Shakespeare Saved My Life

Back in the Paleozoic era when I was in high school, there was this thing called the draft. No, it wasn't a pleasant little breeze wafting along to keep you cool. Oh no, it was the way Uncle Sam maintained canon fodder for the rather unpopular war in Vietnam. They could actually force a young man like me into the army. That left us Mormon boys who wanted to go on a mission with a year of jeopardy since we were draft able at 18 but had to be 19 to serve a mission. We had four choices after graduation, go to Vietnam, go to college, go to Canada, or go to jail. I had seen both Canada and jail and wasn't much impressed with either one but really couldn't afford college since my dad had died that Spring and my grades, though adequate, were less than stellar. My seminary teacher, Brother Empty, rode to my rescue. He had seen my performance as Nick Bottom, the weaver, in Shakespeare's "A Mid-Summer Night's Dream" and wangled a drama scholarship for me at Ricks College in the frozen tundra of Rexburg, Idaho. That scholarship, coupled with $115 a month from Social Security allowed me to major in draft-evasion and minor in girls until I got my call to the Guatemala-El Salvador Mission. The scholarship was for $200 a semester which covered tuition and most of my fees and books. While in Guatemala, they came up with the lottery system for the draft. They put all 366 possible birthdates in a big fish bowl then pulled them out one at a time. When they drew the one with your birth date on it, that became your draft number. They drafted numbers 100 to 150 each year. My number was 256. They would draft women and children before me. Don't get me wrong, I'm no grand peace nick. I wound up joining the Air Force later and served for more than twenty years. I just wanted to serve as a missionary first. Thanks to Mr. Shakespeare and Brother Empty I was able to do just that.