CHAPTER 14

Fred II


The 1963 Chevrolet Bel Air was a reasonably reliable car.  Scot acquired it so he could drive to the steel mill where he had found a job thanks to his college shutting down early.  The car would cost the wages of the entire summer job at the Steel Mill.  It was a zero sum summer of work, but he had gained the long term advantage of mobility.  He was driving into the city to pick up Susan for a dinner date.
It was the middle of May, 1970.  All the state schools in Ohio and many across the nation, had shut down due to massive, uncontrollable riots raging on the campuses.  The Rhodes/Reagan/(Nixon?) plan to discourage dissent with a bloodbath had backfired.  The opposite had happened.  Riots broke out even in historically peaceful colleges and universities.
Kent State University had not been on the leading edge of protest schools.  Columbia University in New York City, the University of Wisconsin at Madison and Berkeley in San Francisco were some that had been more active in the anti-war movement.  However, there had been a small but determined group at Kent State which was relentless in its desire to fight the establishment any way it could.  Someone, possibly from that group, decided to burn down the ROTC building as a symbol of their opposition to the war.  That couldn’t be a crime in comparison to the slaughter of hundreds of thousands of innocent people the government was perpetrating in Southeast Asia.
It was not as easy to burn down the ROTC building as most would think.  The would-be arsonists consisted primarily of liberal arts students.  Some chemistry or physics majors might have made the task possible.  But science majors were less inclined to condemn the war.  They fell for the domino theory.   Kevin claimed that students should be required to pass a test on naïveté.  To graduate, students must pass the test.
A year before the ROTC building met its demise, Scot had passed the building on his way home from the library late one evening when he heard excited, hushed whispering behind the building.  At first, he concluded it was some drunken students fooling around, disoriented or trying to smoke something illegal.  Then he noticed some primitive torches pressed against the wooden foundation.  The torch emitted a lot of sparks, but the building refused to ignite.  There had been regular reports of incineration attempts, but in each subsequent morning the ROTC building stood proudly like an old soldier who refuses to stop telling his war stories and die.
When the ROTC building finally burned down on Saturday, May 2nd, 1970, politically aware students, including, most likely, some of the failed would-be arsonists, argued that it had to have been the work of an agent provocateur.  
The student arsonists or potential arsonists could not have imagined their little spark would have had such a huge impact.  At least that old eyesore located at the heart of the campus that Scot and most students passed nearly every day was gone.  That stubborn symbol of world aggression, brutality and gratuitous slaughter now was ashes and nails like so many of its targets, Kevin said with pride as if he could claim some credit for its demise.
After that tragic May 4th Monday, there were a few days of quiet as some students assessed the tragedy and others made plans to avenge the senseless deaths at home that mirrored the more numerous senseless deaths in Southeast Asia.  Organizations such as Students for a Democratic Society (SDS) existed and had a structure in place that could lead an uprising easily and quickly.  And they did.
News about the events behind the catastrophe trickled out.  There had been high level approval to use force.   It came from the governor, the president of the University and the adjutant general of the Ohio National Guard. Whether or not lethal force had been approved from the highest levels remained murky.
A large majority of the people of Ohio approved of the actions of the Ohio National Guard.  Although generally conservative and distrustful of the government, they usually approved of the government’s decisions to take lethal or otherwise brutal action whether it was against strangers in a foreign land, suspected capital criminals at home or anyone who threatened domestic order and security.
The leaders of the guardsmen claimed they felt threatened, so they took preemptive defensive action.  That was good enough for most Ohioans.
Scot’s head was dizzy with confusion.  He looked forward to discussions with Susan and Fred.  Maybe they, as persons outside Kent State, could make sense of the conflict raging in his mind.
He had not sought input from his parents, so he was surprised to hear his father comment:  “If they will do that to their own youth, imagine what they are doing to the Vietnamese.”
