Who is hawk Gates? He is a stay at home dad, former elementary school teacher, sports fan, writer of children’s books, and someone who enjoys sharing his thoughts on a wide range of topics. Order his debut children’s book here.

My contribution to the ongoing debate about that kid and the elderly Marine veteran.  What better way to kick off my blog?

My contribution to the ongoing debate about that kid and the elderly Marine veteran. What better way to kick off my blog?

Here is the original letter that the boy wrote to his local Catholic diocese, published by CNN:

https://www.cnn.com/2019/01/20/us/covington-kentucky-student-statement/index.html


Here is my spoof of that letter:

Dear Principal of Covington Catholic High School,

 

First of all, after reading this letter, please do not go back and watch any of the videos again. This letter should suffice in enlightening you as to what truly occurred between me, my classmates, and that elderly Marine veteran last Friday, on that ill-fated afternoon in D.C.

 

Second of all, my parents in no way, shape, or form had this letter written or edited by a legal professional.  This letter was written by yours truly, an innocent high school boy accused of embarrassing our entire school and church community by mocking an elderly Marine veteran on the National Mall.  On camera, no less.  On thirty cameras, no less.

 

You can actually tell that no one helped me write this letter because there are just enough spelling errorrs to prove that it was, in fact, written by an innocent high schooler. But not so many spelling errorrs that it makes me look like a total nincompoop.  

 

The (exactly four) spelling errorrs will be sure to distract you from the fact that this letter just so happens to include every single argument that my parents’ lawyer told me to use.  Sorry—what I meant to say was, in this letter I am using every single argument that I would tell myself to use, if I were an experienced lawyer who knew how to get people out of jams like this.  That’s what I meant to say.  

 

So, here’s what really happened.  If you look at the longer video instead of the shorter video, which everyone should do—well, you’ll see basically the same stuff.  But also, you’ll see somebody else saying bad things, too, besides our school group, at the very end of the video.  Not that we were saying bad things, because we weren’t.  And does the fact that other people said bad things get me off the hook somehow?  Just wondering.

 

Actually, don’t even look at the longer video.  Just take my word for it, right here in this letter.  What happened is, I showed up an hour early for the bus when the teachers had told me to do some sightseeing on the National Mall.  My entire group of classmates joined me at the bus stop an hour early.  What could possibly go wrong?  A bunch of MAGA hat-wearing teenagers with an hour to kill at a bus stop in D.C., on the weekend of multiple planned protests?  

 

So, I was standing there minding my own business, when four African Americans started calling all fifty of us horrible names!  I immediately sought and obtained permission from our chaperone to lead my classmates in some school chants.  Because what better way to quiet a few hecklers than to do some school chants?

 

So, I was standing at the top of our human pyramid, just finishing off our final chant, when finally the vile torrent of verbal abuse from those four individuals literally shook me to my core once and for all.  I came tumbling down onto the concrete walkway.  

 

It was at that very moment that I heard a loud drumbeat and saw a Native American man approaching.  

 

“Get out of here, white man!” he shouted as his companions cackled with glee.  The crowd of awestruck onlookers parted as he pushed his way through.  

 

“Not today,” I said to myself.  “Not today.”

 

My classmates and I tried to show that we came in peace.  We all simultaneously stretched out our arms to offer the man hugs of solidarity and friendship.  

 

He ignored our gestures of goodwill and insouciantly persisted in banging on his drum.  With that, I simply remained where I was.  He approached closer and closer to me.  Why had he singled me out?  I didn’t know it at the time, but we now know that it was all for a publicity stunt that he and his people, the Native Americans of this continent, have been cooking up for centuries.  A publicity stunt that finally culminated with me at the center of a public humiliation that they orchestrated.  With me as their proverbial whipping boy.

 

Yes, I could have just gotten out of the way of the drum, the cameras, the elderly Marine veteran—but, as I said, they long ago chose to single me out for this public excoriation.  I simply decided to confront my fate head-on.

 

I said a quick prayer asking the Good Lord to grant me a full measure of snark, sarcasm, and scornfulness.  

 

I stood in his personal space.  No, wait, he stood in mine!  It was my personal space, in fact.  But I did inch over just a tad bit closer to where his personal space was located.  

 

The man was wielding a tremendous club, which he was using to pound away on his drum, but which he could easily have turned on me personally at any time.  If I had been blowing a bubble of Big League Chew, for example, I do believe that his weapon-like drum implement could have endangered the well-being of said bubble.  That’s how tense I felt the situation to be.  

 

I was extremely relieved when the situation did not turn physical.  In conclusion, please do not believe the vast left wing conspiracy that suggests I or any of my classmates were at fault for any of this.  Would you believe, even for a moment, their ridiculous claim that a group of teenage boys wearing MAGA hats was chanting, “Build that wall,” and “Trump 2020?”  It’s sheer lunacy!

 

And seriously—“Build that wall?”  Prior to all this media uproar, I wasn’t even aware that the chant existed.  This was my first time at a protest, march, rally, or any type of event where people say things that aren’t school chants. 

 

In fact, the only thing that came out of my mouth the entire D.C. trip was a school chant.  The only things that came out of my classmates’ mouths were school chants and more school chants.  Don’t look back at the videoes, though.  Just trust me.  Trust this letter from me to you.  And remember, this letter was not written by my parents’ lawyer.  The fourth and final typo (which just appeared in this very paragraph) proves that it was written by a kid like me!  

 

Please don’t expel me. If anything, I feel I should be rewarded for valor, for successfully de-escalating a volatile situation by smirking in the face of an elderly Marine veteran.  Backed up by dozens of jeering, MAGA hat-wearing teens whooping it up right behind me.  I feel the time has come to finally be recognized for my astonishing peace-building methods.  

 

So, please just go ahead and give me the highest award the school can offer.  And don’t expel me.  And could you please write me a college letter of rec when you get a chance?  Thank you so much.

 

Sincerely,

 

The Kid Who Stared and Smirked at That Elderly Marine Veteran in D.C. and Wants People to Believe He Didn’t Do a Blessed Thing Wrong 

How Much More Juice Can We Squeeze Out of the MAGA Hat Boy Story?  Plenty, That’s How Much.

How Much More Juice Can We Squeeze Out of the MAGA Hat Boy Story? Plenty, That’s How Much.