Like every other male our age at UW-Madison, my best friends and I sat up waiting to hear what our numbers would be. It was a tumoultous time and before we would graduate we would see numerous demonstrations, TA strikes, riots, would get pepper-gassed, and were there when the Army Math Research Center was bombed. We saw leaders of the time murdered (Martin and Bobby), race riots, and anti-war demonstrations and riots (Kent State). Anyway, the night of the lottery everyone was going to get drunk – either because they were happy they had high numbers or to drown their sorrows if they had low numbers! I was fortunate to draw #308 – I’ve never been "lucky" at lotteries so that was to my advantage for that one.
My brother was less fortunate – he drew No. 95 and graduated in 1970, so he enlisted before he got drafted. He was a computer whiz so the army promised him he could teach Computer Science at West Point if he would enlist. Of course, that never happened. He was lucky though – they sent him to Korea instead of Vietnam. It wasn’t all that bad – he met his wife, who was a Korean gal teaching English to other Koreans. They eventually got married, had a son, he brought her home, and they’re still married to this day. So life worked out for him in spite of his low lottery number.