When I met Bono at the Cannes Film festival while I was there for

“When I met Bono at the Cannes Film Festival while I was there for the film United 93, he said to me, ‘That’s a great film, brother. Thank you for your courage in making it.’ I plotzed.” — Thus spoke David Alan Basche, an actor who had walked among shadows of grief and memory, and who suddenly found himself honored by one whose words carried both fame and reverence. This moment, simple in form yet profound in feeling, reveals the eternal truth that recognition of courage — especially from one soul to another — holds the power to humble even the strongest of hearts. For what is praise, if not the reflection of shared humanity?

The story behind these words reaches back to a film that dared to tread upon sacred ground: United 93, the cinematic retelling of the tragedy that unfolded on September 11, 2001. To create such a work was no mere act of artistry; it was an act of moral bravery. The filmmakers ventured into the heart of collective pain, to honor those who perished while confronting the horrors of that day with honesty and grace. It was a story drenched in sorrow, yet lit by courage — the courage of ordinary people who rose, in their final hour, to extraordinary heights. Thus, when Basche received Bono’s words, he was not being praised for entertainment, but for reverence — for giving voice to heroism born from tragedy.

In that instant, as he said, “I plotzed,” meaning he was overcome — astonished, moved beyond measure — we glimpse a timeless truth: true recognition humbles, not inflates. The heart that labors for truth does not expect applause, and so when acknowledgment comes, it strikes like a divine wind, filling the soul with both gratitude and disbelief. Bono, a man who has sung of justice, mercy, and faith, recognized in Basche’s work the same thread of courage that runs through all acts of compassion. His praise was not for fame’s sake, but for integrity — for daring to tell a story the world both needed and feared to hear.

The ancients too understood this sacred exchange between courage and acknowledgment. In the days of Rome, when generals returned triumphant, they were paraded through the streets in chariots of gold — yet beside them stood a servant whispering, “Remember, thou art mortal.” For even as glory shone upon them, humility was their crown. So too in Basche’s tale: praise came not as flattery, but as a moment of shared reverence, one artist honoring another who had walked the path of service to truth. The greatness of that moment was not in celebrity, but in humanity — the meeting of two souls bound by the same reverent respect for courage.

Yet there is another lesson hidden here, one known to the wise: courage is contagious. When one dares to act with heart and conviction, others are inspired to do the same. The making of United 93 required not only skill, but faith — faith that truth, however painful, could heal. It invited both creators and audience to look upon the unspeakable and find strength rather than despair. And when Bono, himself a messenger of empathy through music, thanked Basche, he continued the chain of courage — passing the torch from one bearer of truth to another.

In this, we are reminded that art, at its highest form, is not mere creation, but communion. It is the meeting place of hearts across time and circumstance. The actor, the singer, the poet, the listener — all partake in the same sacred exchange: to give, to witness, to affirm. When one soul looks upon another and says, “Thank you for your courage,” the universe itself seems to pause, for such words are the heartbeat of human nobility.

The lesson then, my child, is clear: do not seek praise, but strive always to act with integrity and bravery. Speak truth, even when it trembles upon your tongue. Create, even when your art walks through fire. And if, in your journey, another soul recognizes your effort and calls you “brother” or “sister” in courage — receive it with humility, for such moments are sacred. They remind us that we are not alone in the struggle to illuminate the dark.

For in the end, as David Alan Basche learned in that brief but unforgettable encounter, true honor does not reside in fame or applause, but in the echo of courage recognized by another brave heart. When courage meets compassion, when art meets understanding, the world grows a little brighter. And that, perhaps, is the highest purpose of all creation — not to be admired, but to awaken the light of courage in others.