I made my way to the Selective Service office in Boston right after breakfast Monday morning. The sergeant that met me tried to direct me straight to the area where physicals were being performed. I told him he needed to read my letter first. He looked it over quickly.
‘You’re in a bit of trouble. You’re almost a week late. And why are you here? You’re supposed to report in Los Angeles.’
I explained that my family had come to Massachusetts for the summer and our mail had just caught up with us. He led me down a hallway and turned me over to a senior NCO, briefly explaining my situation before he left. The senior NCO picked up the phone and made a call. After a brief conversation full of jargon that I didn’t understand, he hung up and turned his attention to me.
He filled out some forms while I stood in front him, wondering what was going to happen.
He handed me some paperwork. ‘Come back Thursday morning. Be here at oh six hundred, promptly. That’s six AM in case you don’t know what time that is. Bring a change of clothes and your toiletries for an overnight stay. Don’t be late, this time. Get your affairs in order between now and then.’ He waved his hand in dismissal.
I went straight to the Simon, Bailey, Perkins, and Thompson law offices. I introduced myself to the receptionist and asked to speak to John Perkins.
‘Is he expecting you?’ she asked politely after looking at a sheet of paper. ‘I don’t see you on his schedule.’
‘If you’d be so kind as to tell him I’m here, I’m sure he’ll take a moment to talk to me.’
She picked up the phone and spoke briefly to someone named Mavis. When she hung up, she said, ‘Have a seat. Mr. Perkins will see you in a few minutes. He’s in a meeting.’
Perkins came out a few minutes later and greeted me warmly. ‘Jonas, it’s good to see you. Is everything is okay? I wasn’t expecting you. Come, let’s go to my office.’ He stopped at his secretary’s desk after telling me to go in and have a seat. He joined a few minutes later.
‘What can I do for you, Jonas?’ he asked, taking on a more businesslike tone.
‘I’m about to be drafted. I need a will and I need it done quickly.’
Perkins took a notebook from a drawer in his desk and grabbed a pencil. We spent the next hour detailing how my assets would be distributed in the event of my demise. I made provisions for Gwen and the twins, Mike and her unborn child. I also provided a significant sum to the TaiBay Foundation, specifying how the money was to be managed and acceptable uses for it.
At the end of the conversation, I said, ‘This needs to be ready for my signature no later than Wednesday afternoon. I’m due at the induction center Thursday morning. I need to wrap this up before I leave Boston, which will probably be Thursday afternoon.’
‘I’ll put Ethan Davis and two associates on it right away. We’ll have it ready for you. How does five-thirty Wednesday sound?’
‘I’ll make it work. I assume you have to talk to the Williams-Davis Group regarding some things? I asked.
‘Yes. There are estate management and transfer concerns in the event of your death. Who’s your contact?’ he asked.