Number Three

We had a big party scheduled at my apartment on December 7th, 1969. We were tired of living in uncertainity. On that night, there would be a nationally televised draft lottery for service in Viet Nam. The purpose of the lottery was to lessen uncertainity. We had plenty of beer and high hopes that our numbers, based on our birthdays, would not be called until much later and in the meantime, we would drink and smoke.

In 1966, we had to take a draft test. The test was apparently intended to unearth those who entered college simply to avoid the draft. .The night before the draft test, our band played until 2 in the morning at the M and B. By the time we finished up and got our gear out of the place it was pretty close to 3. The draft test was scheduled for 8 and we were warned that you better not be late. 

So, hungover, I made my bleary way to the testing site which of course was packed. The test had 150 items. I guessed at most of them as did almost everybody else. I saw a lot of coin flipping going on and many a glance at the second hand of the clock. Depending on where the second hand was on the clock, we chose the multiple choice answers to questions we had no idea about. First quadrant A..second quadrant B etc and if you had it down to two possibilities flip the coin.

My mind was foggy from the night before and at some point, I just wanted to get the whole thing over as best I could, get back to the dorm and crash.

We never got the results but someone somewhere had them. 

A couple years later on the night of the lottery, we gathered at my apartment to learn our fate. By this time, I had graduated from college and had embarked on my teaching career.

They drew the first birthday and it was Sept 14th. Everybody cheered because no one at the party had been born on that day. The second birthday was drawn and once again, everybody cheered. They drew the third number and everybody cheered again. Everybody but me. The birthdate was December 30....my birthday.

I yelled out  "God damn it."

I stormed into my bedroom. The party was over for me. Everybody left me to my thoughts.

I was number 3.

I was a goner.....just a question of when not if.

Needless to say my concept of long term career planning went down the drain.

I continued as best I could with my teaching job but I didn't take any shit from anybody.

I let my hair grow. I started a beard. I broke the rules. I took many risks in terms of instruction. Hell, if this was my last shot at teaching, I was gonna proceed the way I thought was right, not based on the traditions of teaching that proceeded me, the one's that I resented as a student.  I became a non-traditional teacher went over great with the kids but not so much with the administration. 

Every day, I figured would be my last day. Three of my colleagues were drafted. I told them that I'd be seeing them soon.

Days turned into weeks, weeks into months, months into years. Every day filled with more anxiety and more non-tradition. 

Finally around 1973, I figured that I was safe from Viet Nam at least but I still had admisistrators after my scalp.

Meanwhile my cousin Tom's number had come up and many of my friends enlisted because they knew that their numbers would come up soon.

I ooposed the war. I wasn't gonna enlist. I had important work to do if they let me do it.

Somehow, I got tenure which was a joke because I could still be drafted.

My number never came up.

Don't know why.

I was prime meat.

Then I remembered the draft test. Was it possible that I had scored high enough to be exempt?

I had a roomie at the time who attempted to calim that he was conscinetious objector, which I'm sure he was. He told his draft board that he had only been in one fight in his life and he "immediately got pummelled." His application was turned down and he got drafted. He immediatley took off to Canada. I kep waiting for somebody to show up at my apartment looking for "Bob" and finding me instead.

Nobody ever showed up.

I continued with my teaching career and somewhere along the line, my non-traditional ideas had become accepted and were now being used by other teachers around me as I moved on to even more non-traditional practices which ended up being imitated and accepted. I had seen a lot of bad teaching in my student life and I was determined not to do what they had done.

I was pretty fearless when it came to innovation.

I've never been able to figure out how I escaped. 

I was talking to my cousin Tom about this subject a few months ago after he declared with graet irony that the draft lottery was the only time he ever won anything...that "win" being drafted.

I told him that the only reason I could think that I wasn't drafted was because I had done so well on the draft test which really made no sense to me based on my condition while taking the test.

Tom figured it out.

He figured that I didn't do so well on the test. He speculated that I had got such a low mark on the test that I was deemed too stupid to even be drafted.

Hell, that might be true.

I was too stupid to fight in Viet Nam but smart enough to teach.

I believed that for awhile until I checked out the  standards for exemtion on the test. There were 150 items on the test and if you got 70 or more correct you earned a temporary exemption and if you got 80 or more correct that exemption became more than temporary.

It's all a memory now.

My friends made it back from Nam.

Bob has returned from Canada thanks to amnesty.

Still somewhere in the back of my mind, I am always number 3.

And the future continues to be uncertain.

Perhaps this is why God created Xanax.