School is a prison...not even close.

Did you ever say this about your principal “He runs this place like a prison!” or “He treats us like prisoners!”?

One little known fact is that I actually know how to do that, because I worked in a prison. It all started because of an effort to make the military draft more fair.

In December, 1969, the first modern draft lottery was held. Every male aged 18-35 was included. In that first lottery were the birthdates of all of us men, including three (3) men would eventually become president. Only one of the three would serve anytime in the military.

My December 9 birthday has always been disappointing. I was born too late to do anything with my classmates taking driver's ed. my junior year.. Born within three weeks of Christmas, and with five (5) younger siblings, the dreaded combination birthday-Christmas present was my curse. Being born in December was no fun. The lottery insured that it would continue as “No Funember”.

December birth dates were drawn for the first lottery at a high rate. Twenty (20) of the thirty one(31) dates were lower than the highest number drafted (195). That is, being born in December was bad luck. This was the first drawing I ever “won”. My number was 43.

I was notified of my reclassification and given the opportunity to appear before the draft board to appeal. I was a teacher in a county where “no teacher has ever been drafted out of this county”. I appealed.

Included in my appeal were letters from my principal, superintendent, a local pastor of a church I didn’t attend, etc. The hearing was scheduled for summer. My principal, superintendent and business manager all drove me to the session with my draft board. When I saw my file it appeared to be about 3 inches thick.

My superintendent praised my teaching. He said they usually didn’t try to keep teachers hired just before school started, but they needed me. It was all very flattering. The only response from the draft board president was “He’s had his deferment” meaning I wasn’t getting another. On the drive home my superintendent commented he had never seen such a “bunch of hard asses” I agreed.

In February, 1971, I got my “Greetings” letter. Induction was to be immediate. Attached to the notice was a note that they would allow me to complete the school year. In May, I got my final notice to appear on June 17.

Since my born spur was not recognized until much later, I passed my physical, and was shipped off to Ft. Lewis Washington for basic training. Two months later I was selected to train as a Military Policeman (MP) and shipped to Ft. Gordon GA, along with a bunch of other teachers who had been drafted. One of them was a teacher whose father was chair of the Whiteside County Republican party. So much for “Never having a teacher drafted…”

After a brief time on traffic patrol and guard duty, I was transferred to the Southeast Central Stockade, the military prison located at my post, Ft. Gordon, GA. We collected prisoners from all branches of the military from anywhere in the southern states. We had murders, rapists, drug dealers and robbers. They were in maximum security along with any severely mentally ill prisoners.

 Most of the prisoners were guys who enlisted and decided they didn't want to stay in the military so they went AWOL  We held them in Medium Security. I would spend the rest of time in the army working in the prison. Fortunately I worked in the administrative office. Eventually through a series of promotions, I moved from the  lowest rank to the highest and was in charge of the administrative section, but that’s another story.

I never let students know that I had worked in a prison before becoming a principal. I thought it might confirm the belief that I was running a prison instead of a school.