Connected Bloodlines

Vietnam and Conscientious Objection to the War

"And it's one, two, three,
What are we fighting for?
Don't ask me I don't give a damn,
Next stop is Vietnam;
And it's five, six, seven,
Open up the pearly gates,
Well there ain't no time to wonder why,
Whoopee! We're all gonna die.


"I Feel Like I'm Fixin' to Die Rag"
By Country Joe and the Fish

The Vietnam War was the first armed conflict to appear on nightly news broadcasts in homes around the country. For many of us, the war became the focal point for all that was wrong with the United States. We dug into the depths of our collective soul to stop that bloody war. We protested, shouted, demonstrated, picketed, marched through high schools, and shut down highways. With the invasion of Cambodia and the Kent State massacres, we closed campuses across the United States and turned to teach-ins to increase awareness of the war and its effects on the nation. Our collective actions were defendable and justifiable; participating in them seemed the only outlet available to us to halt the country's disastrous involvement in a conflict in a jungle on the other side of the globe that had absolutely no connection whatsoever with our welfare, security, or happiness.

Like tens of thousands of other men across the country, I struggled to determine what I was going to do at a personal level, given that I abhorred violence and detested armed conflicts. I was scared shitless by the images that flashed across the television sets−bodies bloodied and broken, children crying, napalm frying to a crisp everyone and everything in its path; and the jungle overlaying−with its hot, dank vegetation−the pain and misery that lurked below. There was no way I would participate in that war. I looked to draft evasion as my personal mantra of resistance.

As one of many young, college-age, politically active, left-wing protestors, I firmly believed that the nation's Selective Service System was one of the most powerful symbols of oppression. Its national, state, and local boards enforced and executed legislation that proscribed the draft process. To engage with the Selective Service System in any fashion meant that I acknowledged and accepted the legitimacy of this entity and its function. By extension, cooperation with the Selective Service system implied to me that I accepted and supported the military agenda of the U.S. To take any action other than disengagement from and avoidance of the Selective Service System would mean that I had been co-opted by a government that in no way represented my political and social beliefs.

In electing to have no involvement with the Selective Service System, my alternatives were limited. I could flee to Canada, remain in the States and refuse induction, or I could go "underground" within the U.S. In the late '60s and early '70s, the implications associated with these three options were dire. If I went to Canada, I would most likely never be able to return to the U.S. If I refused induction, I would be charged, arrested, convicted, and jailed. If I went underground, I would be forced to lead a shadowy existence continually threatened by discovery. After lengthy, confusing, and painfully exhausting evaluations of my options, I elected to keep my hands and mind clean, refuse induction, be found guilty in a hostile courtroom, and be jailed for at least 24 months.

As I contemplated prison, I was deeply moved by one man's first-person account of his refusal to accept induction and his subsequent imprisonment as a result of that refusal. Titled "I Refuse," this book was written by Kenneth J. Osborne. (Little did I know that three years later, after my draft struggle ended, I would meet Ken during my graduate school years at the University of Washington and briefly date him.)

I evaluated my options during my undergraduate years at Gustavus Adolphus College in St. Peter, Minnesota, where I studied from fall 1967 to winter 1970. Friends, faculty, and administrators played influential and helpful advisory roles for me. I also began reading a variety of resource materials prepared by the various anti-war, anti-draft groups at work throughout the country.

The politically active long-haired radical I had become was leap-years away from the person who grew up in a conservative area of the country. Until college, my life played out in Sioux Falls, South Dakota. My immediate family was working, blue-collar−a family that never discussed politics or current events. My persona didn't fully emerge and blossom until college. Up until that time, I was the good son, following all rules and laws applicable to me. I was always the teacher's pet. I attended church and served as president of the Luther League in high school.

I never turned to my family for advice. The draft was never mentioned when I was home visiting family during fall semester of my senior year in college. I recall having only one conversation with my mother in the living room of my grandparent's home in Sioux Falls, where my parents were living temporarily while my grandparents were traveling. I asked her if she could handle having her oldest child in prison. Fighting back tears, the only thing she said was that she worried that I didn't have the faintest idea of what prison would be like. I told her that my choices were severely limited: prison or emigration. If I emigrated, I wouldn't likely be able to return to the States for a very, very long time, if at all. She didn't like either option. That was the full extent of our conversation.

