For the first time since World War II the government held a lottery drawing at the Selective Service National Headquarters in Washington, D.C. It determined the order of call for induction during the calendar year 1970. It was for all registrants born between January 1, 1944, and December 31, 1950. This was a change from the pattern of drafting the oldest man first, which had previously been the practice.
They put 366 capsules, each containing a date of the year, into a large glass container. Then on national television and radio they drew out one capsule at a time, opened it and read the date. You would think that on that evening, December 1, 1969, that I would be standing by the radio or TV anxiously awaiting the results but I wasn’t. I was in the library at Iowa Wesleyan studying for a test.
A friend of mine, Calvin Crane, a fellow student at Iowa Wesleyan, was in the work-study program at the college. He was an AV technician. When a professor needed an overhead, a projector or whatever they went to Calvin. He had a desk and storage area in the lower level of the library. I often saw him rolling around equipment on a cart.
That night, December 1, I was in the lower level of the library studying for a test. Calvin came by pushing his cart and informed me that he would be listening to the drawing and I could come and listen to it, too. I told him I wasn’t that interested but that I might at least check in with him later. Somehow just sitting around waiting for them to draw 366 capsules and read the date didn’t sound too exciting. I was only interested in one date, September 13th. What number would it be? He said if he heard it he would let me know.
Shortly after the drawing started Calvin came down the hall and said, “You’re first! September 14th is first.” I said “September 14th?” And Calvin said, “Yes, September 14th is first!” I said, “I’m September 13th.” Calvin laughed and said, “You are lucky!” and went back to listening.
Later that evening Calvin came by again and said “One seventy-five, You’re lucky! They probably won’t ever get to you.” I asked him what he meant by that and told me the Selective Service would reorder their files to the order birth dates were drawn and that Henry County would meet it’s quota long before they got to one seventy-five. He was right.
If you weren’t selected that first year then you dropped into a second category when the new eighteen olds were added to the mix. Each year after that it was less and less likely that they would ever get to you.
I saw many friends leave and go into the service. Some of them never came back. Most of those who did were somehow different when they returned. Some of them described the horror of war and while others said nothing. It was a difficult time! I thought we would never let it happen again.
Sunday, January 28, 2007
Sunday, January 21, 2007
Staying in School
I went to summer school after my freshman year of college and again after my second year. Back then you needed to stay on pace to graduate in 4 years or it could jeopardize your draft status. After my earlier experience with the draft board I wanted to avoid that at all costs. I went to summer school at Iowa Wesleyan both summers and did Ok.
Still after two years at Southeastern Community College it appeared that my critics were right. I was not really college material. In the spring of 1969 I took interest surveys and aptitude tests. After several consultations with my advisor it was determined that I was best suited to be an industrial draftsman. The assessments said I had a high aptitude in math and would do well in that field. Go figure! I lost my faith in those tests right there!
Nevertheless, wanting to stay in school and believing I couldn’t get in a four-year college I enrolled and was accepted in the two-year industrial draftsman program at Southeastern. I planned on attending until late that summer when one day in early August my Dad said someone from Iowa Wesleyan had been in the store and said that Wesleyan was really hurting for students because of the war and would take almost anyone. Dad thought I should apply.
Not really believing I had a chance I went through the whole application process. I was surprised that I received a letter of acceptance in just a few days. I was accepted on academic probation. All I needed was a 2.8 GPA my first semester and I was in. If I didn’t get a 2.8 my slate was clean and it would be as if I had never been there at all.
I don’t know exactly what happened? Part of it was maturity. Part of it was that the college was very supportive and made sure I did well, and part of it was the fear of the draft. Anyway, I had a 3.1 GPA after that first semester and was never in academic jeopardy again, eventually ending up on the dean’s list.
In the two years I had been at the community college I had been an English major, a Physical Education major, a business major, and back to an English major. When I enrolled at Iowa Wesleyan I decided that I would be a physical education major.
Olan Ruble, a famous teacher and coach was my advisor. He had coached a number of Olympic women’s basketball teams and was well known. Google him today and you will find that he was a pioneer in women’s sports nationally and internationally. It was him who brought the Russian women’s basketball team to Mt. Pleasant for a game.
He was a genuinely kind person and very good to me but after a semester as a physical education major I knew it was not for me. I told my sister, Nancy of my dissatisfaction with that major and that I just didn’t know what direction to go. Nancy told me a story about a man who had gone into elementary education. She reminded me of my love for teaching swimming lessons and told me male teachers were in great demand. The rest is history.
Still after two years at Southeastern Community College it appeared that my critics were right. I was not really college material. In the spring of 1969 I took interest surveys and aptitude tests. After several consultations with my advisor it was determined that I was best suited to be an industrial draftsman. The assessments said I had a high aptitude in math and would do well in that field. Go figure! I lost my faith in those tests right there!
Nevertheless, wanting to stay in school and believing I couldn’t get in a four-year college I enrolled and was accepted in the two-year industrial draftsman program at Southeastern. I planned on attending until late that summer when one day in early August my Dad said someone from Iowa Wesleyan had been in the store and said that Wesleyan was really hurting for students because of the war and would take almost anyone. Dad thought I should apply.
