Darrell Barber grew up in an Army family. They moved every few years, which made it difficult to make friends. He was often lonely and a target of bullies.
When he was in sixth grade, his family moved to a small island in the Pacific. One day, as he made his way to the cafeteria, a few eighth-graders cornered him. The leader of the group, a boy whom Barber remembers as "Reuben," grabbed Barber by his collar and threw him up against a wall.
"He was holding me with his left hand, and I could see that his right hand was already balled up in a fist. I remember thinking, 'My head is pressed up against a concrete wall, and when he hits me, it is really going to do some damage,'" Barber said.
As he braced himself for the impact of the punch, he heard a voice, calm and firm: "Leave him alone."
The voice belonged to another eighth-grader, whose name was Marcus.
"We all turned to look, and there was this guy ... who looked like a football player. He was big and muscular. And Reuben immediately let go of me," Barber recalled.
Reuben and his friends then scattered, leaving Marcus and Barber alone in the hallway.
"Marcus looked at me and said, 'Come on.' And we walked to the cafeteria together. He had lunch with me, and after that, Reuben never bothered me again," Barber said.
From that day on, Marcus and Barber had lunch together most days. Barber was quite shy, so they didn't talk much, but he enjoyed the brief time they got to spend together before his family had to move once again.
"'Back [in the 1970s], there was no internet. So, when your family got new orders, you most likely lost contact with your friends. At the end of the school year, my dad got orders for the Presidio in San Francisco, and I never saw Marcus again."
Although they didn't stay in touch, Marcus will always hold a special place in Barber's memory.
"What Marcus did had such a profound impact on me. At my next school, I started noticing the loners. I made an effort to get to know them and have lunch with them. And in doing that, I became more outgoing. Marcus, what you did for me that day absolutely changed my life, and I don't think I ever thanked you for that. So, thank you."
My Unsung Hero is also a podcast — new episodes are released every Tuesday. To share the story of your unsung hero with the Hidden Brain team, record a voice memo on your phone and send it to myunsunghero@hiddenbrain.org.
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