Scot was not sure what his father felt about the war prior to that time, but from then forward, he was a vocal opponent of it.  Since the dogs and the outhouse incident, he was excessively guarded about expressing his feelings and opinions when the children were around, including one in college.  Perhaps the war hit too close to home.  He could have lost a son or both there.  It became personal now.  What if his son had survived a bloody war on the other side of the earth only to come home and be gunned down by his own army?  When WW II broke out, he was 32 years old and could have enlisted.  His older brothers enlisted.  His younger brothers were drafted.  He failed to get swept up by the patriotic zeal that possesses most people at times like that.  In fact, his unusual marriage and offspring occurred at a time that might well have been part of a plan to insure he did not serve in the military.  His father never criticized his Son's enlistment, nor did he ever express approval.
His father’s transformation seemed to mirror that of radio personality Paul Harvey.  Harvey was a stern critic of those who did not fully support their nation and go fight for the cause, or criticized the war.  He labeled them cowards.  Then the draft was reinstated using a lottery system.  When young Paul Jr. got a low number nearly guaranteeing he would be drafted, Paul senior suddenly did an about turn and opposed the war.
The tan Chevrolet Bel Air came to a halt in front of the small, unpretentious house, only slightly different from the rows of similar homes on that street.  One change to the landscape, and Scot might not be able to identify the house without looking at the address number.
Scot waited.  Susan had asked him not to sound his horn or ring the doorbell.  Grandma might be asleep, which was most of the time.  Susan did not want her awakened if possible because she had difficulty falling asleep once she woke up.
Scott saw the drapes on the picture window move slightly, then return to their natural position.  A few seconds later, the door opened and Susan emerged.  She turned to lock the door, then began her descent down the steps.  The descent was slow and deliberate as if she were Scarlet Ohara descending the grand staircase of her large southern mansion to greet Rhett Butler or Ashley Wilkes.  Anything that could wiggle, did.  Susan always wore loose skirts, never quite as short as most college girls wore.  Her cheerleading days were over, but her thighs looked as if they got enough exercise.
Susan opened the door and let herself in.  Scot had given up acts of chivalry since the mid sixties when the women’s liberation movement had made women equal to men.  Suddenly they found the ability to open their own doors.  Not all women wanted equality all of the time, but Scot had vowed to treat them all the same all of the time.  Susan said she had no problem with his position, and she would have his job one day.  Since Scot had no real job and his part time job was a  counselor in a men’s dorm, he advised her he didn’t feel threatened.  However, the thought did instill some concern.  If the job didn’t include manual labor, Susan probably would be better at it than Scot.
Susan slid across the bench seat and pressed her entire body up against his.  She began weeping.  She put her arms around him and hugged him tightly.
“When I heard about the shootings, I imagined you lying there in a pool of blood,” she sobbed.  “I know it wasn’t rational.  There are 25,000 students there, they said on the radio, so the odds were that you were not one of the 13 that was shot.  Still, I couldn’t erase the picture from my mind.  I couldn’t study and stayed by the radio for hours.  When I called your dormitory, they said they had to notify the victims’ relatives before they could release any information.  That only exaggerated my fear more.  I called your parents and they said they had not heard from you.  That made it even worse.  I’m so glad you were not where all the shooting occurred.
Scot decided not to tell her that he saw most of it happen from just a few yards away.  “I’m fine,” he assured her.  “They provided counselors for any student who might have been traumatized.  Don’t forget that this was an everyday occurrence in Vietnam.
“I really apologize for not contacting you to let you know what happened.  I didn’t call my parents either.  I assumed the media would report the names of all those killed or wounded.  That was really inconsiderate, I recognize now.  The dorms have one phone in the hallway on each floor.  Those were in constant use, so I couldn’t have called if I had wanted to.  The whole thing was such a shock, I felt a need to contact someone I trusted and discuss what happened, so I began to search for someone at school that I knew.”
“What those poor people in Vietnam must be enduring,” Susan responded taking advantage of the opportunity to move on to a less personal matter.   Actually, Scot had in mind the U.S. military personnel that were being killed.  The revelations of the horrible My Lai massacre came out about six months earlier, so that was the freshest image on the minds of most Americans when the war was the subject.
