Michael Willetts - Interview #2

This was now my fifth day since I had returned to Yuba City. I hadn't talked to Michael since I got here, not since that first interview. I can see myself being criticized for not taping more material with him, because he has been so determined in his refusals to talk with reporters or writers. It looks like I'm not taking full advantage of a rare opportunity. I don't know if it's true, but his lawyer told me Michael turned Geraldo Rivera down flat, he wouldn't talk to Barbara Walters on the phone, and he refused to answer a letter from Truman Capote pleading for a chance to meet. And here I am, with apparently free access, and I've only spoken to him once.

Apart from other considerations, if I don't talk to him more, I know it will make all the rest of this much less likelY to be thought publishable, if that is what I eventually decide to do with it. (This must be what I eventually decided, I guess.) He's at the center of this thing and he is the person that the public is supposed to want to know about, and if I don't get more with him, I am sure my credibility as someone who was able to get important material that no one else could have dug up will be severely questioned. Also, if I can't deal with the central figure in the drama, what right should I have to make so much of the supporting players, and of my own commentary on the action? That's what I'm sure people would say.

My hesitation has to do with Michael Willetts himself, I'd like to think. For one, I'm extremely fortunate anyone is still reading this, after being forced to suffer through the considerable tedium of that first interview. I would like not to be too critical, because I'm certainly partly to blame, and I do feel there's a lot that could be found to be of considerable significance, but I think Michael has some severe problems which make that interview torture to follow closely. His worst and most obvious failing, though there might be some competition for that honor, is his wallowing self-pity, so clearly coupled to a sense that everything that ever happened to him is of incredible historical importance. If I have to hear one more anecdote of what he went through on some famous day in history, I mean, even if he did kill all five of these guys alone and becomes known as one of the most famous mass murderers in Twentieth Century American history, are there really people out there who want all that trivia collected? It was enough of a struggle for me to leave that first interview in here reasonably intact. I don't know if I could be as journalistically responsible if I had a lot more of that stuff to transcribe and edit. It was my original intention, as I think I said somewhere in the first part, that I'd try to stay away from judging the stuff I'd be gathering, that I'd just present it straight. Well, I have to admit, that's getting pretty hard, not just in terms of expressing opinions as I report, but more in seeing so clearly what any reader would be certain to find too dull or self-justifying even to pay any attention to.

Along with Michael's self-pity problem, and surely related to it, I'd have to say I can't ignore any longer all that Sixties nostalgia routine of his. While I may share some of those feelings myself, and perhaps have indulged similarly in these pages, I have to say how repulsive and empty of meaning that sort of' activity ought to be viewed. I mean, by the time this sees print, we'll be well into the Eighties, right? Having a sense of history is a very different thing from getting stuck within it. There's a lot going on now that makes me pretty sick too, and I'd be ecstatic to be transported back to 1969 again, but it's not going to happen. When I turn on the radio it's going to be Billy Joel and not The Marvelettes, and if I go to the movies it's not going to be The Wild Bunch. This is a new time, and I'd rather learn to deal with it than get lost in phony longing for a period that probably wasn't that great anyway. Were the Sixties so good for Michael if it took him ten years to brood over what had happened to him then, and if these killings were his form of response?

I will do my best to try to find out what's going on in Michael's head, because I do recognize my unique position here, but don't expect me to get as hung up on that as Michael himself is. He sounds as if, were I willing, he'd sit in that conference room at the jail all day long pouring out every last thought that came into his head and into my microphone. Also, I did want to make clear that I am not in full sympathy with everything he says, though I have indicated areas of shared feeling. He and I are different people, and if I am serving as his conduit, that obviously doesn't have to mean I've approved of everything that goes by me. I am saying this to fend off the inevitable charges, which I have already been getting here in town, that I am doing this to exonerate Michael from his possible responsibilities for his crimes. All I can say is I'm not, and the clearest evidence for that is, I believe, the amount of damning material that could already be construed from what you have read so far. Would someone attempting to get Michael off the hook have kept all that in? Just as I am trying to stay out of this as much as I can in order to let the facts as gathered and the people as spoken to represent themselves, please do not become so overly concerned with my role in this that you yourself lose sight of the far more important questions being dealt with here. As I have also said, given what is by now a pretty large pile of material that has accumulated in newspaper and magazines for those who care to seek it out, I am more than prepared to have my material scrutinised for accuracy and compared for fairness with all the available literature. If you still find serious fault with me, then so be it.

