An aerial view of the USS Arizona Memorial with a US Navy (USN) Tour Boat, USS Arizona Memorial Detachment, moored at the pier as visitor disembark to visit and pay their respects to the Sailors and Marines who lost their lives during the attack on Pearl Harbor on December 7, 1941. Credit: DoD photo by: PH3(AW/SW) JAYME PASTORIC, USN

There was something terribly morbid and terribly wrong about the report of FBI Director Kash Patel’s VIP snorkeling dive on USS Arizona. It’s yet one more example of this administration’s casual indecency.

I take it personally, and this is why.

Two sailors who died on the Arizona were from my hometown, Arroyo Grande, population 1,090 in the 1940 census. Wayne Morgan and Jack Scruggs were grammar school classmates here, long before they became shipmates.

Morgan, as an 18-year-old, had visited Japan as a crewman on an oil tanker sailing out of Port San Luis. Scruggs, a trombonist in Arizona’s band, once played “Happy Birthday” on the accordion for the wife of Adm. Isaac Kidd.

Scruggs’s body was recovered from Pearl Harbor. All that remained of Kidd was his Naval Academy class ring, fused to a bulkhead.

Arizona’s destruction had a tragic impact here: 25 of the 58 seniors in the high school’s class of 1942 were Nisei, or second-generation Japanese. On April 30, 1942, they were taken away to be incarcerated in the Arizona desert. Many never came back to Arroyo Grande.

More than 80 years later, Project 85 is devoted to using refined DNA science to identify the battleship’s casualties. Many of the unidentified sailors and Marines were buried, some in mass graves, in the Punchbowl Cemetery on Oahu.

In December, those remains will be disinterred for DNA testing.

I just sent Project 85 a sample of my DNA. Another unidentified Arizona sailor, Electrician’s Mate 3c Charles B. Taylor, is my cousin—we share a common grandfather—and, God willing, they might find him so that my family can bring him home.

“Home” would be the Boone Creek Cemetery in Missouri. His mother, my Aunt Aggie, is buried there, along with Charles A. Taylor, the sailor’s father.

Despondent over his lost son, in July 1942, Charles A. Taylor walked out to the middle of one of his farm fields, put a .22 rifle to his heart, and pulled the trigger.

Aunt Aggie Gregory Taylor lived for 38 years with this double loss. She moved to Minnesota. We never met, but every year, without fail, she sent birthday and Christmas cards to us in Arroyo Grande.

So, yes, Kash Patel, in my mind, you had no right to your little “joy dive.”

Jim Gregory
Arroyo Grande

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