“We’ll eat in Calcutta?” Scot asked her as he put the transmission in first gear and slowly pulled into the traffic free street.
Calcutta was not a real town.  It was a section of East Liverpool. Commercial expansion was spilling rapidly over into this underdeveloped area.  People were rebelling against crowded city centers where drivers had to pay for parking if they were lucky enough to find a spot.  The new shopping centers featured large, free parking lots.  That left the city centers to die slow, agonizing deaths killed by the city fathers for a few cents from parking meters.  However, there now was plenty of parking for anyone who wanted to watch the dying inner city or patronize the rare shops that were determined to stay open until the final death knell.
Several Councilmen urged the city and merchants to combine and build a large parking garage and make parking readily available.  A nominal charge could pay for maintenance.  Most City Councils were dominated by members whose only objective was to reduce tax expenses.  They had no vision.  They never noticed the decay and stood by as the formerly buzzing commercial district wasted away with their complicity.  As the tax rigor mortis set in, less taxes came into the treasury accelerating the death of the municipality.  Most Councilmen, one of which was Scot’s uncle, preferred to watch their cities die to raising taxes by one penny.  They deemed their elections to be mandates against taxes.
Little did they realize they were the products of the greatest propaganda conspiracy ever hatched.  Everyone of them believed he was immune to propaganda.  Everyone believed he had all the information necessary to make an independent and wise decision.  Propaganda only worked in the Soviet Union which was populated by uneducated peasants, they believed.  Every member of the Council had been thoroughly brainwashed.
“Based on what you and Fred told me and what I read recently in history class, I think I have come up with the grand theory of what is the philosophical heart and soul of the American system.”
“I’m impressed,” Susan said in jest.  ”Only three years of college and you figured it all out.  I bet the doctors that work in my psychiatric ward will be thrilled that the key to the problems of all their patients has been discovered.”
“Are you through mocking?”  Scot asked faking anger.  “We all learned in High School about the trust busting of Teddy Roosevelt and William Howard Taft.  Both were Republicans, so you can imagine how criminal the corporations were to bring the wrath of the Republican Party down on their heads.  What they didn’t tell us in High School was that the corporations vowed that their privileged power never would be challenged again by some politician.
“I was browsing through the encyclopedia for information on a paper I was writing about the Committee on Public Information, a World War I organization President Wilson assembled to convince Americans they should enter that war.  I came across the business organization called the National Association of Manufacturers.  In 1913, it suddenly received millions more in contributions from its members than it usually received.  The article didn’t say why, although the massive amounts had to have drawn attention.  So I looked everywhere for the information.  I discussed this with Kevin, since his major is American history.  He believed NAM used the opportunity of the trust-busting to scam the member corporations.  But there were never any suits over the matter that he was aware of.  Then I came across the name Edward Bernays.  He worked for NAM and for the Committee on Public Information.  He was the nephew of Sigmund Freud.  He was an expert on psychology and had based his theories on his uncle’s discoveries.
Bernays convinced NAM that he could dupe most of the public into believing whatever they wanted the public to believe.
NAM wanted the public to believe corporations naturally were honest, guaranteed by the magical silent hand of the marketplace.  Also, they were naturally very efficient, the most efficient economic system possible.  There was an additional message.  Governments and unions mostly are bad.  If anything goes wrong with the economy, it’s almost always due to government or union interference.  This message was disseminated subtly everywhere, from magazines to school books, from radio programs to newspaper reports.
“To this day, that message is accepted by nearly everyone as gospel truth,” Scot concluded triumphantly.      
Calcutta was like the one surviving limb on a person who had suffered a horrible car accident.  As it thrived, more businesses moved in.  All the best restaurants and fast food outlets were in that tiny corner of East Liverpool.
Egos was the most popular restaurant.  That’s where everyone went for special occasions.  Birthdays, graduation parties, weddings, anniversary parties were held there if reservations could be made.  The restaurant had expanded a couple times, but still could be full if someone stopped by without reservations.
