September 14th-A Day of Meaning
I write part of this in jest, of course, until the end. It’s important to me because I was born on this date. The thing is, when I was young and went to sporting events, I was always impressed by how people would stand and give me a standing ovation. For a young kid, that’s really something big. But it turns out there is more to the story.
Francis Scott Key penned the Star-Spangled Banner on this date, so maybe, just maybe, the people weren’t standing to honor my birthday at all.
In September 1940, and this is a little trivia, Congress passed the Selective Training and Service Act, providing for the first peacetime draft in U.S. history. It would become important later.
The first date picked in the draft lottery in 1969 was September 14. I was numero uno. What an honor to have my birthday recognized by the federal government. Except I wasn’t eligible because I was still in high school. The following year, I was number 247 but, again, not eligible. With the numbers going back and forth from low to high and being eligible the following year, I anticipated a low number. Nope. In my year of being eligible, I was number 253.
It was guessed that the anticipated draft would be limited to the first 40-50 numbers. There was no way I’d be drafted. I remember watching that day on television as the numbers were drawn with a group of friends. I did have a close friend born on September 10, drawing 46. He went to the Army.
Another thing happened in 1994. Major League players went on strike, which ended the season and the World Series. My standing O was out the window for the remainder of the baseball season.
Incidentally, it’s important in another, more profound way: my dad, Cpl. Edward Thompson, U.S. Army Air Force, was stationed in Europe. The war ended there on May 8, 1945, and many of the soldiers were sent back to the States. The war in the Pacific raged on, and there was a thought an invasion of Japan would be imminent, with high casualties.
He was left there to possibly be transferred to the Pacific if an invasion was necessary. This is all speculation on my part, but my rationale is easy enough. A corporal during WWII was considered a non-commissioned officer. My dad was also a surgical technician and had an ambulance license.
I just found out about this a few days ago. To order a plaque for the back of his gravestone, a promise I made 21 years ago at his request but neglected, I was looking at his DD-214 discharge papers and decided to search for some answers. My conclusion is if casualties would be high, Cpl. Thompson would be needed.
My dad must have seen some bad stuff; I don’t really know because he never talked about it. But a couple of big bombs in August made the invasion unnecessary. The official surrender was September 2, 1945, my mom’s birthday.
On September 14, my dad returned to the States to be discharged. Seven years later, on the exact same date, I was born.