Anyway, pardon that brief aside. We return now to the Michael Willetts question, having recorded my frame of mind as I went in to do the second interview. The last thing I want to comment upon prior to that is my own present reaction, on my fifth day, to the question of Michael's guilt. I know I will have more to say on this whenever I get to wrapping this whole thing up, but I should report that at present I find little likelihood of Michael's being innocent. It is certainly possible, however, that others assisted him, even though just about everybody else comes up with loads of solid reasons this is so unlikely. I still don't find that matter settled, though I doubt seriously whether I will be able to do more on that than make a guess or two. Nobody's going to admit to me that they helped Michael do this and certainly Michael will make no admissions implicating others either. I'm not stupid enough to think that would happen. One really smart thing Michael did say that first time is that it might not matter who did it. I could be getting to where I see what he meant. I don't think that's supposed to suggest he's not guilty. It could mean instead that a more interesting question would be who is capable of doing it, and if a crime of this sort could have been committed by a number of people, whether alone or in some combination, that's a way of saying if it's a crazy act, killing them all these ways, then it's a craziness that might have been spread around pretty broadly. And once you say that, it's a whole different crime entirely. I keep realizing that what does make me feel that being here is important is still the compelling nature of the crime itself. I consider this a note to myself to keep sight of that one hour, the people who died, and what it might mean.

So, this is interview number two with Michael, an interview I resolved to keep more in control than the first. Location is the same.

Q: Well Michael, I'm back.

A: So I see. What have you been up to? Anything interesting?

Q: I don't think I should be reporting back, do you? Our time would be better spent getting into new areas, and not going back over old ones.

A: Oh, so it's going to be like that, is it? No interest in talking about who's been spilling the beans about me. OK, be that way. I've had no intention of using you as my eyes and ears to the outside world anyway. Whatever you've found out, you're welcome to. I'm not that interested. Sorry I asked. What do you want to talk about then?

Q: Well, one thing I've been wondering about a bit is, I hoped I could ask you your feelings about veterans.

A: That's a pretty broad question, isn't it? Did you have anything specific in mind? Any people in particular you're asking about? Any problem you're most interested in getting to?

Q: How about telling me if you've had much contact with local veterans, maybe guys we used to know in high school, or fellows you might have run into somewhere or other. For instance, I think the first time we talked you said something about Roger Templeman. Have you talked to him much?

A: Oh, I get it. Listen, Steve, don't be a son-of-a-bitch with me. Our talking could end real quickly if you try to pull any tricks. Don't forget that I'm not too dumb. I was always smarter than you, wasn't I, and it bugged the hell out of you. That's easy to remember. No matter how hard you studied for a test, I would score at least a few points higher, wouldn't I? If we both tried to figure out some math or physics problem, who worked it out first? Don't think I've gotten any stupider just because you went away from here and I stayed. I realized after I talked to you that I had mentioned Roger Templeman, and that it might have been a mistake you'd pick up. I can tell by the weasely way you asked that question that obviously you've spoken to him and gotten some information which you think makes me look bad. That was written all over your self-satisfied face as you smirked your way through that sneaky question. So don't play dumb with me, Steve. You fit the part too well. Don't forget I may have mentioned Roger Templeman to you deliberately, and that you fell for my trap without realizing it. If I'm supposed to be smart enough to have killed all these guys, I'd certainly be smart enough to do a chickenshit thing like that, wouldn't I. So don't sell me short. If you've got some question to ask, come straight out and ask it. Don't pull stuff like that, pretending to be asking one question when you're really trying to sneak under the door with something else entirely.

Q: I guess that's a long-winded way of saying you don't want to answer the question. If you don't want to talk about Roger Templeman, OK. I get your drift. I'd still like to know about either local guys you know who were in the war, or how you feel in general about guys who went over. Answer however you want is what I'm saying, as long as you've got something interesting to say that isn't another avoidance of a reply.