Susan and Scot were in luck.  They were seated immediately.  The restaurant wasn’t even half full.  It was early evening which would explain the vacancies.
Scot ordered chicken, his usual fare.  Susan, a vegetarian, ordered a salad.
“Can you tell me why the shootings occurred at Kent State.  Isn’t it against human nature to kill fellow humans?”  Scot asked.
“It’s quite natural,” Susan responded.  “Human instincts favor survival mechanisms.  Survival almost always centers around a herd, flock, pack or tribe.  Then the group or herd takes priority over the interests or rational logic of the individual.  The natural order is to have a small leadership, usually surrounding a reproductive source like the queen bee or ant, and large expendable support teams such as soldier and worker bees or ants.  Humans have that same natural urges.  Feudalism is a good example.  When there are deviations, democracy or equality for example, there is a powerful counter force pulling it back to a feudal-like structure.
“The mind constructs templates of the usual characteristics of the tribe members and the territory of the group.  It’s like living in a fortress.  Anyone outside the fortress is suspect and to be feared and distrusted, but there is a wall of safety and protection between you and the enemy.  Usually the enemy will look different, whether it’s his attire, headdress, grooming, mannerisms, etc.  Even more fearsome is an enemy inside the fortress.  He has managed to pass himself off as one of your group.  He could be standing right next to you waiting for you to become vulnerable.  Maximum fear is generated when you believe, or your leaders have convinced you, that you have something to fear outside the fort and inside the fort.  That’s when you become most irrational and are most likely to do anything to survive.  The emotional, limbic area of the brain takes control of the mind.  The person begins to function almost entirely on animal instincts.
“A massive amount of brain capacity is devoted to millions of tests searching for the slightest deviation that might expose an enemy or threat.  The result is that usually insignificant differences can translate into enormous threats as the mind sees it.  Small differences can be magnified multiple times in the brain’s ‘identification friend or foe’ efforts.”  
“Don’t we have a conscience?” Scot asked.  “Isn’t there a powerful instinct to do what is right.  Isn’t there a powerful moral drive in all of us?”
Susan thought for a couple minutes.  “As I recall from psychology class, there is a moral instinct.  However, it is a weak thread.  It can be satisfied with a few or even one ethical position.  Usually some strong stand on something like sex satisfies that need.  Then the person or tribe can go into denial about the major evil things it’s doing.  There can be nations that slaughter people regularly, mercilessly, brutally, but take a strong, self-righteous, sanctimonious stand on adultery.  I suspect there is a correlation between fanatic morals and fanatic brutality.  Those nations can convince themselves that they are moral based on one trivial ethical stand.  The right-to-lifers in this nation have no problem allowing infants to die while fanatically claiming the life of a fetus is sacred.
“The Catholic Church was a model for Fascism. Fascism took hold most readily in catholic nations such as Italy and Spain.  It sponsored the Crusades.  It reintroduced the idea of an infallible leader that Fascist leaders claimed.  Then it claims to care about fetuses.  On that one weak position, it and its followers can convince themselves that they are moral.
“The Protestant church burned witches and homosexuals, imposed harsh penalties for minor infractions or thoughts.  Yet Protestants believed they were moral because they took a strong position on sex abstinence.
“Both religions supported slavery and condoned the inhumane treatment of non-Christians.  Both religions not only considered themselves to be moral, but to be more moral than anyone else.  Then they used that ‘most moral’ claim to justify more immoral acts and practices.  This is the idea behind ‘exceptionalism.”
“Why do they spend so much time on petty and insignificant issues such as sex while ignoring massive poverty at home and, more importantly, in the Third World,” Scot asked, repeating a question Kevin had posed to him.
“Survival for all types of animal life forms has depended on close attention to the insignificant, such as a twig out of place, or a branch broken near the den,” Susan offered.  “Those are indicators or signs that there might be a predator prowling the nesting area or near the den.  The animal then can take defensive or evasive actions, or at least become more alert.  So minor changes can portend major dangers or threats.”