My father never said anything directly to me about my fight nor did I talk with him about my plans. We were not at all close; he felt that my leftist views and participation in the protests were a reflection of the fact that the majority of the students at Gustavus were rich kids from Minneapolis who didn't value their education and so had ample time to "play" at being war protestors. He pontificated that that was the reason why you didn't see any protest actions at Northern State College in Aberdeen, South Dakota, where my sister attended college. According to my father, students at Northern had to work hard to be able to even attend college so they weren't going to fritter away their educational opportunity by doing stupid things like demonstrating. He apparently did mention to my mother one time that I had to have been serious about my fight, or I wouldn't have spent as much time and energy on this issue. In a letter of support that my uncle wrote for me as part of my eventual submission of a conscientious objector claim, my uncle referred to a letter that I had written to my parents while I was a college junior, informing them of my anti-war beliefs, but I can't recall ever writing to them and have no copy of such a letter in my files.

After months of mental anguish, one of my closest advisors and friends at the time encouraged me to seek conscientious objector classification. He strongly felt that if I ended up going to prison, I would accomplish absolutely nothing. If I got my CO status, my friend argued that I could then avoid jail and contribute positively in some fashion to the kind of world in which I so fervently wanted to live. I respected this individual immensely and listened carefully to his advice. His arguments were persuasive and logical. In late 1970, my period of indecision ended and I elected to work within the system and apply for conscientious objector status.

The criteria upon which one could base a claim of conscientious objection changed significantly by court rulings issued in 1967 and in 1970. Prior to 1967, conscientious objection status was limited only to those individuals who were opposed to all wars, in part based on a belief in a "Supreme Being." Under this restrictive definition, most CO classifications were given to those men from organized religions whose fundamental beliefs supported anti-violence, such as the Mennonites, Quakers, and the Brethren.

In 1967, key criteria for CO classifications were changed, now requiring that such classifications could be based upon "religious training and belief" instead of a required belief in a "Supreme Being." This change occurred with the passage of the Military Selective Service Act of 1967, upheld by the Supreme Court. In 1970, a Supreme Court ruling expanded the criteria even further, by ruling that a claim for CO classification could be based on a deeply held conviction that participation in the military violated one's religious or moral beliefs. These changes were dramatic, but local boards across the country routinely sidestepped the 1970 ruling by attempting to demonstrate that an alleged conscientious objector couldn't have really been one since his convictions were not deeply held and only seemed to emerge when the student deferments expired. My local board was no different.

Two classifications applied to COs: a) 1-A-O, where a CO would still wear a uniform and serve in the Armed Forces but would never carry a gun. Most individuals classified as 1-A-O served in medical units for their two years of service; b) 1-O, where a CO served his nation in some capacity as a civilian for two years, usually with some type of organization or association devoted to "public improvement or charity."

The infamous lottery drawing held December 1, 1969, determined the order in which men born from 1944 through 1950 were called to report for induction into the military. The anxiety that this event triggered for the war protestors and draft evaders was intense. The highest lottery number called for this group was 195; all men assigned that lottery number or any lower number, and who were classified 1-A or 1-A-O were called for possible induction. My lottery number was "150."

As the war dragged on and as the legal definition of conscientious objection broadened, the number of COs increased dramatically, from 18,000 in 1965 to 61,000 in 1971. Prosecutions involving draft evasion also increased during this same period. Between 1965 and 1975, the federal government indicted approximately 22,500 individuals leading to over 8,000 convictions and over 4,000 imprisonments. During the height of the prosecutions, draft cases accounted for a tenth of all cases in the federal courts. During the war, the average prison sentence for convicted evaders increased as well, from 21 months in 1965 to 37 months in 1968, then dropping to 29 months in 1971.

