Meet the Parents, Canada, and the Draft

Meet the Parents, Canada, and the Draft

This post jumps back to an earlier time period. This takes place after I met Donna but before my entering the Air Force. In relation to my other blog posts this kinda follows, with some overlap, “Standing In-Line” and is before the “Can't Hear You When You Scream” post. My next post will be a follow up to this one and at that point I plan to jump back to 1973.

It was the fall of 1968 and I decided to drop out of college (Valparaiso University). With my girlfriend Donna, who would become my wife the next year, I took a train to Toronto, Canada. The plan was to look into emigrating to Canada with the purpose of avoiding the draft. Originally I was planning to head out to California but Donna reminded me that I would likely have to deal with the draft sooner or later so it would be a good idea to check out Canada. I had previously looked into joining the Peace Corps. At that time there were many young draft age guys doing the same. The Peace Corps essentially said thanks kid, come back when you get a degree or a usable skill. Hold on there, I'm an American, white, privileged, male, and a first tier baby boomer to boot, I need a skill too?

We picked Toronto because it was a big Canadian city that was close and supposedly had a large American ex-pat community. Once in Toronto we found an attic room in a house that rented by the week. After exploring the city a bit for a couple of days we set out to find the underground American draft resistance community. We headed toward the university and after a few inquires found some draft resisters. Everyone was very friendly, and supportive. It was a very tight-knit community and very welcoming. Lots of Canadians, at least the ones we interacted with, were very supportive. In fact I felt more support in regards to my views on the war and resisting the draft in Toronto than I had in the States. I soon learned that I should seek out Naomi Wall. Naomi's husband was a Professor at the U of Toronto, at least that's how I remember it. She was part of the Toronto anti-draft movement and a key member of TADP (Toronto AntiDraft Program). I got the contact information and called her. She had me come to her house where she explained to me what was involved in gaining landing/immigrant status. She cautioned me as to what I could be getting myself into but was also supportive and positive with plenty of practical suggestions. Naomi gave me the names of places that would hire American draft dodgers and even set up a couple of interviews. It was going to be important to have a job lined up to gain landing status. The best way to attain this status was to go back to the States, get everything I needed, and apply at a border crossing. As I recall there was a point system to gain landing status. Some border stations were known to be sympathetic and some were not. Naomi had a list of the “sympathetic” crossing stations and directed me to one in Buffalo. Points were gained by a variety of things, such as having a job offer, education, references, and finances. If you had a college degree you would pretty much qualify. (Sheesh, everyone wants you to have a college degree – my parents, employers, the Peace Corps, and now Canada...) There was a minimum amount of money they wanted you to have. If you had a job lined up I think the amount was something like $500. Naomi also told me that if during my interview at the border certain things happened, I should stop the process, go back to the US, and then contact her. I did not want to apply and be turned down because then it would be on record and make it a lot tougher. I remember reading an article about American Vietnam draft resisters in Canada many years later and Naomi was prominently mentioned. Every American ex-pat I met while there either knew her or at least knew of her.

Naomi Wall on the phone working with TADP

After six weeks we returned to the States so I could get what I needed to emigrate to Canada and gain landing status. I had a job lined up at a big department store, where they told me to just let them know when I returned. Returning home, after stopping off in Valparaiso for a few weeks, I discovered that my parents were not going to help and in fact blocked me from removing money from my bank account. I still had a joint account with my mother. In New York, men of 19 could be drafted but were still not considered adults in the legal sense until 21. Women, while exempt from the draft, were considered adults at 18. Since my family was so against my going to Canada to avoid the draft, Donna started to caution me about doing it as she felt she may have unduly influenced me to look at going to Canada in the first place and did not want to be responsible for widening the rift that already existed between my parents and myself, one she already felt was largely due to her.

Donna's introduction to my family the previous Thanksgiving weekend became the infamous “Donna Thanksgiving incident”. I had told my parents that I would not be coming home from school for Thanksgiving. I had planned to stay in Valparaiso with Donna. At the last minute our friends offered us a ride back east if we wanted. We decided to take it and spend a few days in New York City. We found a fairly cheap room. It was a bit ratty and yet still cost more than we preferred to pay given we were college students with limited funds. We mostly hung out in the Village (Greenwich).

Friday we decided we should visit our parents since we were getting serious and they'd never met us. Friday we went to Donna's parents house so I could meet her parents. Mom was nice, Dad, indifferent, well he basically ignored me. Saturday we borrowed a car and went out to my parents' house. When I showed up with Donna, they exploded. It was not because of Donna. It was because I was in NY for Thanksgiving and was not considerate enough to show up. They escorted Donna to the den and then proceeded to admonish me for being inconsiderate, hurting their feelings, and a host of other injuries I had inflicted on them and the family. Not much of an introduction for Donna and so much for my family making a good impression on her. She was left to feel that she was the problem and would never be accepted by my family. That kind of set the tone for all future interactions as Donna would eventually become my first wife. Unfortunately this meet the parents fiasco never did not turn out to have a good side. It still isn't something we look back on and laugh about.

We ended up leaving. We had to catch our ride back to Valparaiso the next day and we had to get the borrowed car back. It was late. We decided we would rather not be dealing with any of our parents. So we decided to get a room nearby and then drive back to Donna's parents house to return the car in the morning. We found a motel and when we asked for a room the guy at the desk quoted us an hourly rate. After pausing for a moment, I asked him how much for the entire night. The hourly rate was not making sense to me. He paused and looked at us for a moment and then told us he could let us have a room for the night and gave us a reasonable price. We took it but I was confused. It wasn't until later that I realized what was going on. I was obviously still pretty naive at this point in my life...

The Thanksgiving debacle was followed by us leaving school a short time after that without telling anyone which led to the ensuing FBI thing (see blog post: Standing in Line). So you can see why Donna could have felt that the rift was largely due to her. For sure my plans to leave the country and avoid the draft were not helping and in a way it was a joint decision since we were planning to go together. But my parents knew that I had been against the war and the draft for some time. My Father, who was also against the war, was of the WWII generation and believed that you were obligated to do your part whether you agreed with it or not. I believed it was my obligation to do whatever I could to help our country do the right thing. I felt I was doing this by protesting the war and refusing to directly participate in the war effort.

When I got home after returning from Canada, my parents were trying most anything to convince me not to emigrate to Canada. We were in agreement with regards to the jail option, both against. They called the pastor of their church for help. Turned out he agreed with my views and supported me. It was not the support they were hoping for. He hooked me up with his assistant, he was closer to my age, and offered to help me file Conscientious Objector papers. Looking at the history of my particular draft board and my lack of membership in any formal organizations to support my views this was looking like an extreme long shot, more like “no shot”. I decided not to file because if I did end up going in, having that on my record would likely be used against me. I knew my draft board would come calling soon and I was stuck for the time being. I needed to get some money to finance my escape. I had to find a job quick with the hope to earn enough money to emigrate before Uncle Sam came calling.

This post follows “Standing in Line” and will be followed by “Working on the Stock Market” - scheduled to be published June 26^th