On the eve of the first lottery, I sat in the fraternity house, terrified along with most of the brothers. I was a soph and a determined anti-war demonstator. As each number was called, each of us feared the worst. The media was speculating that the first third would be drafted, though the actual call-ups were determined by local draft boards.

As it turned out, my number, while not a sure thing, was dangerous enough to be worried, though I still had a student deferment until I graduated. I believe my grades improved thereafter. I did get a summons for the demeaning physical in downtown LA, and a subsequent I-A status, but the war wound down and I was never called.

When I recall the life-changing event that this became for many of my generation, I feel extremely fortunate at the way things turned out.