The coming months found me dancing a slow tango to hell with my local Selective Service System. The dance started much earlier than my political education about the draft. In March 1969, I was completely naive about issues with the Selective Service Board. Reflecting my South Dakota background which emphasized responsibility and trustworthiness, I thought that my local board would treat me honestly and fairly. I wrote to them for information re. conscientious objection. Then, still doubting my earlier decision to work within the system, I returned the form a few days later, uncompleted, thinking that perhaps the local board maintained a record of the individuals to whom they had sent the form and I wanted to make sure that they had accurate records regarding my case. Luckily for me, after self-education and much advice from various anti-war and anti-draft counseling services, I realized that the local, state, and national Selective Service System boards were not my friends and their goals were antithetical to my views and beliefs. I also realized that I couldn't rely on my local board to follow any Selective Service rules fairly.

I completed my senior year of college in December 1970. On December 13, 1970, I wrote to my local board and again requested Form 150. I completed my senior year of college at the end of December 1970. On Christmas Day 1970, I mailed my completed Form 150 and my supporting documentation to my local board, requesting that I be classified as a 1-O conscientious objector.

To apply for conscientious objector status, one had to fill out Form 150. This form attempted to gather sufficient background and personal information on an individual so that a local board could make a classification decision based solely on the submitted paperwork. The form required individuals to answer questions about their reasons for requesting a conscientious objector classification−their beliefs, how these beliefs were formed, and other types of "proof" that the individual was sincere in his pursuit of a conscientious objector classification by demonstrating that his anti-war beliefs had been formed and shaped since childhood. This last litmus test was especially astounding.

At the time that I finally decided to seek conscientious objector status, I also decided that I would still refuse induction. Such refusal would then lead to a court trial, where I anticipated that I would be found guilty and would then be assigned to do two years of community service as my sentence. In preparation for such a trial, I began to look for suitable work that I could present to the judge for consideration as my community service. I sent out 19 letters to various community service organizations throughout the U.S. that might be inclined to provide me employment. Only one of these institutions replied to me with a positive offer: The Wartburg Home, a Lutheran orphanage in Mt. Vernon, New York, was very willing to provide me employment if I received my CO classification. If I joined the staff at The Wartburg Home, I would be coordinating the development of a recreation program for the children and also be trained as a childcare worker at the orphanage.

On February 10, 1971, I requested that my II-S classification be removed, since I was no longer a student, and again requested that I be classified as I-O. A crucial Selective Service rule was that draft boards could not process CO applications from individuals with student (II-S) deferments. This meant that many young men voluntarily gave up their student deferments in order to force the draft board to consider their CO applications. The risk was enormous: if their CO applications were turned down, they would be classified 1-A and they could be drafted. Even though I had submitted my Form 150 requesting classification as a conscientious objector, my II-S classification was still in play so I had to request that my student deferment cease. By requesting that my educational deferment be removed, I then forced the local board to review my file, my Form 150 request, and my initial letters of support.

My local draft board, based solely on the contents of my file, classified me as 1-A on February 23, 1971, meaning that I was eligible for active duty. On March 10, 1971, I appealed this classification to the local board, submitted an additional letter of support, and was granted an in-person hearing, called a "personal appearance" in Selective Service jargon, on March 23.

The summary of my personal appearance aptly illustrates the challenges posed by many local boards. Fortunately, I had taken shorthand in high school. That skill enabled me to take almost verbatim notes in college and at any meeting that I attended. So, as my hearing was conducted, I furiously took comprehensive notes of the conversation. My hearing lasted 22 minutes. While I had been introduced to the board members by name, in my summary I simply referred to the board members by letter, such as "Mr. X" or "Mr. Y." Mr. Y clearly played the role of "bad cop." The handwriting was on the wall for me, when after mentioning that I had served on a student committee that visited local high schools to discuss the atrocities of war, Mr. Y asked if I also preached the atrocities of peace. He then followed this statement with a segment on U.S. history and the need of the colonists to build an army to attack the British and the French when the Americans fought for their freedom. He told me in no uncertain terms that he felt that if a society preached peace and love and lived a nonviolent life, they would be annihilated by other militaristic societies. He was also puzzled about everyone continually talking about those Eastern religions and Confuscius and having a difficult time imagining how the Eastern country of China could be called peaceful and loving. The Shinto religion was another example that Mr. Y discussed, stating that it was such a peaceful, nonviolent religion, but then making comments about the activities conducted by Japan in World War II with her Shinto religion. Mr. Y's best statement was reserved for his final wrap-up. He commented that God was the first one to call an army when he commanded the Israelites to take up arms, concluding by saying that the only possibility for an Israelite not to serve in the Army was if they were recently married. I was doomed.

