Some time ago, I was working in an office one night, and someone barged into the room. He had on a cut-off sweatshirt, I think cut-off jeans, and I know he had loafers on with no socks. I didn't know who he was. He said, "Move and you're dead." And he had a gun pointed right at me. I didn't move, so I am not dead. It turned out the office I was "working" in was the Douglas County Draft Board Office, in Alexandria, Minnesota, and it was a few minutes past midnight, forty years ago tonight, and the fellow with the gun, whom I didn't know, was an F.B.I. agent. The first thought that went through my mind was, "So, Bill, this was not a treasure hunt we were on!"
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