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{Politics.811.10}: {texlib} Wed, 17 Sep 2008 12:41:38 EDT (15 lines)
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I remember riding with a good high school friend on the bus to
Indianapolis to our draft physical. I remember being shocked when we
had to take off our clothes to see him standing there in a full
body-brace.  He handed an Army doctor a letter from his family doctor
(also his dad's golfing partner) describing his "back injury" due to
lifting concrete blocks.  His father was a wealthy contractor who
built service stations for major oil companies across the Midwest.  My
friend got his pilot's license at age 16 as his father owned a Cessna.
 I had never known him to actually "work" and when I returned home
over Thanksgiving vacation, he was "well" enough to play flag football
with the rest of us.

He married a girl whose father was a funeral home owner and he
inherited that business.  A few years later he helped to perform
funerals for young men from our community who were killed in Vietnam.

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