After that hearing, the local board again classed me as 1-A on March 23. On April 19, I appealed the local board's classification to the state appeal board and also sent another letter of support to be added to my file.

As my appeal process worked its way through the local, state and national boards, I accepted the position at the Wartburg Home in advance of any successful reclassification to CO status. I loaded all of my belongings in my new Toyota Corolla coupe, and drove from Sioux Falls to Mt. Vernon, New York. My departure from Sioux Falls was extraordinarily sad; my mother never even came out of the house to see me off. She remained seated at the dining room table, sobbing with pain and worry about what was going to happen to me. I cried as well, once I was out of sight of my father and my two younger sisters standing in the driveway. I too shared my mother's fears about my future. After 15 minutes, I pulled it together and made my way east.

Given my move to Mt. Vernon, the South Dakota state board transferred my appeal to the New York state appeal board for further action. The New York state appeal board upheld my classification of 1-A based solely on a review of items in my file and I received notification of this classification on July 12.

At the time of my move, it was still possible for me to appear before a local board in Mt. Vernon, New York, if I were called to duty by the local board in Sioux Falls. I could refuse induction in Mt. Vernon, rather than having to appear before my local board in Sioux Falls. Unfortunately, Selective Service changes were implemented even before I had completely settled into my new position at the orphanage. Inductees no longer were permitted to appear at any local board across the country to refuse induction. Instead, the Selective Service System now required inductees to appear at the issuing local board, which, in my case, was Sioux Falls, South Dakota, in order to refuse induction. Failure to report for induction was a much more serious crime than reporting for induction and then refusing the induction notice. So, three weeks after arriving in Mt. Vernon, I loaded up all of my personal belongings into my Toyota Corolla, mailed back the six boxes of books that had finally arrived in Mt. Vernon, and returned to South Dakota. I told the staff at Wartburg that I didn't want to start work, become bonded with the kids, and then have to pull up stakes and return to South Dakota. I found work in Sioux Falls as I waited to see what would happen next.

If one was going to seek deferment of any type from the Selective Service System, documenting all communication and interaction with the Selective Service System was an important, time-consuming process. All of the various anti-war, anti-draft manuals and advisory programs provided clear rules that were to be followed during these interactions:

1. Whenever sending anything to the Selective Service, mail it Certified Mail and pay for Return Receipt Requested notification.
2. Keep two copies of everything that you send to the Selective Service. On one copy, staple the receipt for the Certified Mail and the acknowledgement receipt from the Return Receipt Requested form.
3. Always attempt to have in your home file the same documentation that your Local Board had in their file. However, you were always going to be one document short, since after every visit, local Selective Service secretaries would write up a brief report, indicating that such and such person was in the office requesting to look at his file, and would file this report in your local board file. Any telephone call or written contact with the Selective Service was also documented in written form and placed in your file. So, I would periodically go down to the Selective Service local board, request to see my file, and make sure that I was up to date with its contents. (On one of my visits while I was in college, I discovered that my mother had called the local board to advise them of a move that I had made. Although her actions were completely innocent, I had to issue strict guidelines to her that she was never to contact the local board again.)
4. Make sure that you were always up-to-date with any legislation or Selective Service guidelines affecting your situation.
5. Whenever requesting any type of additional review or appeal, always add more original documentation to your file, thereby requiring the appropriate board to reexamine your file based on the fact that new contents had been added.

