Marlene Dietrich was an heroic figure during World War II. An interviewer once asked her if she didn't miss the war. "No," she answered. "I don't miss the war. But, I miss what people are like when they are trying to be brave."

That quote came back to me the weekend I heard about the death of Princess Diana.

I had spent that weekend at my parent's house in Lanier, Georgia getting reacquainted with a woman I had started kindergarden with, graduated high school with, and hadn't seen in almost thirty years.

Deb has a son who has a heart-breaking degenerative disease. She has known that he was dying for 11 years. When he was eight she noticed something had changed about his gate, the way he walked and carried his head. A few weeks later when she got the diagnosis, she was told that he would never live past the age of 12. He's now 19 and starting his first year of college. Kevin has gone through innumerable operations, the last of which was to put a steel rod in the place of his spine which has all but disintegrated. He depends on Deb for almost everything.

Deb matter of factly told me about the machine she had used for years to hoist Kevin up out of his chair swung him over the bathtub and then let him down. She pumped this hoist with her arm, up and down every time Kevin bathed for all those years. This was only one thing out of a thousand she did every day out of love for that child.

Princess Diana was a charitable woman, she was courageous in her own way and she did a great deal of good for some very needy causes. But, I couldn't help thinking as I was watching that outpouring of love and care for her on the television, how unfortunate it is that the best in people, the most generous and sympathetic and loving in people usually only comes out when there is a disaster, or tragedy involving a chasasmatic or glamorous person.

I think my friend Deb is heroic, the courage with which she faces every day astounds me and humbles me. I never once in the entire weekend heard her complain or feel sorry for herself in the least.

Deb has never owned a designer gown, nor lived in a palace, nor gone skiing in Vale and billionaires don't show up at her door to take her out for dinner at the Ritz. In fact, Deb's husband was so deeply ashamed of his handicapped child that for the eight years he lived with them, he never lifted a finger to help take care of Kevin.

When he finally walked out and took up residence with another woman, he didn't even want his own son to attend his wedding. Deb forced him to allow Kevin to come to the wedding, and after it was over he cooly and cruelly told Kevin that he had ruined his life and gave this massively handicapped child money so he could get a cab to the airport to fly home.

I am certain that if we just looked around us more carefully - at our workmates, our neighbors, our friends, we would find so many people who have lived with and over come unimaginable hardship, people who have lived lives of charitable contribution, lived lives characterized by selfless love and devotion to those less fortunate.

I couldn't stop thinking as I looked at all the flowers and all the tears how wonderful it would be if we could just remember amidst the pace of our all too busy lives to stop and look at each other and appreciate and say we appreciate the courage and the love and the dignity with which so many people bear adversity.