As the days of my LDS mission wound down in April 1975, I started thinking about my future. It seemed a good idea, given that most of the authority figures throughout my life suggested I probably didn’t have one.
But there was the possibility that they were wrong. I was closing in on an incredible run of luck — two years without being fired, arrested, suspended, expelled, shot or even yelled at all that much. That left me having to consider the future.
What was I going to do with myself when we...
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