As a result of additional appeals that I filed, I was informed in August 1971 that my appealed classification had been submitted to the Presidential Appeal Board. If this appeal failed, I had no other alternatives available other than to simply refuse induction and see where that action would take me. I was reclassified 1-O by the Selective Service Presidential Appeal Board, in November 1971. Ironically, after all the work I had done with the Selective Service System to support my request, the initial notification of my reclassification to 1-O never reached me, given that I was in the process of moving from one location to another. I only found out about my success after waiting for a number of months and then calling the local board on January 12, 1972 to ask about the status of my presidential appeal. I was told that I had been reclassified to 1-O status. I doubt that the local board secretary shared any of the intense jubilation that I felt upon hearing those words. Another irony with my case was that even though I had been classified as fit for duty while my appeal fight was going on, I was never inducted, so I never had to fall back on my 1-O status and perform some type of community service. I began graduate school at the University of Washington in February 1972.

Throughout this process, there were a number of organizations that provided me with extraordinary support and counsel. There was in existence a well-structured, national-level anti-war, anti-draft collective of different groups who provided assistance to young men facing the draft. These various groups issued guidelines, how-to manuals, informational brochures, and books. They also offered in-person counseling at various locations throughout the country. I met with American Friends Service Committee counselors several times at Fordham University during my three weeks in Mt. Vernon.

Throughout those many months of interaction with the Selective Service System, I faithfully followed the guidance provided to me about maintaining accurate files at home. As my case continued to unfold and as I began to accumulate increasingly more documentation, green Return Receipt Requested slips and receipts for Certified Mail, I filed every item sent or received in a large heavy file that was closed by tying two cloth strings together. I kept that file with me through every move I made as I began my working career. The file traveled with me to Seattle, and then on to Boston, Los Angeles, Washington D.C., Connecticut, San Diego, San Francisco, Palm Springs, Santa Barbara, Las Vegas, and Irvine. I occasionally would pull it out, peruse the documents, and think about throwing everything away. However, I was unable to discard these pieces of physical evidence gathered during such a critical time in my life. So I simply retied the file and stashed it in a box.

In early 2010, I finally sorted through all the letters, collated them, scanned them, and made them available for others to see. Among all the copies of all the correspondence that had been produced during that timeframe, I had also saved four small handbooks that had been so critically important to me during those troubled times. I've listed them below and have provided a few descriptive comments about each of them, since their existence also bears witness to those challenging years when fighting the draft became a life struggle for so many of us.

1) Handbook for Conscientious Objectors, Eleventh Edition, September 1970, published by CCCO, An Agency for Military and Draft Counseling. Edited by Arlo Tatum.

As stated on their website,

"The Central Committee for Conscientious Objectors (CCCO) supports conscientious objectors and promotes individual and collective resistance to war and preparations for war. We seek to provide full and accurate information about military life and war to individuals affected by military service, conscription, and recruitment. Since our founding in 1948, CCCO's counselor network has helped tens of thousands of people serving in the military or facing conscription."

CCCO was launched by a coalition of peace groups: the National Service Board for Religious Objectors, the American Friends Service Committee, the Brethren Service Commission, the Friends Committee on National Legislation, the War Resisters League, and the Fellowship of Reconciliation.

The Handbook was initially printed in 1952. It has been continuously revised and reedited, so that it is as up to date as possible. My eleventh edition's "Suggested Rules" section concludes with a section entitled "Warning" that reads as follows:

"In the current rather emotional atmosphere the frequency of procedural errors on the part of local draft boards has increased noticeably. In reading this Handbook please bear this in mind. If the local board does not respond as you think it should, contact your nearest draft counselor or CCCO at once for advice on remedial action. In the best of circumstances local boards act very differently−just as registrants do. You cannot prevent their mistakes, but only your own. You can correct their mistakes, but cannot always erase your own. Several men are in prison right now because of their own mistakes."

2) Manual for Draft-Age Immigrants to Canada, Fifth Edition, Summer 1970, published by the Toronto Anti-Draft Programme.