The waitress brought their orders and politely made sure everything was as requested, especially the vegetarian order.  Those folks could be finicky, she had discovered.
Scot watched her walk away.  As he looked up, he noticed a couple come through the entrance and approach the hostess at the reservation desk.  It was a  striking couple in that he was dressed blandly and she was dazzling.  He was about two inches shorter, but his drab attire made her seem to be two times larger.  When Scot finally was able to take his eyes off the glamorous lady, he noticed something familiar about her date.  That was not unexpected since most people never left the area, and only rarely was someone desperate enough to move into the area.   A closer look revealed it was his old friend Fred.  Fred’s religion counseled modesty and bland attire so even on special occasions he dressed the same.  Of course, many religions counseled humility.  His actually practiced it.  He was with a young lady who was unfamiliar to Scot.  She was very pretty and had long auburn hair.  She seemed very classy, in sharp contrast to Fred.  Scot watched as they were seated on the opposite side of the room.  He planned to go over and say hello just as soon as he and Susan finished eating.  He wanted to get together with Fred and ask him his opinion on the questions that were swirling around in his head.  Also, he was curious about the young lady.
“So, we naturally are petty.  Is that what you are saying?”  Scot asked recovering from his distraction quite seamlessly he believed.
“That pettiness is important to our survival.  It also insures that most of us are conservative and don’t want to upset the social structure,” Susan asserted.  “The traditions and practices of that structure allowed us to survive for many generations.  We’re inclined to cling to what has worked in the past.”
“Do people deliberately practice those minor mannerisms?”  Scot asked.  He was curious whether or not her stair descent was the product of hours of practice or was it genetic.  He hoped to find an opening to ask her about it.
“Of course.  Usually they are subconscious.  If they observe someone they admire, they will be tempted to adopt whatever mannerisms they can.  I bet you have copied many people.   In our daily lives, we adopt whatever most other people are doing, whatever works for the majority of others around us.  That’s what brings order to our society.  It’s like driving.  What if everyone drove down the road without regard for lanes or passing on the right or left?”
Scot couldn’t get Fred and his date out of his mind.  He watched them closely while attempting to listen to Susan.  He watched for any sign of intimacy.  There was none.  That could be because of the religion.  Her attire made it very unlikely that she shared his religion.  Scot wondered why he had never asked Fred about courting practices in his religion.  He had never imagined Fred dating  probably was the reason.  Live and learn.  Scot became more determined to go say hello.  “I need to go to the restroom,” he told Susan as he rose to leave.
Susan was in the middle of a sentence and was clearly annoyed at Scot’s abrupt interruption.  She watched him disappear through the archway with “RESTROOM” inscribed above it.  The letters were typical drab colors which, Scot concluded, were meant to be a guide while not being intrusive.  A few minutes later, he reemerged but didn’t return to the table.  Susan got more annoyed.
Scot left the restroom and turned right in the direction of Fred’s table.  Fred had his back to Scot, so Scot got a good look at Fred’s partner without either being aware of his intentions.  The closer he got, the more fantastic she looked.  She had that perfect small nose.  It was pretty, but was it that functional, he wondered.  Her hair was full and wavy.  A very small sliver of her face peered through its cascading locks.  One eye was visible and was a glistening green color.
Scot tapped Fred on the shoulder.  Fred turned around abruptly, noticeably startled, and glared at the intruder.  The glare quickly turned into a smile as he recognized Scot.
“What a pleasant surprise to see you here,” Scot greeted him.
“I thought you were at Kent,” Fred asserted.  “Didn’t drop out did you?  You didn’t leave because the campus turned into a war zone?  Maybe you should consider reenlisting and going to Vietnam where it’s more safe.”
As the questions were spilling from his mouth, Fred rose, turned to his left and extended his hand to Scot.  “So glad to see that you were not one of the victims, buddy,” he said with deep sincerity.
