Peter, Number 303: On the day the lottery numbers were announced, everyone was very quiet on my dorm floor. I found out my number was 303. I had lucked out. One of my closest friends, Glen, wasn’t as lucky. His number was 36. But Glen was the eternal optimist. I’ll always remember his reaction: ‘So I’ll go…and I’ll come back.’ He was the first on the floor to go to Vietnam. He wrote me often from his outpost…and even sent me back one of his green army shirts with his name sewed on above the breast pocket. I went on to be a correspondent for Newsweek and covered the war at home. In the end, Glen kept his word. He went to Vietnam. He came back, and thankfully in one piece…physically. But mentally he was never the same…he simply stopped writing and disappeared. I still have that shirt today, a reminder of how the lottery changed both our lives.