Jim Lampley’s story of publicly ripping up his draft card that night back in ‘68 beats my pathetic story of Selective Service resistance by about a quart and a half of testosterone. Not only because he clearly doesn’t have my fear of large crowds but mostly because of the plain, unavoidable fact that he resisted and I didn’t.
Now in my defense, Jim himself points out that he was staring down the barrel of the Tet Offensive, while I,...
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