I was not selected by the selective service and didn’t need to move to Canada to avoid Vietnam. I was 19 and hitchhiked to a music festival in Toronto. Returning to the USA, crusty from campground dust, we ragged long hairs were being thoroughly searched by border guards. Knapsacks were emptied and sleeping bags rolled open. I suddenly remembered being handed a bag of powder and tucking it into my pillow/poncho bag. A prickly sweat needlepointed my forehead. I felt certain I was about to become a citizen of Canada. One bag was overlooked. Canada wasn’t going to get me.
Michael Jacobi is a retired film and sound editor and married to a wonderful writer named Donna Moriarty.