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"HK" wrote in message
...
wrote:
On Aug 15, 8:02 pm, "JimH" ask wrote:
except on the
drive back from Windsor into Michigan where he was profiled because of
his
dreadlocks/age and thoroughly searched.



Ut oh. Guess I better make sure I wear clean BVD's :O



I have a funny story about the Detroit-Windsor crossing.

During our national debacle against Vietnam, I was working for a federal
agency, and at the time in question, I was assigned to a project underway
in the Detroit area.

One of my best high school chums, Jimmy M., was drafted right after he was
graduated from the University of Connecticut. Though in good health, he
was not really an appropriate specimen for cannon fodder. Jimmy was a
first generation American. His grandfather was involved in the Tan war
against the Brits, and after the Irish parliament failed, the entire
family, including Jimmy's father emigrated here. To say this was an
anti-establistment family would be a gross understatement.

Anyway, Jimmy tried to become a C.O., and to work as a medic or something
similar, but the idiots in the military decided he should be a rifleman.
He deserted during basic training.

Jimmy emigrated to Canada, where he became a citizen, and a good one at
that, with a nice-sized construction business. At the time of this
incident, he was living in Windsor and we used to meet to toss back a few
once or twice a month, but always on the Canadian side.

The funny part: somehow the feds, I think it was the FBI, found out who
my friend was and two agents came to see me at my office. I was working
out of the Penobscot Building, and our offices faced the Detroit River and
therefore Windsor.

So, the suits asked me if I knew where Jimmy was. "Sure," I said, "he's
over there." I was pointing to Canada. We talked for a while and I
"admitted" that I met Jimmy every so often over there. These agents wanted
me to get Jimmy back over to Detroit on a ruse, so they could arrest him.

I remember bursting out in laughter and telling the feds to get the hell
out of my office. Right...I was going to drop a dime on a lifelong friend.



Desertion is (was) a hell of a lot more serious than refusing to be drafted.

Eisboch




 
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