Tortolano says the money sits in a PayPal account. Smeaton says he prefers whisky. In the past week, Mr.
Smeaton's image and deeds have begun spreading around the Internet. His head is superimposed onto the body of Superman, Rocky Balboa and the "Star Wars" character Obi-Wan Kenobi. Faux-movie posters depict him as the hero in "Shaft" and "Braveheart.
" He has become the subject of heroic verse, some written in the style of Scottish poet Robert Burns. T-shirts with his photo and the message "What Would John Smeaton Do" sell for 15 (about $30) on eBay. The Scottish edition of the Sun tabloid newspaper has started a petition among readers to call on politicians to award medals to Mr.
Smeaton and the other airport responders. During debate in Parliament this past week, MP Pete Wishart asked the government to honor those on the attack scene with awards and "to pay tribute to John Smeaton, the one-man scourge of international terrorism at Glasgow airport." Glaswegians, in particular, have embraced Mr.
Though the city has spent millions of pounds in recent years to highlight its architecture, music and museums, it has suffered from a violent image. Glasgow's male population retains a reputation for bar fights and football fights, often on sectarian lines of Catholics versus Protestants. It's rough and ready," says Brian Jagger, a 30-year-old mechanic who lives in the village of Houston, a few minutes drive from the Glasgow airport.
"I don't know him but I'm definitely proud of him. And I would've done the same." Smeaton's celebrity reflects the general relief across Britain that no one was injured in the Glasgow attack, or in the previous day's attempt to detonate two cars in London.
His description of the attack in early news videos showed him as what the Brits call a "have-a-go hero," basically a selfless everyman. Smeaton described his role more modestly. He says he joined police officers and others in subduing the attackers -- taking a kick at Bilal Abdullah, who on Friday was charged in the attacks.
Smeaton came to the aid of an injured bystander who'd joined in the rumble. "I did nothing special," Mr. "I just ran in and booted a guy.
" Smeaton was born just outside Glasgow in the small town of Bishopton, left school at 16 and became an apprentice joiner. He has worked at the airport for 12 years, currently handling baggage and cargo. Single, he lives in Erskine, a commuter town outside Glasgow.
He says he enjoys fishing and playing games on his Xbox. Since last Saturday's attack, his friends tell him that women have been asking to be introduced to him. His cell phone is jammed with messages.
He's puzzled as to why people are so taken with his story. "I haven't a Scooby," he says, meaning he doesn't have a clue. Smeaton has been so inundated that he took time off work.
He's expected to return next week. He says he has been unnerved by the attention. "It's been overwhelming," he says.
"I'm just trying to get on with life." In the meantime, tales of his exploits keep growing. Jamie Keegan, a 22-year-old Scot, helps run a Smeaton appreciation page that was set up Sunday on Facebook, the social networking Web site.
About 3,000 users have linked to the page with posts about Mr. "It's fair to say he won't have to pay for many more drinks for the rest of his life," said Mr. "His name will always be remembered amongst the Scottish people.
" And, perhaps, immortalized in verse. Among the Smeaton tribute poems circulating on the Internet is this anonymous, Burns-style ode. It reads in part: Twas doon by the inch o' Abbots Oor Johnny walked one day When he saw a sicht that troubled him Far more than he could say.
.. Now that's no richt wur And sallied tae the fray A left hook and a heid butt Required tae save the day.
Now listen up Bin Laden Tortolano says the money sits in a PayPal account.
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