A: I don't have to avoid answers to anything. I just wanted you to know I could see very clearly the game you're playing. You want to know my feelings about veterans. I'll tell you. I think it's an interesting question. I'd say first I do see that as a separate question from how I feel about the war, and it is something I've tried to take a more flexible position on. I should be able to feel one way about the war, and differently about those who fought it. I should be able to, but try as hard as I can, I can't. Deep down, they still have a hell of a lot to answer for. If all those guys who complain about being unwitting pawns and how nobody loved them when they got back and all that shit would stop and think for a minute, you still have to say that if so goddam many of them weren't so fucking stupid as to go over there, it would have been a lot different war, if it would have been a war at all. It's real easy for them to say how being over there turned their heads around, how you had to live through it to be genuinely anti-war, but what that really means to me is they were too dumb before they left to do any thinking first. Just because they wised up after it was too late is no reason to feel sorry for them now. It kills me to hear one of them say he didn't realize how immoral the war was until after he flew twenty-five bombing missions, which means I'm supposed to feel sorry for a guy who has finally come to his senses after wiping out who knows how many hundreds of people. I mean really, how can you get choked up about a dumb asshole like that. Let him ask the people he killed if they're ready to forgive him. If you want me to get into this further, and go ahead and stop me if you think I'm rambling on or later erase the tape or something, I'll tell you one bunch I especially have no good feelings for at all, and that's those POW's. Nothing made me more angry than having to watch those guys treated like heroes. What was the big deal? Even from their own standpoint they should have seen what failures they were. I'd think it would be pretty clear that as a soldier you're a loser if you let yourself get captured. One of the points to being a successful soldier would be to get away clean after a mission, especially if you've got all the technology and they don't. So here were these guys coming back from totally screwing up, a long time after just about everybody acknowledged that the whole war was a fiasco, and somehow we're supposed to get all choked up when they kiss the ground and salute the President and all that sanctimonious shit. A farce, a total and complete farce.

You want to know about the local guys? I can tell you about that too. I'd still like to meet one vet who will tell you that he's glad he went over there and he's proud of what he did. There must be some of them out there someplace, but I've never met any. They either blame their stupidity on politicians or the government or the times or some damn thing, or start telling you how surprised they were that they weren't treated like visiting royalty once they got back, that there were people here who were hostile to what they had done. Hostile! None of these guys ever take personal responsibility for anything. They were either somebody else's dupes, or else it's why don't we love 'em the way the World War II vets were loved. I was glad to see some of them turn anti-war, but I always thought of them kind of like reformed criminals, ones who changed so they wouldn't go back to prison, or because they thought they were duped or been treated unfairly, certainly not because they'd given the idea of killing any greater thought. If I could have sympathy for them at all it would be because so many were young and came from places like this and they had no idea what they were doing. Even so, I would not single out veterans as a group particularly deserving of sympathy or understanding. They cry out for special favors far out of proportion to what they deserve. They're not my worst villains, but I can't see my way clear to saying I feel for what they went through and all that shit. I know this is an unpopular position to take, but I'm not too popular a guy anyway, am I?

At least there's a kind of consistency to what I'm saying, I think. I don't have the problems those anti-war people have who took up the banner of veterans' causes. That's no different from such rich guy going on about how tough it is to be poor and how concerned we should be for their miserable predicament. It's trying to use people for your own ends, which are different from theirs. It's funny to me to see veterans used that way, because it shows that's about all they're good for They go from being tools of one side to tools of the other. Real progress.

Q: I guess a natural direction to take this would be to get into the draft a little. Do you mind if I ask you about that?

A: Of course not. The funny thing is, I don't think I have general ideas that are too well formulated. Even if I did, I don't know how useful it is for me to go on about it. I know that must sound odd coming from me since I can talk and talk about all this stuff, I know, but I'm trying not to say obvious things. A lot of my feelings about the draft would be fairly predictable. I'd rather talk about how the draft operated around here and how it affected us. That's more important. Anybody can have personal views. What ought to matter is facts.

Q: That's easy enough to say.