Not really believing I had a chance I went through the whole application process. I was surprised that I received a letter of acceptance in just a few days. I was accepted on academic probation. All I needed was a 2.8 GPA my first semester and I was in. If I didn’t get a 2.8 my slate was clean and it would be as if I had never been there at all.
I don’t know exactly what happened? Part of it was maturity. Part of it was that the college was very supportive and made sure I did well, and part of it was the fear of the draft. Anyway, I had a 3.1 GPA after that first semester and was never in academic jeopardy again, eventually ending up on the dean’s list.
In the two years I had been at the community college I had been an English major, a Physical Education major, a business major, and back to an English major. When I enrolled at Iowa Wesleyan I decided that I would be a physical education major.
Olan Ruble, a famous teacher and coach was my advisor. He had coached a number of Olympic women’s basketball teams and was well known. Google him today and you will find that he was a pioneer in women’s sports nationally and internationally. It was him who brought the Russian women’s basketball team to Mt. Pleasant for a game.
He was a genuinely kind person and very good to me but after a semester as a physical education major I knew it was not for me. I told my sister, Nancy of my dissatisfaction with that major and that I just didn’t know what direction to go. Nancy told me a story about a man who had gone into elementary education. She reminded me of my love for teaching swimming lessons and told me male teachers were in great demand. The rest is history.
Sunday, January 14, 2007
Burning Draft Cards
During the 60s the country was deeply mired in the unpopular Viet Nam war. Young men were being drafted and sent to fight in this far away war. Protesters demonstrated on college campuses and marched in the streets. Many draft eligible men burned their draft cards in a public demonstration of their distain. Burning a draft card was a federal offense and those who did it were often arrested.
The University of Iowa campus was a hot spot for demonstrations and in the news a lot. Iowa Wesleyan students tried to copy University students but on a much smaller scale. The FBI visited students known to be involved as a method of intimidation more than anything else. I knew one student who was identified as a leader of the local dissidents and visited often.
In 1968 I was still at Southeastern Community College and only read or heard about the things happening at the University of Iowa and Iowa Wesleyan. There were a few posters around our campus but not much was happening.
In the fall of that year I was taking Speech I and having a fairly easy time of it because of my experience in speech and drama in high school. We were assigned different topics and then learned about the different parts of a good speech. We learned we needed a good introduction with a strong attention getter. The teacher thought the first 30 seconds were the most critical. The speeches were usually 3-5 minutes. That seemed like a long time then but seems very short now.
We were assigned a 3-minute speech on a topic of our choice with the focus on our introduction attention getter. I had a weekend to think it over. Headlines in the press on Saturday were about a University of Iowa student who burned his draft card. He was arrested immediately. A year or so later he was sentenced to 2 years in prison.
I decided that was what I was going to do, burn my draft card. Well, not really my draft card, but the card that came with it that was exactly the same size and from a distance indistinguishable from the real thing. Then I planned to talk about the origins of the conflict and it’s impact on the youth of America. I saw the fake card burning as a good way to get everyone’s attention and accomplish the assignment. I had no idea about the stir it would cause.
Eager to get it over with I volunteered to be first. The teacher reviewed the goal of the lesson and then went and sat down in the back of the room. “You're on, Perry.” She said.
I went to the podium turned and faced the class and pulled the card out my breast pocket and then a lighter out of my jeans. I held the card up about eye level and then lit the lighter and held it to the corner of the card. The instructor screamed! The class gasped and the card was gone in a few seconds. I let the last bits of it drop to the floor and stepped on it. The instructor was shouting and trying to get out of her chair. Another teacher in a nearby room came rushing in to see what was happening.
I had to assure my instructor that it really wasn’t my draft card before she let me continue with my speech. She was visibly shaken the rest of the class, but afterward told me I had done an excellent job and she gave me an A. She also told me that if I ever was going to do anything like that again I should tell the instructor in advance.
By lunchtime that day several students and instructors had approached me and said they heard the whole story. Everyone, even the other instructors were quite amazed by the whole thing.
The University of Iowa campus was a hot spot for demonstrations and in the news a lot. Iowa Wesleyan students tried to copy University students but on a much smaller scale. The FBI visited students known to be involved as a method of intimidation more than anything else. I knew one student who was identified as a leader of the local dissidents and visited often.
In 1968 I was still at Southeastern Community College and only read or heard about the things happening at the University of Iowa and Iowa Wesleyan. There were a few posters around our campus but not much was happening.
In the fall of that year I was taking Speech I and having a fairly easy time of it because of my experience in speech and drama in high school. We were assigned different topics and then learned about the different parts of a good speech. We learned we needed a good introduction with a strong attention getter. The teacher thought the first 30 seconds were the most critical. The speeches were usually 3-5 minutes. That seemed like a long time then but seems very short now.
We were assigned a 3-minute speech on a topic of our choice with the focus on our introduction attention getter. I had a weekend to think it over. Headlines in the press on Saturday were about a University of Iowa student who burned his draft card. He was arrested immediately. A year or so later he was sentenced to 2 years in prison.
