Miss the Last Thrill-Packed Episode: No More Tights, No More Flights?

1. The Mark of Superman
2. The Super-Family from Kentucky - Part 1
3. The Super-Family from Kentucky - Part 2
4. Dangerous Lit-er-a-toor
5. My Pal, George
6. Great Moments in Super-History
7. Superman's Senior Moment
8. Mrs. Superman
9. Truth, Justice, and The Right to Read
10. Flights of Fandom
11. Super Friends
12. Brushes with Celebrity
13. Super Son, Super Daughter
14. Superman in Church
15. Flight to the North
16. Another Flight to the North
17. The Woman Who Hated Superman
18. Superman Meets the Lone Ranger
19. No More Tights, No More Flights?