There's a wonderful article in the August 4th issue of The New Yorker magazine about Army Major Alan Greg Rogers (1967 ~ 2007). “A Soldier’s Legacy” exposes the life of a man who exemplifies what it means to be a model American soldier. Alan began his life as an orphan in NYC, as a teenager moved to north central Florida with his adoptive mother. He was devoted to both of his adoptive parents.
He was devoted to God. He was devoted to his friends; friends that he seemed to make easily and friends who felt a very special connection to this son of a Trinidadian domestic who was raised by the good Rogers.
And he was man who's deep and devoted friends didn't always know or even imagine that one or another were part of Alan's life. You see, Alan had friends who knew he was gay and friends who didn't.
The New Yorker article brings together a host of remembrances and reactions from his friends, and the single most interesting thing is how the idea that a highly regarded, decorated, promoted army officer, an ordained Christian minister, and a gay man can all be one and the same person. But isn't that lack of imagination at the very heart of what homophobia depends upon?
Major Rogers was honored by articles in the Washington Post and on NPR (NPR chose to feature his story as a way of honoring the 4,000th casualty in Iraq.) Both organizations were aware of his sexuality and BOTH decided to make no mention of it. And we're talking about a man who in his position as a minister participated in same sex unions, and received an award from an organization of Gay, Lesbian, Bi-sexual and Transgender veterans. He was working on a master's thesis at the graduate school of Georgetown University on the effects of DADT (don't ask don't tell) on military recruitment and retention. So while in life, his commanding officers weren't aware of his sexual orientation; his best friend was, as were dozens and hundreds of others.
In the end, the article quotes a letter that he had written to his best friend, but hadn't had time to send before his was killed by an I.E.D. "My only regret is that I have never found that special one to grow old with and watch the sunset with."
I highly recommend this article to everyone with an open heart.
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