“Oh, where are my manners?” Fred asked acknowledging his dinner guest.  “This is Hazel.  Hazel, this is Scot, one of my best friends.”
“Glad to meet you,” Hazel said with a beautiful, enchanting, seductive smile on her face.  “Fred has told me so much about you.  Your climb out of one of the community’s poorest neighborhoods and rise to academic success in college is truly amazing.  Few local residents manage to claw their way out of here.  It’s like quicksand.  The more you struggle to get away, the more it pulls you back in.  I really admire your determination.”
Scot sensed Hazel’s contempt stemmed from some unpleasant personal experience.   He was flattered that this gorgeous woman knew so much about him, and was impressed with his success, minor that it was, but dismayed that his reputation included the opposite extreme in poverty.  Her voice was like that of a siren.  It put the listener into a trance.  A male listener, at least.
Scot suddenly remembered that he had abandoned his date.  “It was so great to meet you,” he said somewhat awkwardly.  He was trying to present a macho image.  The efforts were excessive leaving a more clumsy image than he intended.  Better change the subject and leave well enough alone.
“Fred, great so see you again.  We need to get together.  There are a lot of questions I have for which only you can provide an astute answer.”  Scot wanted to spread the flattery so his undue attention to Hazel would not seem too much outside his normal character.  He smiled at Hazel who was as close to an angel as any young lady he had seen in several months.  That included a campus with thousands of young women of all descriptions.  He turned standing as upright and athletic as he could muster, and walked back to the waiting, and watching, Susan.
When the luster of her face began evaporating, Hazel’s words began speaking more loudly in his mind.  She had said he came from one of the poorest families in the community.  Who told her that, he wondered.  It had to have been Fred.  Is that what Fred and his family thought?  Is that what the whole community thought?  He was shocked to learn that his family was considered, by some at least, to be the poorest family in the community.  Were Hazel’s comments out of sympathy or respect?  What kind of impression did she have of him now?  Why dwell on it?  He will never see her again, Scot concluded.
Scot returned to his seat.  He felt Susan’s eyes burning into him like a laser.  Better get control of the subject quickly.
“I haven’t seen Fred for ages,” Scot said with a lame effort at fake excitement about the chance encounter.
“Who’s his date?” Susan asked in an usually blunt way.
“Some girl named Hazel that I have never met before,” Scot responded.
“Is she from around here?” Susan asked making it clear that she was not going to drop the subject until she was fully satisfied where Hazel’s star, that shown so brightly, fit into Scot’s constellation.  Scot had strayed a couple times before, lured away by the mysteries of some other young female Scot had elevated to some terrestrial status, at least in his mind.  After he got to know her and found out she was a human being with as many flaws and shortcomings as anyone else, he always left her and returned to Susan.  Susan even arranged one date, believing Scot would reach the point of saturation and conclude Susan was as close to ideal and perfect as was possible.  The sooner the better, Susan reasoned.
Fred rose to go to the bathroom.  Scot decided he should take advantage of the opportunity for a private conversation with him.
“I need to go to the bathroom again,” Scot said to Susan.  “I’ve been drinking so much coffee lately.  It started after the shootings.  It was a temporary distraction.  I couldn’t concentrate on my books.”
  “What did you have to do to lure a lady that fantastic?” Scot asked Fred after catching up to him in the restroom.  “Is she a member of your church?”  Scot had noticed that when people widely mismatched in physical appearances got together, they usually had something else in common.
Fred beamed.  Generating envy in the eyes of others is a male frailty even Jehovah’s Witnesses couldn’t surmount.  “She came to us when she was going through an ‘exploring religions‘ phase.  Those that opposed service in the military particularly appealed to her.   We attended several social events together.  Then some unspoken exclusive relationship just happened.
“You’ve had a long relationship.  Any permanent commitments?” Scot queried in a slightly teasing tone.
