Well this will be cheesy, but my late-grandfather.
He hid Jews in WW2 (Even after watching his brother and neighbours be executed by Nazis), fought in the Dutch underground, immigrated to Canada with a large family and very little to his name, but was such an honest and good man, that people were more then happy to help him stay on his feet. He worked as a police officer, as a farmer, and in a shelter for troubled youth. And through it all, even when he couldn't even remember who I was, he always had a smile on his face, a joke on his tongue, and a faith that continues to inspire me beyond his passing.
My father is an extremely close second, though.