I Don’t Know Anymore
At the order of President Harry S. Truman, early on the morning of August 6th, 1945, a Boeing B-29 Superfortress took off from the island of Tinian in the Westen Pacific bound for Hiroshima, Japan, carrying an atomic bomb that was inscribed with the name “Little Boy.” The plane, named Enola Gay was piloted by Colonel Paul Tibbets; the bomber had been given this fine name by the Colonel in honor of his mother Enola Gay Tibbets; a nice story about a boy’s love for his mother.
The Enola Gay, its pilot, and its mission mean more to history, however, than a cute, sentimental story: the dropping of the first atomic bomb led to the end of World War II and ushered in the age of atomic weapons; the importance of that day and its role in the future of the world cannot be overstated. But guess what, we have a problem; almost eighty years later the Enola Gay and its place in history is under attack. You might have heard the new administration is uncomfortable with anything that is remotely connected to diversity, equity, and inclusion “DEI”. In fact, the Department of Defense, led by a very nice-looking, overqualified, former FOX personality, has decreed that any and all online posts or photos that reference diversity, equity, and inclusion be purged from Pentagon documents; and as hard as it is to believe, the references to the Enola Gay have been flagged for removal. Seems the word gay is bothersome; I know that is silly; but it’s true.
Sadly, they didn’t stop there, no, when you are wiping away history, you might as well go all in. In fact, they are also removing any references and pictures that include military personnel with the last name Gay. Immediately interested in who this might impact I took a quick glance at famous military leaders who had the last name Gay and was thrilled to be reminded of Lieutenant General Hobart R. Gay, nicknamed “Hap”. I recognized his name but couldn’t initially put my finger on it and then I saw a fact that brings me joy; Hap served in WWI, WWII, and Korea and received eleven medals for his service, but the most noteworthy point was that Hap served alongside General George S. Patton, ultimately becoming his Chief of Staff. You remember Patton, he was known as a primary advocate for promoting people based solely on their diversity and was always sensitive to people’s feelings; some would even call him accepting of minorities and progressive liberal ideas; I joke, Patton was the biggest hardass the military has likely ever had.
And yet, he served with a guy named Gay. I don’t know how he could have done such a terrible thing. Didn’t he know the mere presence of a man named Gay was a threat to our security, to our well-being, to our fragile minds. I hadn’t thought about this before, but I admire Patton now more than ever, what a guy to put Hap’s impairment aside and man up with a Gay, to fight the Nazis.
Then I started wondering about Hap and how this might have impacted him, having Gay as a surname. I mean seriously it’s not his fault; he was born a Gay. He didn’t have any choice. His dad would have had the same challenge; it couldn’t have been easy to be born a Gay in the 1800’s. And what about his mom, she wasn’t born a Gay but got married and immediately became a Gay. Bless their hearts the unfairness of it all.
Thankfully, the pentagon has come to their senses and are finally focused on the things that they need to do to protect us. Imagine all these years we have been exposed to international threats because we hold onto the myth of the Enola Gay and honored the bravery of a Gay. I will sleep better tonight. Or maybe I won’t.
I am embarrassed to say my hometown is in trouble and I see no sign that what ails it will be fixed anytime soon. The problem is the primary road in Downtown Knoxville is named Gay Street; it’s true, evidently it has been that way since the late seventeen hundreds. That is a long time for this wonderful town to labor under the plague of a street named after one its early citizens who were sadly named Gay. I guess there is some small sliver of hope, one of the main cross streets in downtown is Church Street; a lot can happen at the intersection of Church and Gay.
I shouldn’t worry, Knoxville is represented by one of the most thoughtful, humble, reflective members of the US congress; I am certain if he has time -- it is hard to get on his calendar given how many CNN and FOX interviews he does -- he will embark on protecting Knoxville from this lingering DEI threat. I sure as hell hope so. I am not sure we can continue to have the annual Veterans Day parade on Gay Street; what will the pentagon say?
I am sure you are like me; my head spins every day trying to internalize the dangers we have been living with and the strong steps taken to protect me, my family, and all normal people from, you know. I am grateful for all that is being done. And then I think of my mom and remember her loving soul and how she welcomed everyone, whenever she could. She wasn’t perfect, none of us are, but she would not have felt better protected today than before. Her memory gets me nervous and anxious; I mean what are we doing? I need a break and when I need a break, I close my eyes and allow myself to imagine floating on a boat, the water lapping against the bow, the wind rolling over the flybridge, and me staring peacefully out at the Gulf of…. Damn, now what? I don’t know what to do anymore.
