Veteran's Day

Veteran's Day holds a special place in the Sneed family. Not because we have a long and storied history of military service, but for a special reason. I graduated from high school in 1968 with plans to attend the University of Arizona,where I hoped to study biology. In those days tuition was $212 per year, I believe, although that could have been the per-semester tuition. I applied for admission and was accepted. I went to my old dad and asked for the money to enroll. He informed me that guys who want to go to college either get a job or get a scholarship. After all, education was below beer in the Sneed family hierarchy of needs in those days. So I got a job, with plans to enroll second semester. My old man made plans for me to join the Air Force, so we both got to experience disappointment. I lived the first 18 years of my life shuffling from place to place as my father's military career demanded, so I wasn't eager to extend the experience. I got a job working in a fast-food joint, where I met the lovely Mrs. Sneed, who was working through her own educational issues. I managed to save enough to pay my upcoming tuition, which is somewhat of a miracle when you are an eighteen-year-old kid making $1.55 per hour and you are the richest person in the family. Everyone has a pressing need for your hard-earned dough, so there is always pressure on the nestegg. Just before the enrollment period for the Spring 1969 semester my dad came to me with a problem. According to his expert analysis of the family financial situation, he, my mom and my three younger siblings were about to be on the street unless I came up with some dough to bail them out. My dad actually accompanied me to the Southern Arizona Bank while I withdrew $300 and handed it over. Bankroll depleted, I now eyed the Fall of 1969 to begin my college career. I got a better job at a grocery store, $1.60 per hour, with straight day hours and slogged on. Things became more serious with the future lovely Mrs. Sneed and my dreams of being a biologist grew fainter, as other priorities emerged. In April of 1969 we got married. In June of that year I hit the jackpot, job-wise, landing a gig where I earned the unheard of sum of $95.50 per week. Her loveliness was bringing in $65 per week, so we were living large. That is until another relative, Uncle Sam, tried his best to lay waste to our cozy life. In 1969 I became draft-eligible and the same year the government instituted the draft lottery based upon birth dates. I had the good luck to get number 30. I don't know where in the 365 dates one was safe from becoming a draftee, but it was definitely higher than 30, because 3 months later I got my draft notice. I was herded on a bus with 42 other misfortunates and driven to Phoenix, Arizona for a draft physical. The other 42 were judged either "unfit for service" or "bound for Vietnam." I was sent back home to see a lung specialist due to a suspicious spot on my lung. The good news was that I wasn't destined for Vietnam and a possible early demise just yet, but the bad news was that it was possible that I was destined for a slow, agonizing death, as a result of a horrible lung disorder. No real upside there. The trip to the lung guy proved that there was nothing wrong with me. The spot on the xray that concerned the Army so much, proved to be some kind of innocent shadow, possibly from the Army xray tech having dropped his sandwich on the xray image or something. So I returned to the pool of guys who seemed like the sort of guys who would like Vietnam and waited for my new report date. When all hope was gone, we caught a break. For the first time in my short life, the shit did not hit the fan. On November 11, 1969, the lovely Mrs. Sneed went to the doctor, to find that she was pregnant with daughter Sneed. In those days the Army couldn't draft guys who either had children or who were about to have children, so I was out draft-wise. So, every Veteran's Day, we remember our good fortune in having a daughter as super as daughter Sneed. Almost no young men wanted to experience Vietnam as draftees and I was no different, so that is the second best thing that happened that Veteran's Day. In case you are wondering how the college thing worked out, I finally graduated. I was 46 at the time, but hey, I never said I was a fast learner. We at the Merlesneed blog tip our hat to Veterans everywhere and thank them for their service. I would have served too, had things worked out differently, but they didn't. Merle. Things in this blog represented to be fact, may or may not actually be true. The writer is frequently wrong, sometimes just full of it, but always judgemental and cranky Tag: Daily Life Personal Finance Humor