Reflective of the need to provide assistance to those individuals who were contemplating migration to Canada, this manual was generated as a product of a grass-roots effort by the Toronto Anti-Draft Programme. Tucked into my copy of the manual was a folded insert stating that the authors were in the process of rewriting the manual given the number of changes that had occurred within Canada that applied to American draft-age immigrants. The insert closed with the following:

"We request that you consider the following before you come to Canada:

1. Your economic and career opportunities will most certainly be greatly reduced.
2. You will be paying more for almost everything and earning less.
3. Selective service is undergoing a transition at the present time as was indicated by the recent attempt in the Senate to pass a law for a volunteer army. Even though that was defeated it does indicate that people in Washington are rethinking the situation and changes in the draft law are quite possible within the next year or so.
4. Because our economy is over 65% American owned our way of life is, to a large extent, controlled by a policy set in Washington. It is therefore a myth that you have greater freedom here.
5. It is highly unlikely that Amnesty will be givin [sic] any American resister. If you come to Canada you come to stay.

If you do, however, decide to come and try your luck despite all these factors we strongly suggest settling somewhere other than the Toronto area. The disadvantages might be slightly less in areas less popular."

Originally written by Mark Satin in 1967, later editions were updated and edited by others and the name "Mark Satin" was erased forever, as a result of internal dissent within TADP. Satin describes his background that led to the publishing of the manual:

"In 1967, as lead draft counselor for the Toronto Anti-Draft Programme (TADP), I conceived and wrote (and edited guest chapters for) a book that became an immediate "underground bestseller": Manual for Draft Age Immigrants to Canada (Toronto, Jan. 1968; 2nd ed., House of Anansi Press, March 1968; four subsequent editions, 1968-71). I was 21 years old, had been "bred in at least modest comfort" in Moorhead MN and Wichita Falls TX, and was wanted in the U.S. for draft evasion. "I wasn't thrilled about becoming a draft dodger. I'd planned on doing something really constructive with my life in the country I loved, the USA: I'd planned on becoming an American historian... But it was inconceivable to me−I mean, not even an option−that I would answer my country's call to go off and try to kill, maim, and intimidate Vietnamese for no good reason (except to maintain one's own careerist "viability," as the young Bill Clinton put it). "Even in 1965-66, it was obvious to anyone who made some sincere effort to look into the situation that the Vietnam war was flagrantly unjust and not in America's true interests, and it was also obvious what the stand-up (i.e., non-Clintonesque) alternatives were: jail or Canada. I chose Canada because I thought I could do more good working against the war machine from Toronto than I could rotting in the federal penitentiary in Texarkana. And work against the war machine is exactly what I did!"

3) Speak Truth to Power, a Quaker search for an alternative to violence, prepared for the American Friends Service Committee, Seventh Printing, July 1967.

This publication originally was written and distributed in 1955, as the fourth in a series of publications issued by the American Friends Service Committee that focused on possible ways to ease tension and move toward international peace.

As described in Wikipedia:

"The American Friends Service Committee (AFSC) is a Religious Society of Friends (Quaker) affiliated organization which provides humanitarian relief and works for social justice, peace and reconciliation, human rights, and abolition of the death penalty. The group was founded in 1917 as a combined effort by American members of the Religious Society of Friends and assisted civilian victims of war. Because Quakers traditionally oppose violence in all of its forms and therefore refuse to serve in the military, the AFSC's original mission was to provide conscientious objectors (COs) to war with a constructive alternative to military service. In 1947 AFSC received the Nobel Peace Prize along with the British Friends Service Council, now called Quaker Peace and Social Witness, on behalf of all Quakers worldwide."

4) Face to Face with your Draft Board, by Allan Blackman, a World Without War Council Publication, 2nd edition, revised, July 1970.

As stated in its introduction,

"This book provides specific help needed by men facing a personal appearance before their draft board. It was written primarily to help men who want to obtain a conscientious objector classification but it will also be of use to those seeking some other particular classification from the Selective Service System and to draft counselors advising such men... The content and messages contained in this book reflect World Without War Council's commitment to the "dignity of individual human beings, to the principles of law, to nonviolent conflict resolution, and to democratic values."

My draft files have now been scanned, the originals have been shredded, and my tired and battered folder with its cloth strings has been discarded. I don't know who might even read my documents, nor do I know if they have any utility at all, but they represented for me such an extraordinary part of my life that I simply couldn't part with them.