A: Sure. I just mean I'd rather talk about what happened than what my ideas are. Of course I could still be making everything up or leaving a lot out, but I think it makes a difference to try to remember things as they were, rather than to work out in our minds vague general positions on abstractly posed issues. The first is hard enough, and that's what I'm talking about doing.

For instance, I bet you don't remember how you signed up for the draft, to get your draft card. You'd think that would be an important enough event to remember how it was done, wouldn't you? Do you remember?

Q: Not offhand. I imagine when I turned eighteen I had to go down to the Selective Service office and fill out some card. Isn't that how it was done? What difference does that make?

A: The difference is, you can't even remember. Think back, dummy. There was a boys' assembly at school for juniors, and we were told then how the draft worked. They explained we had to fill out these sheets they had with them about how old we were and when we would turn eighteen, and that when that happened, all we had to do was watch for our cards to arrive in the mail. We signed up for the draft at school in one big group, under the eyes of soldiers and teachers. You don't remember that?

Q: To be honest, I don't. I also don't see what difference it makes.

A: You don't see a difference between being brought in as a group and forced to fill out things you've never seen before, and going in on your own when you turn eighteen? You don't think it matters that we were given patriotic pep talks right in school about our responsibilities to serve? Well, you think about it sometime. I've got too many other points of fact to bring up to take time to argue this part with you. Something else you probably don't remember is how you learned about your classification.

Q: Oh that I remember. It came on your card.

A: What do you mean it came on your card?

Q: When you received your draft card, your classification was on it.

A: Which was?

Q: Well, first it was 1-A, then later because of my medical

problems I was able to get it changed.

A: How did it get to be 1-A in the first place?

Q: Michael, don't play these Socratic games with me. I'm the one who's supposed to be asking the questions. If you've got something to say, please say it.

A: You're slow getting the message. I was trying to remind you that a 1-A classification was automatic. In other words, if you did nothing, you got drafted. It was up to you to argue out of a 1-A, which is like being forced to argue out of being guilty. The burden, not just of proof, but of having to institute the whole procedure, was entirely on you. To me, that was a pretty serious wrinkle in the process, one that it is worth being reminded of, no matter what you think.

Q: OK, I see your point. I forgot how it was done.

A: So, the next part of it is, when you do have some gripe to take up with them, which not very many people from around here had I might add, who was it that you brought your case to? Was it "peers", the way a jury would be? Selective Service was always so proud of how Draft Boards were made up of community members, as if that guaranteed a fair hearing. You look at any Draft Board, not just this one, and you tell me what they were besides being community members. There were all gung-ho Army guys themselves, of course, every last one of them. And nobody ever trained them to make their decisions according to consistent guidelines, even if the guidelines would have been screwed up themselves. You don't have to take my word on this either, go check yourself. Find out if any Draft Board member ever had any kind of training for their job, their job being nothing less than the power of life and death in many cases, and often involving complex issues or sensitive moral questions they knew nothing about. Even if you agreed with the idea of the draft, how could anybody find that a defensible system? You get a bunch of American Legion assholes together who think the answer to the world's problems is to show how tough we are, and then you have them be the ones who implement deferment policies. If you think about it at all, it's so unbelievable.

Q: Is it fair to characterize them that way? Is "American Legion asshole" a description that will persuade anybody that what you're saying is correct?

A: I'm not trying to persuade anybody, but you go see if I'm wrong or not. As I said, there was not a single Draft Board member anywhere who was not a veteran himself, that's a verifiable and obvious fact, and I defy you to find one who did not wholeheartedly support American policies in Vietnam, except when they took the more extreme position that we weren't doing enough and should be sending more soldiers and firepower over there. You tell me what a guy like that is going to do when an eighteen year old comes in front of him and claims to have moral and ethical principles that run counter to the way those guys have lived their lives.

Q: Is that what you did?

