Walsh’s heroic DNC speech takes a page from Flood

Endorsements are meaningful, but nothing beats the power of example for assessing the worth of a life, which is why our rookie mayor made such a splash while briefly addressing the Democratic National Convention in Philadelphia this week.

“Good evening,” he began. “My name is Marty Walsh and I’m an alcoholic.”

He could have added he was standing before them by the grace of God, having moved, one day at a time, from the wreckage of who he used to be to the miracle he has become.

But he didn’t have to, because his presence said it all and what it said was eloquent: Our past does not have to be our future, too.

What an encouraging bipartisan message that is. No donkey or elephant can claim it, but anyone can own it for the price of being honest and reaching out for help.

How many listeners in the humongous Wells Fargo Center, or in the vast TV audience, do you suppose needed to hear that, if not for themselves then perhaps for a parent, spouse or child?

It’s why Marty, who’s now been sober for 29 years, will be the speaker many will best remember.

Ronald Reagan once suggested that anyone saying we no longer live in an age of heroes simply doesn’t know where to look.

In sharing his story, Marty is seen as heroic here.

So was Jack Flood, the former Norfolk County Sheriff, whose funeral will be held this morning at St. John the Evangelist Church in Canton.

Late in his public career this former state rep from Canton and Randolph was named director of substance abuse services for the commonwealth’s Department of Corrections, a bureaucratic position.

But it was in his handson dealings with inmates as sheriff that Jack found his greatest purpose. In a setting where authority was so essential, where any sign of vulnerability could be seen as weakness, he would stand in front of a roomful of prisoners and say, “Hi, I’m Jack, and I’m an alcoholic.” Why? “Because I’ve got a building filled with stories like mine,” he once explained. “I look at these kids and see myself.”

When Jack died Tuesday he had been sober for 39 years.

It’s quite likely that somewhere today there are lives that were changed because of the message Jack Flood carried wherever he went, just as it’s quite possible lives were touched by what the mayor of Boston told the world this week.

The Gipper was right. There are indeed heroes among us.

You just have to know where to look.