Going to the local volunteer fire department to join, the day after I almost burned my new place down trying to get rid of some weeds.
Live burn training for the fire department.
Helping restrain a psychotic patient in the ER 3 weeks ago.
Accepting gracefully that I’d been laid off from a job I held for 15 years.
Moving out of Indiana to Virginia after I accepted the new job.
The coward list is much longer.
Giving my first child - my daughter - up for adoption.
It may not seem like much, but I don’t know if I could ever do it again. 
Taking my shift in the 24-hour watch while my grandmother was dying.
Leaving the only job I’d ever had (11.5 years) to take a completely new one with a new company (10 years ago.)
[salutes]
Chaining myself to the Student Center to object to Apartheid.
Catching a kid who was in free-fall; she’d fallen off of the top of a jungle gym.
Dragged the bouncers off a guy knocked unconcious and lying on the floor of my local college bar.
Faced down bare-handed 2 muggers attempting to rob my father on a street in Bogota, Colombia.
Faced down bare-handed 2 muggers attempting to rob my father on a street in Bogota, Colombia.
Wow, I have to hand it to you Count Blucher, even Vanderlei Silva just gave up the keys to his SUV when he was held up in Brazil. 
I think the bravest thing I have ever done led to my marriage. My husband and I had a long distance relationship (Me in Montana, him in Kansas). I was in Kansas for a visit and late one night, I told him I needed to know if he was going to marry me if I moved to Kansas. I said that I would not move if I didn’t know for sure. Scariest moment of my life - I pictured myself tearfully packing up my stuff, going to a hotel, trying to change my flight, and never seeing him again. He took a minute or so to answer and then said that he had been planning to ask me after I moved down, but proposed right there and then. I moved to Kansas almost 4 years ago, we have been married for almost 3 years, and I can’t imagine my life without him (although I can imagine my life without Kansas ;)).
I was 17 and crazy/stupid. (its a ‘17’ thing, I think) Besides he was my Dad. Worse he didn’t even know they were trying to rob him; he kept trying to engage them in conversation…in Latin :rolleyes: .
I’m not sure if this is the bravest thing I’ve ever done or the most chickenshit, but I went into the hospital fully prepared to sign a DNR order for my six day-old son. Fortunately, I didn’t have to, as he began turning the corner that very morning and the initial dire prognosis was scaled back a bit.
Just curious… what was the first thing you did? Did you look for a place to sleep?
I often wonder what people do when they move to a strange place, knowing no one with only a few dollars in their pocket?
Bravest, honey.
I was about seventeen when my dog’s stomach turned over. My dad and I raced Axl to the vet, but there wasn’t anything they could do. He was too old to survive surgery, and we decided to put him down. My dad signed the form and paid the bill, and turned to leave right away. I refused. I wasn’t going to leave my dog alone there to die with strangers.
I sat on the floor with Axl’s head in my lap. He was so old, they had trouble finding a vein. I remember the way he looked at me with that expression of total trust that only dogs can do, even while the vet techs prepped him for the injection. I remember a smear of blood on the floor from them trying to get the needle into his leg. I remember the plunger on the synringe going down, pushing all that poison into my dog. I don’t remember when he stopped breathing.
Later, in the car home, my dad thanked me for doing what he didn’t have the guts to do. My dad’s no coward. I’ve seen him stand up to guys that could have snapped him in two, because he was protecting me, or my mom, or someone else he cared about. But he couldn’t stand the idea of sitting there, watching his dog die. He wouldn’t have done it, if I hadn’t forced him to. And he thanked me for making him do it.
I know that, when it comes to bravery, watching someone put your dog to sleep isn’t much at all, especially compared to some of the other stories in this thread. But hearing your dad tell you that you’re braver than he is?
Man, that’s a hell of a thing.
A school building undergoing a roof replacement during the summer was targeted by vandals who lit up debris piled against the building. Our engine company forced entry, ran a leader line down the corridor and then entered the classroom which was well involved with fire, as the windows had failed. I was on the nozzle and we were making slow progress pushing the fire back out when the Deputy Chief beat on my helmet with his portable (to get my attention) and yelled that there was a propane fueled tar buggy just outside the failed windows.