A: I wasn't eighteen. I did it when I was twenty, and after my student deferment had run out. Most of them were even against student deferments if you asked them, they were against anything that didn't lead to immediate induction. Fortunately the law was quite clear and it didn't give them much chance to impose their will under some circumstances. I'm glad I didn't try it when I was eighteen, they would have eaten me alive. Not that I came out much better when I did try it, but at least I had some idea of what was going on by then. I still wasn't too bright about a lot of it, but I wasn't a total idiot. It was funny too that when I did get to them they made a lot of how I didn't say anything about "my so-called principles", as they always called them, until then instead of doing it right away. Any way you tried for deferments, they were convinced you were a draft-dodger. They said that to me straight out both times I saw them.

Q: Why did you see them twice?

A: They made so many outrageous errors the first time, that a letter I wrote with the help of a draft lawyer from San Francisco got them scared enough to do the whole thing over. The second time wasn't much different, except that they had a secretary there this time writing everything down. We appealed it, of course, but none of the later reviews changed anything. They acted like the appeals were the same as going to some higher court that would give you a close impartial reverse, but certainly it wasn't. Those were just opportunities they had to cover their own asses. They didn't reverse judgments, they rewrote them so you felt you had no additional case if you wanted to make a big deal out of it. How you could ever be able to make a big deal out of it I never really knew, but they could intimidate you pretty good. This is a shortened version of that part of the story, but I guess that's roughly how it went. It was always a totally corrupt system, completely indefensible on any level.

Q: Is it fair for you to base your opinions upon just your own experiences, or on how it appeared to work here? Even if you do have reasons to be angry, why does that mean it was the same every place?

A: I don't really care if I'm being fair or not. They didn't care if they were fair with me, and eventually I came around to being the same way they were. You lose "fair" real fast when you get into this stuff.

Q: Then let me ask what it is you really have to complain about. I guess I know part of the story, but it still looks like you were angry because they didn't classify you a conscientious objector. You still found another way to get out, so I can't see what you had to be that angry over. It isn't like you actually went in and got sent there. I honestly would like to know. I'm not just saying this to argue with you.

A: I'm sorry you feel you have to ask. It shows how much you've surrendered yourself to their way of thinking. What they did or didn't do in my specific case isn't really what I'm talking about. Of course that's part of the process I went through, but what I'm trying to get at is not whether they were unfair with me or not, it's how they did things, and how nothing ever happened to them for having done it. Didn't we talk about this last time? I don't know, these things keep running around in my head. I know I finally managed to avoid going in. That was never my complaint. And I certainly realize that I was changed by what I encountered in trying to deal with them, that it must have twisted me up, possibly a lot. But I've never been a guy to squawk about what's fair or unfair. I don't think I'm that way. When I get totally angry is when I think about all of us, the ones who went in and the ones who didn't, both. We were all affected by it, everyone was changed. They came into our lives, forced their thoughts onto us, tried to make us become like them. When you didn't, one way or another they could get to you. Am I wrong in seeing it like that?

Q: I don't know. I'm not entirely sure what you mean. If you want my opinion, you're making a lot out of some old, old problems, and if basically what you're saying is that you're sort of moping over some feelings that your life or our lives might have gone differently without the war or without the draft, then I'm not sure if all this is worth trying to get into in any depth. Who would want to know about it? It sounds like, if you don't mind my saying so, that you're sort of whining about being dissatisfied over other people not caring as much as you do about all the terrible things that happened then. I don't want to be too critical, but I can't see where this is getting us anyplace.

A: Well, if I was only the type who whined, I wouldn't be in jail right now, would I? I might have found something to do besides crying in my beer.

Q: I've got to say you have a point there.

A: I'm glad you think so.

Q: Then I don't suppose it will get me any further than it did last time, but what we ought to talk about is whether you had a part in these murders. If you have legal reasons not to want to talk about this, I could certainly understand. But if you aren't guilty and believe you will eventually be set free, or else if you did kill these guys and are planning sometime to admit it, then I don't know why you won't talk about it now I guess it could be that you're trying to protect other people who may have helped you, but even so, I'd think we could at least discuss your involvement a little more directly. Otherwise, our talking seems so evasive. We skirt around things, and even when we're discussing the Draft Board and certain things they did, it doesn't quite get to what seems to matter most here.

A: You mean if these five guys weren't killed, then none of what we're talking about would be either important or interesting?

Q: I don't know if I'd put it that way, but I guess that's what I mean.

