I’ve wanted to visit the Lowell Milken Center for Unsung Heroes in Fort Scott but just never got around to it. Of course, I waited until gas prices were at near record highs, but I was desperate for a reminder that people have always done good things during difficult times. So, accompanied by two friends, I headed north for a much-needed history lesson.

The Milken Center is a by-product of a 1999 History Day project by Uniontown High School students of Norm Conard who told the then-unknown story of Irena Sendler, a Polish Catholic social worker who saved 2,500 Jewish children in the Warsaw Ghetto during WW II. Their work received worldwide attention, including that of philanthropist Lowell Milken who teamed with Conard to establish the Center of Unsung Heroes to remember and celebrate those individuals who were good and just and helped others despite the consequences. Teachers and students around the globe research and develop the stories of unsung heroes using an interdisciplinary approach of leaning, often changing their own lives in the process.

I knew all this and was prepared to learn the kind of history that isn’t taught (but should be) in school. However, I did not expect to be blown away by the magnitude of the scholarship found in the displays and panels telling the human side of history. Learning about individuals who helped others, not for recognition or glory but because it was the right thing to do, made my heart sing and renewed my faith in people. Because, let’s face it, those stories seem to be few and far between these days.

I knew the story of Irene Sendler but learned about many more, like Dr. Eugene Lazowski, a Polish doctor who saved the lives of 8,000 Jews by injecting them with a dead strain of typhus that tested positive. Those false results got them moved to quarantined villages, thus saving them from the Nazi death camps. I smiled, reading about Douglas Hegdahl, the “incredibly stupid” US Navy sailor captured by the Viet Cong, who pretended to be illiterate but instead memorized information about his fellow prisoners—to the tune of “Old MacDonald”—so he was able to pass on that valuable intel when he was released in a prisoner exchange. However, I knew about the two non-human unsung heroes: Cher Ami, the carrier pigeon that saved more than 200 Americans during his last “mission” in WW I France, and Sgt. Stubby, the most decorated dog in American history for his service overseas, also during WW I.

But I was most moved by the display featuring the Little Rock Nine, learning for the first time about Ken Reinhardt and Ann Williams, the only two white students at Little Rock Central High School who befriended the African American students integrating their school. Their humanity in an atmosphere of hate was awe-inspiring. I became somewhat verklempt, wondering if I would have been as brave under those circumstances. It’s a question I wrestle with but those young kids—only 17 at the time—didn’t consider any other alternative.

I left the Milken Center with such admiration for the many Unsung Heroes and the students and teachers who have worked to keep their stories alive. Still, I couldn’t help wondering if future scholars would find any unsung heroes living during these fraught times. And then I realized it was a full-circle moment that began two days earlier when I visited the Social Work Community Project on the PSU campus. I talked with students about the work they’ve done this semester to make real differences in peoples’ lives, whether it was helping immigrants, victims of sexual abuse, those struggling with addiction, people with food insecurity, and alleviating loneliness for those living in a care facility. These young people—and they were young! —spoke with such passion and caring that I left feeling much better about the current state of the country. Their convictions and future endeavors may not make headlines, but they are making a difference. They are today’s unsung heroes and might just end up saving the world.