Life of a National Hero Has Its Perils

Y ou may have heard about the reported late-night talk-show battle between CBS’ David Letterman and NBC’s Jay Leno over who gets first dibs on Capt. Scott F. O’Grady, the rescued Air Force pilot who became a national hero by surviving on ants and grass for nearly six days after his F-16 was shot down over Bosnia-Herzegovina.

With that kind of resume, the 29-year-old O’Grady is naturally the guest everyone wants. While Letterman and Leno were competing for him, though, they were unaware that (in my dreams) he already had exclusively granted this column his first in-depth interview, an offer that we swiftly snapped up.

H.R.: We can’t tell you how honored we are that you’d pick this column over those television superstars, Letterman and Leno. This is our first interview with a national hero.

S.O.: You see, that’s the thing. I can’t quite understand why being shot down and getting saved makes a guy a national hero, with President Clinton saying that I represent “what is very best about our country.� I’m flattered by all the attention, and grateful, but I’m not Sgt. York, you know. I mean, I ate some insects, munched some weeds and hid from Serbs who were searching for me.

As I see it, all I did was stay alive until I was found by our own people. Does that make me a national hero? If so, then why aren’t the ones who risked their lives saving me--the two dozen Marines who manned the rescue choppers and were on the ground eight minutes and came under fire as they pulled out--also national heroes? Coming and going, they could have been blown out of the skies by surface-to-air missiles. Why didn’t President Clinton invite them to lunch at the White House, too?

H.R.: The humility you display, in repeatedly seeking to shun the spotlight, is commendable. You’re obviously a fine young man, and we’re all happy to have you back. But do something about that naivete. You’re a national hero because the President desperately needed a shining symbol to divert attention from criticism of his embattled Bosnian policy. So you, a clean-cut American in jeopardy, a survivor against heavy odds, a resourceful bug eater, became his designated “true national hero,� a theme picked up and drummed home by the obliging news media virtually without questioning its veracity. TV, in particular, is always itching to throw a parade.

S.O.: I can’t believe all the TV coverage I’ve received.

H.R.: The pictures, the sound bites--you were tailor-made for all of it. A national hero, one personally anointed by the President, is great TV. And so is the hero’s family.

S.O.: Wouldn’t my rescuers be great TV, too?

H.R.: You still don’t get it. That would be too complex, too confusing, too cumbersome. Too many halos for the media and public to salute. Too many people for Katie and Bryant to interview. Too many people for Clinton to have over for lunch. Better one singer--whose name everyone can easily remember and celebrate--than a chorus.

S.O.: So what happens now?

H.R.: You’ve done nothing wrong. You’ve handled yourself with dignity. Unlike Kato Kaelin, you’re not trading on someone else’s tragedy. So take your fame and run with it. The morning shows you’ve done so far are only a taste of what’s coming. They’ll need somebody to throw out the first ball at the World Series. Do it. They’ll want you to guest host “Saturday Night Live.� Do it. Jay or Dave will slap you on the back and turn you into a punch line. Accept it. Even more offers will pour in. But do be careful. Predators are everywhere.

S.O.: Would you help me sort through it all?

H.R.: Sure. Have you been sexually abused or beaten by your parents, screamed at your mother for wearing see-through blouses and tight miniskirts, had sex with underage boys, had a penile enlargement, hung out with the Ku Klux Klan, attempted to murder a sibling, gotten mad at a white roommate for dating African Americans, worn a bra and panties, been held hostage aboard a spaceship from Pluto, appeared in home porno movies, been married to a movie or TV star who mistreated you, promoted bestiality on the Internet, tattooed your private parts, been a bigamist, stalked celebrities or had a secret crush on a heterosexual man you’d like to horrify by giving him a French kiss on national television?

S.O.: No.

H.R.: Then forget about daytime talk shows.

S.O.: And if Barbara Walters calls?

H.R.: Skip her. She’ll make you cry.

S.O.: Howard Stern?

H.R.: No way. He’ll urge you to strip.

S.O.: Rush Limbaugh?

H.R.: Nope. He’ll want you to be Phil Gramm’s running mate.

S.O.: “Hard Copy� has already been by. A camera crew jumped out of the bushes and demanded that I comment on rumors that, while hiding in Bosnian Serb territory, I fantasized about having sex with Princess Di.

H.R.: You didn’t talk to them?

S.O.: Only to say it wasn’t true.

H.R.: Big mistake. I can hear the intro now: “National Hero Denies Sleeping With Princess Di.�

S.O.: I’m also getting pressured by producers wanting to buy movie rights to my story.

H.R.: With Tom Cruise playing you? Yeah, the rumors are flying.

S.O.: Some people from Fox called too.

H.R.: With Fox’s demographics? Expect to see yourself on the screen as a 16-year-old African American or as a swinger in a singles soap opera.

S.O.: Actually, they mentioned a comedy series, with my character rooming with a Latino gang counselor.

H.R.: Swell. “O’Grady & Gregorio.� And you thought the Bosnian Serbs were scary.

S.O.: Another producer mentioned a sitcom that would combine the whimsy of “Seinfeld� and “Friends� with the gravity of global politics.

H.R.: Oh, sure. A bunch of young U.S. pilots crash in Bosnia, then sit around and schmooze about nothing while waiting to be rescued. This is getting serious. I can see your present situation is more perilous than I thought.

S.O.: I haven’t even told you about the book.

H.R.: Already, you’re doing a book?

S.O.: Not me, actually. It was commissioned without my knowledge by Dove Books and completed by the time I had lunch with the President. It’s called “Six Days in June: How Scott O’Grady Would Have Told It Had He Not Been Otherwise Occupied While Hiding From the Serbs.�

H.R.: A serious work. I didn’t realize. Look, all of this can be very important to you down the road. Many in the media delight in tearing down what they build up. On the first anniversary of your rescue, there will be stories galore reviewing what you’ve done in the interim, and if you don’t meet the media’s high expectations, they’ll clobber you just as zealously as they now are glorifying you.

S.O.: I’m jittery.

H.R.: You should be. If you thought getting shot down over enemy territory was tough, wait till you see what it’s like being a national hero.