I saw my file when I was 18. Or at least an FBI agent held up a file that was a half inch thick and told that it was "my file." He suggested that I go to "work" for them, by reporting who came to our monthly folksinging sessions,and who sang what songs. I thought his offer over for several seconds and declined. Instead, I went into the Army. This was in Seattle in the mid fifties ... what red scare? Bob