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View Diary: Cheers and Jeers: Rum and Coke FRIDAY! (133 comments)

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  •  Where was I, you ask? (30+ / 0-)

    I had been up all night watching TV because I had turned night into day, doing nothing in particular.

    I had dropped out of UCLA for I thought "one semester" while I decided on what the hell to do with myself during that period. I had had lots of college, and was totally burnt out.

    I asked my parents if I could come home for awhile (to Redondo Beach, CA) from living on campus, and they agreed. They soon wondered "just what the hell was this 22-year-old going to do with his life?"

    I had gone in for my draft physical because I was a drop out, and was told I was 1-A and would be drafted soon.  I was resigned to it and had no where to go, I thought. Vietnam was then only a smoldering ember in late 1963.

    In any event, on Nov. 22 I received my draft notice in the mail and told to report on or about the end of December. At about 11 a.m. soon afterward our neighbor, Ethel, who had a loud, thick Georgia accent, burst through our front door without knocking and shouted to my father, "Mike, the President's been shot!!!" She was loud and distraught and wringing her hands. She left quickly and we went to the TV. You know the rest. My father and I bonded over the TV all weekend and wept together. He had been "my first President."

    It made me forget my entry into the U.S. Army that very day. It was one of the singular days of my life.

    My draft notice was "signed" by John F. Kennedy.

    "The soil under the grass is dreaming of a young forest, and under the pavement the soil is dreaming of grass."--Wendell Berry

    by Wildthumb on Fri Nov 22, 2013 at 04:47:06 PM PST

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