The four folios that appear below contain the various documents related to my draft fight:

Folio 1: Initial Filing of Conscientious Objector Claim

• Conscientious Objectors: Selective Service Brochure, published 1970 (Folio 1, Items 1-6)
• Sample copy of Form 150, published 1968 (Folio 1, Items 7-10)
• Lowell to Local Board Requesting Form 150, 13 Dec 1970 (Folio 1, Item 11)
• Lowell to Local Board Submitting Form 150, 25 Dec 1970 ( Folio 1, Item 12)
• Lowell Answers to Form 150, 25 Dec 1970 (Folio 1, Items 13-16)

Folio 2: Personal Appearance and Appeal of Local Board's First Classification of 1-A Status

• Lowell to Local Board Requesting Personal Appearance, 9 Mar 1971 (Folio 2, Item 1)
• Local Board to Lowell Stating Meeting Date and Time, 15 Mar 1971 (Folio 2, Item 2)
• Letter to Local Board to Permit Witness to Appear in Front of Board, 23 Mar 1971 (Folio 2, Item 3)
• Lowell Summary Statement Read to Board, 23 Mar 1971 (Folio 2, Items 4-5)
• Supplementary Written Statement by Lowell Submitted to Board, 17 Feb 1971 (Folio 2, Item 6)
• Wartburg Home Letter re. Position at Orphanage, 11 Jan 1971 (Folio 2, Item 7)
• Wartburg Home Letter re. Description of Role, 4 Feb 1971 (Folio 2, Item 8)
• Wartburg Home Letter re. Salary Information, 9 Mar 1971 (Folio 2, Item 9)
• American Lutheran Church Policy Statement re. Conscientious Objection, 23 Mar 1971 (Folio 2, Item 10)
• Lowell Detailed Account of Personal Appearance at Local Board, 23 Mar 1971 (Folio 2, Items 11-15)
• Witness Letter Affirming that Witness Was Not Allowed to Appear, 24 Mar 1971 (Folio 2, Item 16)

Folio 3: All Selective Service Board Communications To and From Lowell and All Other Official Letters (Arranged by date)

