Episode 1 - Beginning

The first, and one of the hardest things, about writing a personal memoir is to find the beginning.

I've decided to begin at my late teen years and for the moment to make only fleeting references to my childhood. Details will filter in as I think.

My parents divorced when I was 2 years old. He was a brooding violent man with a raging case of undiagnosed PTSD. Mom was a devout Baptist lady with a strong moral compass and a liberal bend.

Children were her passion; she was a natural Mom. She raised me but the 60's shaped me.

I grew up mostly in the desert Southwest. By junior or senior year I was well on the path of a 60's style radical. The war in Vietnam loomed large over everything else. I was opposed to the war but outside of a small group around me I had no strong support. I was just another kid.

Then I graduated and the report for the draft pre-induction physical letters started arriving. Mom was scared and alarmed by my refusal to cooperate. I began to move restlessly - always waiting to the last moment to legally notify the draft Board of my new residence. I used recruiters to keep me off the draft lists by seeming to be an enlistment. I moved again and then the final unavoidable noticed arrived. I was to surrender in the morning or be charged. Quakers offered to chain themselves to me. The underground promised Canada. I decided to refuse induction and make the good fight.

I stood in a room with lines of young men. I alone refused to raise my hand and swear an oath to yield all to the war machine. They noticed me right away and I was hustled away from the others lest I influence some like-minded individual.

The room was somewhat short on individuals. I was taunted and jeered as I was led away. A strong lecture was delivered with a promise of how "this will go on your permanent record". I was told to "yield now" and to "accept the draft" and they would all act like it never happened.

I refused again and they were alarmed. Hippies, possibly some local Yippies, were outside shouting my name. In the interest of avoiding a larger demonstration I was shoved out the front door and told to expect the law to pick me up. That's when I went into hiding and became radical in deed as well as rhetoric.