A: Then you've given a very good reason yourself for why these murders should have happened. I didn't even have to say it.

Q: But why should their being dead make anything you're saying more worth listening to?

A: If you want an honest answer to that, I'd say you're absolutely right. Their deaths don't turn these subjects into hot issues again. Some people might have a mild curiosity, only so far as trying to understand a killer's motivation, but I think it is true that's not the same as making anybody understand things about the past or change their minds about anything at all. And people who would only be curious about something if it helps explain these few murders, when they don't care about all the deaths that occurred back then, those aren't people who are worth trying to reach anyway, I wouldn't think So on that

score, I've got no argument with you.

Q: Then can you be at all enlightening on what the point of these murders might have been? I guess I can see you plan on continuing not to speak of your own role, so I won't keep pressing on that if it's getting nowhere, but if we could just talk about it as something that you clearly have ideas about, I would like to hear what the point might be.

A: I don't think I should have to spell it all out, but here's a couple of things I would say. If you have to ask, I guess one you wouldn't buy would be plain, simple, straight retribution It would seem on that level alone these murders would be wholly justified. Who died? Five guys who volunteered themselves for years as instruments to force unwilling kids to meaningless deaths, to leave at least hundreds of others physically maimed and psychologically scarred, if we're speaking only of what they were directly responsible for, not even considering any symbolic aspects of this. Those five are now dead. Isn't this kind of explanation fairly obvious? Do you really need for me to say these things?

Q: Well, I could have pretty well set that one out myself, but what you think should be more important, and if it were so obvious as you say, then there shouldn't have been as much disagreement as there's been over why these deaths have occurred.

A: I'm not talking about how people might have reacted to this, what the so-called man on the street would think, Naturally there would be differences of opinion about it, and those would continue no matter what I or anyone else would say. I'm not talking at all about what people would think, what I'm saying is five people responsible for a lot have had to answer for what they've done. That's one nice simple explanation, unadorned by complicating factors. If you want to go further with this, I don't mind. These deaths make eminent sense to me because, just from my own experience with these five particular guys, killing them is the only way to make any communication. There was no other way to reach them. I know that sounds like an exaggerated, extreme comment, but believe me, that's the honest-to-God truth. They were so unswervingly convinced of the absolute rightness of everything they were doing, argument or disagreement was looked on as some kind of perverse deviation. It was like a religion to them, doggedly sticking to certain articles of faith. If I didn't go into the Army, we'd be fighting next on Plumas Avenue and it would all be my fault, or theirs for letting me get

away with it.

Q: One of the things that bothers me a lot about the way you talk is that you lump all five of them together. Isn't there any possibility that there was some diversity or difference of opinion somewhere among the five? I mean, you had a school administrator there, businessmen, a farmer. There was a mix among the group wasn't there?

A: Sure, the way Goebbels, Goerring, and Hess had differences. No, forget I said that. I didn't mean that. I hate any analogies involving Nazis. Please don't ever quote me saying that. To answer seriously, or more seriously than that, you did ask a good question. One way to answer would be to say that even if there were differences, they weren't sufficient to allow any to escape their common fate. Would these deaths have looked the same if one had survived? How would the newspapers have looked? "Four Out of Five in Draft Board Killed". That would have been too much to fit in a headline. This would be known as the

80% Draft Board Murders. And think how bad the last guy would have felt. He probably would have been suspected of taking care of his colleagues to gain seniority or a promotion or pension or something. Or worse, from the position of the murderer, it would look like he had somehow failed in carrying out his intentions, that the last guy lived as a result of bad planning.

I could see lots of reasons why they ought to have been treated alike. Maybe we should have gotten some board together and allowed any of them who felt they should have been left out to be given a chance to state their case, pick up a deferment maybe. They were so group-minded anyway, I'm sure they all would have wanted it this way, to go out with the rest of the platoon, or whatever you'd call it.

I've been wondering, speaking of that, why the Army or the President or somebody hasn't seen that they get medals for how they died. That would make it too perfect. Killed in action, above and beyond the call of duty, more shit like that. Why haven't they done it, do you think?

