I grew up on a farm in the small town of Carlock, Illinois. I told my Dad if he would buy a radio for the tractor, I would plow all night, plus I could listen to the draft lottery. I plowed for about an hour when the lottery was starting, then chickened out and turned the radio off before they read the first 30 birthdays.
After about 15 minutes, with the radio on again, they read the second set of numbers, and I didn’t hear my birthday called (September 14), so when they re-read the first 30 numbers again, in between the time he said September and then 14, it seemed my whole life flashed before me.
Lifted the plow out of the ground, jumped into the ‘Stang, and went to town and got drunk.
Arrived Republic of Vietnam July 9, 1970.