A few minutes later, a very loud BANG scared the living crap out of us all, and I put the nozzle on fog, pointed it at the ceiling, and sucked floor, waiting for the fireball. Turns out one of the buggy tires blew-not the propane tank.
Being deep inside a building performing primary search, and two of our three have low air warning whistles sounding, and I’m suppressing various emotions as the entry route is mentally traced/felt because we can’t see spit.
Not sure if that’s bravery or doing what you were trained to do when things turn ugly.
A long time ago, in a neighborhood far, far way…
I was 10, and me and two friends were in one friend’s garage, working on his bicycle.
Four of the “big kids”, bullies, gathered in the driveway and said anyone leaving was going to get a beating.
It was sunset, and we had to get home. My best friend walked out onto the driveway and was immediately jumped by one of the bullies (who looked alot like Scut Farkas).
All I remember was my friend screaming “No! No!”.
I ran out and grabbed this big kid around the neck and slung him to the ground. He outweighed me by 60 pounds.
My best friend jumped on his chest and just started pummeling him. Just like the scene in “A Christmas Story”. The big kid grabbed my arm but I “karate chopped” his wrist until he let go.
The other big kids did nothing, just hung back and watched.
When my best friend let the big kid up, the bully was crying, shirt torn, blood and snot on his face.
He shook his fist “I’m gonna get you sonsabitches!” he said.
He never did, and niether did the others.
Ancient history, but I still remember it from time to time.
My ex had the decency to put me up in a cheapass crack hotel for the first 2 weeks. By then I had gotten a quick and dirty job waitressing and a coworker needed a roommate, so it did work out.
From one mom to the other - I thank you from the depths of my soul.
In high school, I once jumped down onto the subway tracks to fetch my friend’s schoolbag that I accidentally knocked off of his shoulder while waiting for the train. Let me tell you, it’s farther down there than it looks… I’m 6’2" and the platform was nearly over my head as I stood at track level.
Fortunately the rats stayed away from me, I avoided the third rail and the train didn’t come barreling down into the station while I was down there. What the hell was I thinking?
Told my mother I was categorically not visiting them for Christmas ever again.
It essentially cut me off from any kind of safety net I’ve ever had and I’m still dealing with their occasional attempts to tell me I’m not serious. But my Christmases have been a lot calmer.
Last fall: Climbing the 105-foot aerial ladder in Firefighter 1 class in full turnout gear. At night. There were only five females in the class, and just two of us did the whole climb.
Of the remaining guys, three or four chickened out. When you’re at the top, it sways and bounces.
Pretty much all of Firefighter 1 class - the maze, the live burn evolutions, climbing ladders, and the search-and-rescue ops. Scary, but fun.
This winter: Summoning the courage to throw out my rotten, cheating husband and start my life anew.
The bravest thing I’ve done impulsively: Facing down my psychotic ex-stepfather when he was about to start beating up my mom. I had a broom (I was cleaning up the glass he’d thrown at her in the kitchen) and that was the only thing between me and a crazy drunk twice my size. He backed down.
The bravest thing I’ve done with a lot of thought behind it: Told my husband about the above psychotic ex-stepfather molesting me. He was the only person I’d ever told at that point.
Went to the dentist.
Don’t laugh.
Novacaine doesn’t really work on me. It’s very hard to get my teeth numb. I had a string of shitty dentists as a kid, who accused me of lying, being melodramatic, trying to get attention, etc. “You are too numb.” I have had both an extraction and a root canal that I felt every bit of. I developed a paralyzing phobia-- I couldn’t even get cleanings. I couldn’t even look at dental equipment or think about going to the dentist without hyperventilating.
Unfortunatly, I have very bad teeth. By 26 I had loose, cracked or missing fillings in most of my teeth. One tooth broke off below the gumline, became infected and abcessed. I lived like that for months before finally getting up the courage to go to a dentist. I had two teeth removed, one new filling, two root canals, and four crowns done under anethesia by a dentist who didn’t mock OR hurt me. Calling and making that first appointment and then keeping it took more courage than anything I’ve ever done.