Why?

When I was in evasion training at the Air Force Academy, a couple partners and I had to navigate from point to point in the Colorado mountains, avoiding the “enemy” cadre who were out there hunting us down. We were wearing our camouflage uniforms and makeshift backpacks from old parachute harnesses. One morning, we had a window of time to make contact with “partisans,” people who were friendly to Americans and would give us shelter for the day. But because partisans were putting themselves at risk should they get caught harboring Americans, we were forbidden to look them in the face in order to protect their anonymity.

Our window of time was coming to a close, and we barely managed to make it to the contact point, along with a few other last-minute evaders. The partisans assembled us in one area, and we all sat in the dirt, heads down, waiting for instructions. Sitting in the front of the group, I saw a pair of boots walking back and forth in front of me and my comrades. “Americans,” the male partisan’s voice said, addressing us all. He continued in broken English. “Which one is leader?” Nobody answered. We were supposed to have figured out who the senior ranking cadet was, but we never got an opportunity. Again, the partisan yelled, “I said, Americans, who is leader?” Still no answer, and we all felt pretty uncomfortable with the situation.

Then, a decision was made. “Ping. You will be leader.” The tension was lifted for a moment. I remember thinking, “Sucks to be that guy,” thinking “Ping” was possibly a Chinese exchange cadet in my class.

The tension returned when Ping didn’t answer. “PING! I said you will be leader.” His command was again followed by silence. We all snuck glances left and right wondering when this Ping guy was going to speak up. Just that moment, with my head still down, I noticed the strap of the parachute harness I was wearing was covering the first three letters of the last name on my uniform. I was “Ping.”

From that moment, I got stuck with my new nickname at the Academy. Some of my friends started calling me Ping, and I began signing my comics that I drew for the Academy’s humor magazine as “PING!” When choosing the name for my animation company, I chose PING! Studios, not because I thought anyone would understand it, but simply for my own personal amusement.