• Lowell to Local Board Requesting Info on CO Filing, 10 Mar 1969 (Folio 3, Item 1)
• Lowell to Local Board Returning Form 150 the First Time, 13 Mar 1969 (Folio 3, Item 2)
• Lowell Report to Local Board re. Return of Form 150, 3 Apr 1969 (Folio 3, Item 3)
• Local Board to Registrants re. Federal Induction Legislation, Jul 1970 (Folio 3, Item 4)
• Lowell to Local Board Requesting Reclassification from II-S and a Preliminary Interview, 10 Feb 1971 (Folio 3, Item 5)
• Local Board to Lowell Denying Request for Preliminary Interview, 11 Feb 1971 (Folio 3, Item 6)
• Order to Report for Armed Forces Physical Exam, 11 Feb 1971 (Folio 3, Items 7-11)
• Lowell to Local Board Submitting Two More Documents, 17 Feb 1971 (Folio 3, Item 12)
• Selective Service Statement of Lowell's Acceptability for Induction, 15 Mar 1971 (Folio 3, Item 13)
• Notice of Appointment for Lowell Meeting with Government Appeal Agent, 15 Mar 1971 (Folio 3, Item 14)
• Lowell Summary of Meeting with Government Appeal Agent, 17 Mar 1971 (Folio 3, Items 15-16)
• Local Board Refuses to Grant 1-O for Lowell, 23 Mar 1971 (Folio 3, Item 17)
• Pastor Montgomery Letter to Local Board re. Lutheran Views of CO, 2 Apr 1971 (Folio 3, Item 18)
• Lowell to Local Board Appealing 1-A Classification, 14 Apr 1971 (Folio 3, Item 19)
• Lowell to State Appeal Board, 14 Apr 1971 (Folio 3, Items 20-21)
• Local Board Review of Lowell File, 27 Apr 1971 (Folio 3, Item 22)
• Local Board to State Board re. State Appeal, 27 Apr 1971 (Folio 3, Item 23)
• Local Board's Completion of State Appeal Check List, 27 Apr 1971 (Folio 3, Item 24)
• New York State Selective Service to Appeal Board, Southern District New York, 10 May 1971 (Folio 3, Item 25)
• Local Board Phone Call to Lowell re. State Appeal, 11 May 1971 (Folio 3, Item 26)
• Local Board Summary of all Actions re. Lowell, 7 Jun 1971 (Folio 3, Item 27)
• State Board to Local Board re. Results of Appeal, 30 Jun 1971 (Folio 3, Item 28)
• ACLU to Lowell re. Lawyer, 23 Jul 1971 (Folio 3, Item 29)
• Pastor Montgomery Letter to Lowell re. Lawyer, 6 Aug 1971 (Folio 3, Item 30)
• Lowell Letter Sent to Politicians Appealing for Assistance: Representative James Abourezk, Representative Frank Denholm, Senator George McGovern, and Senator Karl Mundt, 8 Aug 1971 (Folio 3, Items 31-32)
• Abourezk to Lowell re. Appeal, 9 Sep 1971 (Folio 3, Item 33)
• Mundt's Office to Lowell, 13 Aug 1971 (Folio 3, Item 34)
• McGovern to Lowell re. Appeal, 13 Aug 1971 (Folio 3, Item 35)
• National Selective Service to Lowell re. Appeal, 16 Aug 1971 (Folio 3, Item 36)
• Local Board to Lowell Informing of Presidential Appeal, 17 Aug 1971 (Folio 3, Item 37)
• National Headquarters, Selective Service, to McGovern re. Lowell Appeal, 19 Aug 1971 (Folio 3, Item 38)
• Deputy State Director, Selective Service, to Lowell re. Mundt Follow-up 19 Aug 1971 (Folio 3, Item 39)
• Denholm to Director of Selective Service Tarr, 23 Aug 1971 (Folio 3, Item 40)
• McGovern to Lowell with Interim Reply, 26 Aug 1971, Folio 3, Item 41)
• McGovern to Lowell with Response from National Selective Service to McGovern, 30 Aug 1971 (Folio 3, Item 42)
• National Headquarters, Selective Service, to McGovern re. Lowell Appeal, 27 Aug 1971 (Folio 3, Item 43)
• Denholm to Lowell with Response from National Selective Service to Denholm, 8 Sep 1971 (Folio 3, Item 44)
• National Headquarters, Selective Service, to Denholm re. Lowell Appeal, 31 Aug 1971 (Folio 3, Item 45)
• Local Board to Abourezk re. Appeal, 28 Sep 1971 (Folio 3, Item 46)

Folio 4: Letters of Support Attesting to Lowell's Sincerity

• Mildred Hofland Letter (Family Friend, Sioux Falls), [no date] (Folio 4, Item 1)
• Beverly Johnk Letter (Asst. Dean of Student Affairs, Gustavus), 9 Dec 1970 (Folio 4, Item 2)
• Alla Kaukis Letter (Professor, Gustavus), 15 Mar 1971 (Folio 4, Item 3)
• Darius Larsen Letter (Friend, Gustavus), 28 Nov 1970 (Folio 4, Items 4-5)
• Lynn Loomis Letter (Family Friend, Sioux Falls), 20 Nov 1970 (Folio 4, Item 6)
• Alice Lowell Letter (Mother, Sioux Falls), 15 Feb 1971 (Folio 4, Item 7)
• John Lowell Letter (Uncle, Montana), [no date] (Folio 4, Item 8)
• Roger Lowell Letter (Uncle, Montana), 25 Nov 1970 (Folio 4, Items 9-10)
• Herb & Dorothy Mikkelson Letter (Church Friends, Nebraska), 14 Nov 1970 (Folio 4, Item 11)
• Jane Norman Letter (Friend, Gustavus), 20 Nov 1970 (Folio 4, Item 12)
• Gust Olson Letter (Friend, Gustavus), 10 Dec 1970 (Folio 4, Items 13-14)
• Justin Simpson Letter (Professor, Gustavus), 4 Dec 1970 (Folio 4, Item 15)
• Mrs. Wallace Steele Letter (Friend, Sioux Falls), 14 Nov 1970 (Folio 4, Item 16)
• Greta Swenson Letter (Friend, Gustavus), [no date] (Folio 4, Item 17)