What makes a hero? I have asked myself this question over and over again and have never really come to a conclusive answer. Oftentimes, I narrow the definition down to people that are willing to risk more than they stand to gain from something. I’m not talking about people with a gambling addiction. I’m talking about risking something much more valuable than money: life. People who risk their lives day in and day out for the benefit of their community, city, or country in exchange for very little are who I define as heroes time and again. However, is that definition too obvious? Perhaps too limiting? These uncertainties are why I need to consider this question over and over again.

In thinking about the nature of heroism, I have come up with a few different kinds of heroic people, each with distinguishing characteristics. Some are figureheads who are given credit for both what they personally did and what the people they commanded did, and others are never given popular credit for their contributions. Some are heroic because they gave their lives in service to a cause, and others are heroic because they continually put themselves in harm’s way in that same service.

George Washington is a perfect example of a figurehead hailed for both his leadership and the contributions of his subordinates. He is worshipped as a near-deity in the United States for his role in the founding of the country (exemplified by his presence on money and the plentiful Washington Streets all around the country), but there were thousands of people he commanded whose contributions to freedom were just as great. Sure, Washington commanded the Continental Army, but without Baron Friedrich Wilhelm von Steuben training the army to be a formidable fighting force, Admiral Comte de Rochambeau cutting off British escape by sea at Yorktown, the critical intelligence provided by the Culper Ring, led by Major Benjamin Tallmadge, even Major General Benedict Arnold’s contributions at Saratoga, the Revolution would not have ended the way it did.

On the other end of the spectrum are the people who aren’t given recognition for their contribution to a cause—the unsung heroes. There are countless examples of this, ranging from the 5th Maryland Regiment’s sacrifice during the Battle of Long Island to the quotidian heroism performed by the Fire Department, police, and emergency medical services every day.

Our emergency services put themselves in harm’s way every single day to protect us, whether from a minor medical issue or a colossal collapse. The baseline of operation for emergency services is a chance that they won’t go home after their shift. They have to do everything they can to not only allow themselves to go home again, but to enable the people in their care to do the same. They risk life and limb to fight for the common cause of safety and security.

The sacrifice of the 5th Maryland Regiment is more obvious and more violent. Those 400 men, now widely known as the Maryland 400, countercharged a force of 2,000 British regulars and Hessian mercenaries toward the end of the Battle of Long Island in an effort to stall the British charge and allow the Continental Army to retreat safely. The battle was disastrous for the Continentals. Out of the 400 soldiers, just ten returned to Continental lines. But the hour they bought allowed the Continentals to retreat to Brooklyn Heights and eventually slip across the river under the cover of darkness and likely saved the Revolution and the Patriot cause, yet it is all but forgotten about. The 400 men of the 5th Maryland Regiment embody heroic sacrifice better than most other examples of it since, and it is their sacrifice that makes them true American heroes.

Another story of heroism that seems almost superhuman is that of Captain Jay Jonas and Ladder Company 6 on September 11, 2001. Ladder 6 was one of the first few fire companies to arrive at the Twin Towers that morning, and one of the only ones to make it out. They rushed into the North Tower to try and help rescue people by climbing up the stairs as much as they could before the South Tower collapsed and they were ordered to exit. On the way down, they saw a Port Authority employee who was struggling to make it out, so they stopped to help her down from the 20th floor. As they descended through Stairwell B, the collapse of the North Tower began. The men of Ladder 6 and the civilian they were rescuing were still on the fourth floor as the 110-story tower pancaked in on itself, bringing 105 stories’ worth of steel, concrete, and glass crashing down. Somehow, the bottom five floors didn’t fall, and despite being trapped under tons of rubble, Captain Jonas stayed composed and kept his crew and the civilian calm before they themselves were rescued. That kind of composure in the face of an apocalyptic catastrophe is exceptionally rare, and had Captain Jonas not been as composed as he was, he, his company, and the civilian they stopped to rescue would not have made it out alive. Captain Jonas went on to serve 21 more years with the Fire Department, retiring as a deputy chief. After such a harrowing experience, hardly anyone would stay on the job, but Captain Jonas knew he had a duty to serve the people of New York City, and he continued to do just that after nearly being killed performing that very same duty. And he is not the only one to exemplify how continued bravery and refusal to let harrowing experiences get in the way of doing one’s duty make a true hero.

Another sterling example of this bravery is Lieutenant Richard Hamilton, who served in the Fire Department of the City of New York for over 20 years, from the 1950s to the 1970s. In that time, the Fire Department was the busiest it has ever been due to urban decay and other factors, so Lieutenant Hamilton saw quite a few nasty things. Very early in his career, he had to go down a shaft that was surrounded by flames to rescue a man trapped at the bottom. Later on, as a Lieutenant with Rescue Company 2, he was part of the cleanup and rescue efforts after a plane crashed in Park Slope in December 1960. Just three days after the plane crash, as the crews were still working there, Rescue 2 and Lieutenant Hamilton responded to a fire on a ship under construction at the Brooklyn Navy Yard. Lieutenant Hamilton descended into a superheated basement, alone, to rescue two firefighters who were trapped down there. Separately, he rescued someone trapped in a sewer pipe, he burrowed through a wall to save an old woman, he rescued a train operator stuck in a mangled wreck of subway train parts. And, even after all of that, he kept going. He kept saving people’s lives and wrote a book about it called 20,000 Alarms. He never claimed that he was doing anything but his job, and his record of heroic actions speaks for itself.

Heroism comes in many forms, and it doesn’t always have to be flashy. Simple fortitude can be enough to do something exceptional. The fierce tenacity and abject refusal to give up exemplified by all of these heroes are qualities all of us have, but must choose to use.