When the FBI Polygraphed Me to Ask If I Was Gay
Last vestige of the Lavender Scare
The FBI agents didn’t shine a hot light in my eyes, but they might as well have. The examination room was so small and stifling I felt like I was being grilled in a scene out of a bad movie.
Agent: “You told us during pre-examination that being mean to your sister as a child was the thing you are most ashamed of in life. Were you telling the truth?”
Me: (struggling to keep my breathing under control) Yes.
Agent: “Have you ever had contact with an enemy agent of the United States that you have not reported to the proper authorities?”
Me: (relieved to get an easy question) No.
Agent: Do you love your country?
Me: (relieved again) Yes.
Agent: Have you ever had sexual contact with another male, no matter how slight?
Me: (heart racing, sweat running down my forehead as I lie) No.
Agent: Have you ever had sexual contact, no matter how slight, with any male member of the U.S. military?
Me: (struggling to remain still as instructed, knowing I was close to vomiting, still lying) No.