“I’m not free to reveal that at this time,” Fred responded still glowing with pride and suggesting his marital future was one of the most important secrets in the nation.   Fred felt that he bested Scot this one time.  He gloried in the victory of winning the prize.  Fred had doted on Susan for years.  When Scot went to the Air Force, then college and seemed not to be committed to Susan, Fred called him and asked if he would mind if they dated.  Scot reluctantly said “No.”
“No you don’t mind, or no you don’t want me to date her?” Fred asked confronting one of those confounding puzzles of English grammar.  It was particularly perplexing when it involved such a personal issue.
“No, I don’t mind,” Scot responded getting some glee from his friend’s discomfort.  He was surprised that anyone, let alone his modest friend Fred, would be brazen enough to ask permission to date someone else’s girlfriend.  It seemed more like a father-daughter situation.  Most people would let the gossip network provide the answer.
“Why would you let such a wonderful girl get away?” Fred asked.  He was probing for faults he might not have detected in Susan.
“I’m not ready to make a commitment, and I don’t feel right expecting Susan to remain loyal to me,” Scot confided.  "My father always said his wife would never want for anything necessary, nor would she ever work outside the home.  That's the least I can do for my wife.  Right now, I can't do either."
Susan refused to date Fred anyway.  Since Susan was not dating anyone else at the time, Fred was doubly hurt.  Now Fred convinced himself that God was behind the rejection because He had someone better in His larger plan.  Then He delivered Hazel to Fred.
“What did people around here think about the shootings at Kent State?”  Scot asked, moving away from the sensitive personal subject.  He could trust Fred to give a sincere, deliberated answer.
“The vast majority of Ohioans, I’ve talked to, and from media reports, felt that lethal action by the National Guard was justified.  The parents of the victims, of course, disagree.”
“This reaction could be anticipated,” Fred responded.  “Ohioans are conservative in my opinion.  They are advocates of law-and-order, or at least their interpretation of it.”
“They seem to be single minded in this case,” Scot asserted.  “Do you find they have carefully considered the event from all angles?  Did the media around here try to present all the evidence impartially?”
“People do function with one mind, especially in a time of crisis, I believe,” Fred retorted.  “Remember when you argued that Americans are different and pride themselves on uniqueness?  One example, you said, was that everyone dressed differently.  That was the most obvious sign that Americans are free, you told me.
“After you graduated from high school and went into the Air Force, your mother said you wrote home that you were anxious to get your Air Force uniforms.  Why did you change your mind?  If everyone was wearing uniforms, that means you had surrendered your freedom according to your theory.”
Scot pondered the question trying to recall what he had said both to Fred and in the letter home.  “For that first week to 10 days while we were waiting for our uniforms, we were marched around base dressed in our civilian clothes.  Everyone else had uniforms and mocked those of us who still dressed in civilian clothes.  It did seem out of place and counterintuitive for people in civilian clothes to be marching like soldiers.  They even had a chant mocking those who were without uniforms and still dressed in their multicolored civilian clothes.  It went: ‘Rainbow, rainbow, don’t be blue.  We were once a rainbow too.’  We stood out like sore thumbs and had a strong urge to blend in.  Now that I think of it, that had to be intentional.  All Air Force recruits were processed through Lackland Air Force Base in San Antonio, Texas.  They had plenty of uniforms of all sizes when we finally went to the clothing warehouse to get uniforms.  They didn't ask us for our sizes.   They just looked at us then threw clothes at us.  Even that small event must have been just another exercise in instilling total conformity in us."
“That’s exactly what I was talking about.”  Fred said triumphantly.  “They deliberately delayed issuing your uniforms, I bet.  After several days of humiliation and standing out like a sore thumb, they finally issued the uniforms.  That’s deliberate policy intended to make you demand your individuality be stripped away.  You never forget that lesson.  You become less of an individual and more a member of the herd.  You become a member of a new norm.
“In that case, you were a distinct minority, and the differences were in magnitudes.  You represented a variety of colors and the norm was one color, the color of the fatigues worn most of the time.
“Now you know what it’s like to be a person of my religion”