Q: I suppose nobody else considers these deaths in combat, and none of them were in the Army any longer. Carter did make some statement, though, didn't he? I thought I heard it on the news.

A: He did, but something real bland about mourning the tragic loss, not much more than that. Just a routine statement. Not even any anger for the murderer. The only truly vicious comments I think I ever saw about this were from some Pentagon official, except he was kind of funny because he also said something about the possibility of this being a KGB plot to undermine our defense capability in the event a draft is ever reinstituted. He did say, though, that if the FBI didn't want to handle the case, the Army could come in and find the people responsible, put them before a courtmartial, and then he'd personally take charge of cutting their balls off. That was a little extreme for an Under Secretary of the Army, some three-star general, don't you think?

Q: I did hear about that one. It was a pretty incredible

thing for him to say.

A: The presumption as well that no women were involved was also kind of typical, unless he had some punishment for the women he didn't want to mention. He talked the way they always used to, in that tone of "let's blow those gooks to smithereens". It was just like old times. Fantastic.

Q: We're getting a little off the track again, I think. You'd probably call this an overly obvious subject, too, but I don't think we talked the last time about the ways they were killed. Was that to be symbolic also, do you think?

A: Well, we can start by being literal again. If Army weapons were used, it might be because they were the best way to get the job done. One thing you could say about these killings is that they're an advertisement saying if you're looking for ways to efficiently deal out death, the Army is the place to go. I know how sensational these murders became as the result of all the Army firepower deployed, and that's certainly a big part of this whole event's notoriety, but you still could see it as the killer's tribute to the Armed Services, acknowledging death weapons as their area of expertise. Not a civilian bit of goods in the entire enterprise, it appears.

Q: You're not serious about this, are you?

A: You asked. I'm trying to answer. Another thing you could say is that the only person or persons who could be so proficient in the use of Army equipment might have been, or used to be, one of their very own. Putting a civilian like me under arrest could be part of an official smokescreen hiding the participation of products of their own death training. As you say, why should I have been that angry at the Draft Board? What you were implying was that if I was sent over there, that would be a legitimate reason to want revenge against them. Following that line of thought should be simple. Those guys could have been killed by somebody they sent over themselves, using the trade the Army taught them, you could say. They'd have been hoist on their own petards, I believe the expression goes, and what better petards than napalm, grenades, pointed sticks, and bullets?

Q: There was talk like that right after the killings, that it had to have been a veteran. But couldn't you take that a step further and say that using those weapons could itself be a smokescreen to hide the identity of someone like yourself?

A: Sure you could say that, and they are saving that or I wouldn't be here. That gives me a lot of credit, don't you think, to figure I'd be able to secretly round up all that equipment, learn how to use it, and then get rid of it afterwards.

Q: You reminded me yourself you were pretty smart. Are you telling me you wouldn't be capable of doing that?

A: Oh I could have been capable of it, I suppose, but so could plenty of other people. I'm a pretty convenient set-up for an arrest, don't you think?

Q: I don't know if you're convenient or not, but it's hard to be sorry for you if I don't know what I'm supposed to be sorry for, an innocent victim or a justified revenger. My sympathy can't be so vaguely directed.

A: I wasn't asking for sympathy, so you can keep it either way. You have an obnoxious habit of taking an answer and twisting it around into something else entirely. I don't think you're that impressed with what I've been telling you.

Q: Does it really matter whether I'm impressed or not by your theories about the killings? I'd much rather just find out the truth.

A: And you think all that's involved in getting the truth is asking questions and then hoping it's served up to you in handy take-home containers. I thought I was supposed to be the small town hick.

Q: Then what should I be talking to you for, if it's not to try and find out what happened and why?

A: What happened is no big secret. You can go look at the graves if you want proof of that. God damn it, you should care about history a lot more than you do. Not only because you were old enough to be part of it. In fact, that's why you should want to know, because you should have been part of it and you weren't. You were around then and you missed out. And people younger than us are even worse off, because now there's nothing happening to be left out of. They should care to find out about what they missed, why it might be preferable to live in a time when things matter.

Q: Thanks for the speech. I'm sorry you had to become a mass murderer before I got to hear it.

