On June 17, 1968, it was a humid afternoon, cloudy and very quiet day. The draft notice had arrived to my front door. I remember how my heart and blood were pumping up to 100 mph. Opening up the letter, scanning the first few lines on the letter made my face go pale, War. My mind went else where when the word "War" appear on the letter. War? Why? Why a guy like me? I was to good for war. I had a clear full ride to a scholarship with Harvard. Why? What could I tell my parents? My father would be proud of me and mother would be scared but okay with it. I'm not a soldier. I won't kill someone. I will never be able to hold a gun. What to do?
Days went by after the letter for war arrived. I spent my summer in Armour meatpacking plant. Smelling like dead meat. It never went away. You were stuck with it. I couldn't get the Draft notice out of my thoughts. People said the best way to get away from a Draft notice is by going to Canada, but I wouldn't want to disapoint my parents. There's no other way to get away from this notice.
I understand the "father would be proud of me". My father was proud of me when I came home. So proud of the medals I had won. My mother was scared for me too, mothers and girlfriends are always scared we won’t come home. Did you see your girl when you came home? I didn’t even talk to mine.
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