I decided that was what I was going to do, burn my draft card. Well, not really my draft card, but the card that came with it that was exactly the same size and from a distance indistinguishable from the real thing. Then I planned to talk about the origins of the conflict and it’s impact on the youth of America. I saw the fake card burning as a good way to get everyone’s attention and accomplish the assignment. I had no idea about the stir it would cause.
Eager to get it over with I volunteered to be first. The teacher reviewed the goal of the lesson and then went and sat down in the back of the room. “You're on, Perry.” She said.
I went to the podium turned and faced the class and pulled the card out my breast pocket and then a lighter out of my jeans. I held the card up about eye level and then lit the lighter and held it to the corner of the card. The instructor screamed! The class gasped and the card was gone in a few seconds. I let the last bits of it drop to the floor and stepped on it. The instructor was shouting and trying to get out of her chair. Another teacher in a nearby room came rushing in to see what was happening.
I had to assure my instructor that it really wasn’t my draft card before she let me continue with my speech. She was visibly shaken the rest of the class, but afterward told me I had done an excellent job and she gave me an A. She also told me that if I ever was going to do anything like that again I should tell the instructor in advance.
By lunchtime that day several students and instructors had approached me and said they heard the whole story. Everyone, even the other instructors were quite amazed by the whole thing.
Monday, January 08, 2007
First Summer
Angela Sue Ross was born of Wednesday, May 1, 1968. May 1 just happens to be my parents wedding anniversary so that has been convenient. It has always helped me remember both. We took Angie home on Saturday morning. We had a nursery ready in the room next to ours. The crib was on the wall next to our room. We had a changing table there, too. It was just a few steps from our bed and we always left the door open.
Becky was the perfect mother and took care of Angie in every way. I was glad of that because it meant I didn’t have to do the diapers very often. I could do it but it wasn’t a job I looked forward to. My job was to make the baby smile and eventually laugh. Angie was born smiling and laughed long before most babies do so that part was easy. She still has a great sense of humor.
Becky was off work for at least 6 weeks but after two was stir crazy from being in the house all of the time. One day when I was getting ready to mow the yard she said she wanted to do it. I agreed to let her, figuring she could handle it or she wouldn’t have asked.
I stayed inside with the baby and Becky went at it. About 10 minutes into the mow a backyard neighbor called almost hysterical. She was screaming about me making Becky mow the yard! She said I was an awful person and she was calling my parents immediately. She did!
I went out and told her what the lady had said. Becky was unruffled by the whole thing and insisted on finishing the lawn. I went back to my babysitting duties in the house and Becky went back to the mowing.
When my Dad called and told me she had called him, too. He said Becky shouldn’t be mowing the yard just two weeks after having the baby. I explained that I didn’t make her do it. He felt I should make her stop. I guess at that point he didn’t know Becky very well.
I don’t think that neighbor ever forgave me and actually reminded me of my terrible offense years later. She was much older and from a time when women rested much longer after childbirth. I wonder what she would say about the hospitals sending new mothers and babies home after one day now?
That summer we took Angie everywhere and she was the life of the party everywhere she went. It was never hard finding someone to help with her because kids and adults were just drawn to her. Well, pretty much the same as now.
I worked at the pool that summer. Becky and Angie came down often and enjoyed the sun and water. Becky even took Senior Lifesaving that summer. Being competitive Becky didn’t hold back and it is a rigorous course so it was very difficult for her.
Becky was the perfect mother and took care of Angie in every way. I was glad of that because it meant I didn’t have to do the diapers very often. I could do it but it wasn’t a job I looked forward to. My job was to make the baby smile and eventually laugh. Angie was born smiling and laughed long before most babies do so that part was easy. She still has a great sense of humor.
Becky was off work for at least 6 weeks but after two was stir crazy from being in the house all of the time. One day when I was getting ready to mow the yard she said she wanted to do it. I agreed to let her, figuring she could handle it or she wouldn’t have asked.
I stayed inside with the baby and Becky went at it. About 10 minutes into the mow a backyard neighbor called almost hysterical. She was screaming about me making Becky mow the yard! She said I was an awful person and she was calling my parents immediately. She did!
I went out and told her what the lady had said. Becky was unruffled by the whole thing and insisted on finishing the lawn. I went back to my babysitting duties in the house and Becky went back to the mowing.
When my Dad called and told me she had called him, too. He said Becky shouldn’t be mowing the yard just two weeks after having the baby. I explained that I didn’t make her do it. He felt I should make her stop. I guess at that point he didn’t know Becky very well.
I don’t think that neighbor ever forgave me and actually reminded me of my terrible offense years later. She was much older and from a time when women rested much longer after childbirth. I wonder what she would say about the hospitals sending new mothers and babies home after one day now?
That summer we took Angie everywhere and she was the life of the party everywhere she went. It was never hard finding someone to help with her because kids and adults were just drawn to her. Well, pretty much the same as now.
I worked at the pool that summer. Becky and Angie came down often and enjoyed the sun and water. Becky even took Senior Lifesaving that summer. Being competitive Becky didn’t hold back and it is a rigorous course so it was very difficult for her.
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