A: You're really disappointing me, Steve. I thought you cared about things more than you seem to.

Q: Listen Michael. I think the war was horrible, the draft was disgusting, and I'm grateful that neither are around anymore. Isn't that enough?

A: You probably should have stayed here. That might have kept you from turning into such a smart-ass empty-headed jerk. You could have still been able to care about something. If I did kill these guys, I'd much rather be me than you. What have you ever done that's made the tiniest bit of difference in anything? What's your excuse for existing?

Q: And killing a whole Draft Board is an excuse for existing?

A: If you can't see why that might be possible, you're pretty limited as a person.

Q: Then help enlighten me.

A: Your sarcasm is no more impressive than some of your other mental capabilities. I would have thought you had been around me long enough to have turned out differently.

Q: Yeah, maybe if I had stayed, I could have turned into a

killer too.

A: I don't think this is getting us anywhere. I may have to start ignoring your attitude and think more of that tape recorder. Eventually you might realize that I could be saying things of value, or perhaps there'll be other people this will get to who might be smarter than you are.

Q: I don't think ego is one of your problems either.

A: If I want to hear shit like this, I could be talking to

Geraldo Rivera instead. I expected better of you than this, Steve, even if it has been ten years.

Q: You're right Michael. I'm not too good at doing this.

I'm sorry.

A: I don't need apologies either. Just help me to talk a little. That's not a lot to ask.

Q: I'll try not to argue with you. We may have spoken enough for today, don't you think. This is getting me kind of upset. When I come back, I'll try to have a better frame of mind.

A: There is one more thing I'd like to say now on the subject of some of the things we've been talking about. If I don't mention it I'm afraid I might forget, and since it's in the form of a prediction, I'd like to get it on record before it happens, just so I can say I anticipated it.

Q: And what might that be?

A: I think you can figure it out. I believe this could have been just the start.

Q: Of what?

A: The Yuba City Draft Board Murders might be just the beginning.

Q: Of other murders.

A: Jesus, you are slow. I mean, if I had ever been on a Draft Board, I wouldn't be sleeping too well these days.

Q: You think the same killers would strike again?

A: That would be one way. Same killers, different killers, what I'm talking about is the result. I wouldn't be too surprised to see this happen elsewhere. Maybe not as efficiently, maybe not for a little while still, but I don't see why this is necessarily an isolated occurrence.

Q: An isolated occurrence! Do you realize what you're saying? You talk about five brutal deaths in the space of an hour as a pretty routine event.

A: More people were killed in an hour in Vietnam any hour the U.S. Army was there, and that was always thought routine.

Q: You don't have to return to the history lesson.

A: I'm simply saying that if you look at these five deaths, they might not be that big a deal after all, except as a pattern for what might follow. There are people out there who could take inspiration from what happened here and could see entirely what the point of this was, even if you fail to.

Q: I want to make it clear right this instant, that I in no way endorse what you're saying. It's a shocking idea, and I reject it outright. I wouldn't dream in any way of assisting you in propagating an idea like that. If this ever does see print someday, I hope it will be immediately apparent that the only reason to preserve a comment like that would be to show your present state of mind, not to suggest the tiniest bit of approval for what you're suggesting.

A: Who's doing the lecturing now? I was only making a

prediction. I wasn't saying other people ought to do what they could to kill off Draft Boards, even if that was what I felt to be true.

Q: I have to say Michael, when I talk to you, I get the scary feeling you really might be guilty. This is getting past

needing to ask you.

A: If that's still a scary notion to you, I feel like we haven't made much progress. I guess it's only been a few days since you got back. I would have expected you to move along a little quicker.

Q: Towards agreeing with you that these murders were right?

A: That's really not for me to tell you, and I wouldn't presume to do so. You just don't give the impression of having learned much yet. I'd have thought you'd take better advantage of these circumstances, that's all.

Q: If you've got to judge me, then give me more of a chance. I'm trying to keep an open mind about this, but it's pretty confusing. I'm doing everything I can to make some sense of what's happened, believe me. I'm not wasting my time here, or at least it doesn't feel that way.

A: Then come back sometime and we'll talk further. I'm not going anyplace.