By 1969 I was not too concerned about the draft. I had been called up in 1966, prior to the huge build-up in ‘Nam, and reported for my physical in Ft. Jackson, SC. We had gone through all the physicals except for vision when the Sgt in charge told everyone who wore glasses to take them off and form a line to his right. We then had our vision checked without our glasses and were told to "get back on the bus", meaning that he did not consider us fit for service.

I then entered UGA in the fall of 1967 and watched as the war grew and students began to sweat the draft. On the night of the lottery, we all gathered by whatever TV we could find and watched the results. I remember the cursing, swearing and plans to go to Canada. When my number was called as 265, I knew that I was safe once again. Many of my friends went on to enlist, get married, or tried to disappear. On one hand, I felt guilty about not serving since my father had served in WWII, but as I began to see how senseless the was was, I felt at peace with myself.