Profiles
in Patriotism
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Scott West
A man of God
Not good enough to fly
by
Denny Meyer
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Scott
West grew up in the 1950s and 60s in the small mid-America town of South Pekin, IL, which had a population
of 900, eight of whom were his siblings. The
family was poor and not particularly religious. And so,
as Scott put it, "I was a young man in search of an
identity." His older brothers began the
family's military tradition with four joining the armed
forces, two in the Air Force, two in the Army. For
young Scott, the Air Force was the holy grail with its
sleek planes and technological aura. His eldest
brother had entered the Air Force when Scott was still a
baby; and so, for Scott, he was the hero idol whose
image and identity he wanted to make his own.
"Joining the Air Force was what Wests did," he
said.
Shortly
after completing high school, Scott followed in his
brothers' footsteps and enlisted in the United States
Air Force. It was the proudest moment of his young
life; he got chills, he said, simply standing uniformed
in formation at attention to the anthem. He was a
patriot of the American heartland of Fourth of July bunting
and barbeques; resolute, Republican, and ready to fly
off into the red white and blue yonder. Ah, but
alas, like so many at that time and from that place, he
hardly had an inkling about his being gay. That
realization came later, after he'd left South Pekin and
Peoria behind for the travel the Air Force afforded into
the great beyond to the big city of Phoenix where the
truth of who he was became the first of several
epiphanies that changed the course of his life.
The Air
Force's attention to technological aptitude led to his
being trained to be a radiographer and X-ray
technologist. That became his lifetime
occupation. It was the realization of the American
way, that a poor young man could learn a viable trade
through service to his nation. In the post-Vietnam
era of his service, he did not experience combat, but he
worked in hospital with those who had --fallen pilots
with missing limbs and others with the physical and
emotional wounds of that war. Thus the seeds were
planted in his soul for him to grow into the spiritual
healer that he became later in life.
Serving
at Luke Air Force Base, near Phoenix, AZ, this fine
young American boy matured, proud to be serving his
country, and came to realize and accept that he happened
to be gay. Even at that time, his peers that he
told, arched their eyebrows only in irony that he had
taken so long to understand what they had sensed all
along. He was accepted for who he had always
been, a skilled technologist and good friend, and a proud
patriotic airman whose heartland values were the same as
that of those around him. To place this event in
his life into the context of historical time; it was
only two years earlier that another American Air Force
hero, Leonard Matlovitch, had publicly declared that he
was gay and was promptly dishonorably discharged despite
18 years of sterling service, a Purple Heart, and
Bronze Star for his valor in Vietnam. Meanwhile,
Scott fell headlong in love, oblivious that a similar
fate awaited him for who he was.
One thing
led to another as they inevitably do, and his command
became aware that he was a homosexual. As things
were at the time, and remain until now, they had no
choice but to begin the process of discharging him for
who he was. A board was convened to determine his
fate. His coworkers and peers were formally
questioned to establish the facts. In an
inquisition-like moment, a colleague
was asked, "If you were to punish Airman West, what
would you (have us) do? Quite courageously,
for that time, she replied, "I'd make him stay in
the Air Force." Despite that suggestion of
rather lucid logic, he was given a general discharge
under honorable conditions.
His
mother was heartbroken; what can one say. In her
own way she dealt with the news as best as she could
with Midwestern practicality, suggesting that he get
married and perhaps go to Peoria on weekends. Oh dear,
what would any of us do without our moms, bless
them. His father was more pragmatic, saying that
he hoped he was happy, and sending one of his older
brothers there to make sure he was OK and supported
during the ordeal.
Despite
the American military's misconceived policy of casting
off its highly trained personnel who happen to be
homosexual, hospitals and healthcare companies were
quite happy to hire a skilled technologist; Scott had a
lifetime career. His calling to ministry came much
later, after alcoholism recovery, Episcopalian epiphany,
HIV seroconversion, cancer, and all the other difficult
trials that life presented him with. For Scott
West, each turbulent trouble led him to further
spirituality. He emerged from those experiences
with a greater understanding of his faith and
strength. In caring for those dying of AIDS, he
found himself grateful, he said, that a higher power had
given him that privilege. As years passed, he
became increasingly involved with his church and choir,
becoming a lay counselor and skilled spiritual
healer. That eventually led to his being called to
ministry by a bishop of an Independent Catholic
Denomination. He first became a chaplain at the
University of Colorado Hospital.
Today,
Monsignor Scott West leads Saint Luke's Church a
mission of The Evangelical Catholic Church of
America. His partner Sam supports him in his
spiritual and secular endeavors He
continues his secular work as an MRI and CT scan
technician. It would seem that his
Midwestern rearing and values have served him
well. |
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