Issue 40 | The Sun Magazine

December 1978

Readers Write


(Part One)

Bill Mazeroski, Roberto Clemente, Bert Jones

By Our Readers
Sy Safransky's Notebook

December 1978


Anchors raised, we were a free people journeying into our own living flesh, and consciousness striving to know itself: political freedom; economic freedom; sexual freedom; artistic freedom. The freedom to abuse freedom. To enslave, and to set free. To become President, and to bear arms: to lean a rifle on a window sill, take aim, squeeze the trigger, and hurl a tiny speck of our own dark heart into the tissue of another. All for the sake of freedom — the greatest burden, the greatest joy.

By Sy Safransky


Sport is where an entire life can be compressed into a few hours, where the emotions of a lifetime can be felt on an acre or two of ground, where a person can suffer and die and rise again on six miles of trails through a New York City park. Sport is a theater where sinner can turn saint and a common man become an uncommon hero, where the past and future can fuse with the present. Sport is singularly able to give us peak experiences where we feel completely one with the world and transcend all conflicts as we finally become our own potential.

George A. Sheehan

Essays, Memoirs, & True Stories

Angel At The Gate

In the year I was sixteen, on the first day of that new year, my father died, and since that time I have longed hopelessly for a paradise that will never return.

By David M. Guy
Essays, Memoirs, & True Stories

Goodbye, Farmers

The money saved by corporations from producing food on cheap foreign lands, with cheap labor, and with pesticides banned for use in this country, is not passed along to the consumer. It simply serves to increase the profits of the corporations.

By Cary Fowler
Essays, Memoirs, & True Stories

Chapel Hill

Healing Festival

Wholistic health, I believe, not only should embrace ancient traditional methods of healing but also modern technological methods which exhibit the potential for openness.

By Jeffery Beame
Essays, Memoirs, & True Stories

Color Healing

When I do color therapy with people, the person becomes the screen. The color is moving onto and through them. You look into the beam as it comes from the projector, just long enough to get into your consciousness what it is. Then you can let the feel and the image you have of that color be going through you as you quietly meditate or do a mantra or whatever.

By Eilene Bisgrove
Essays, Memoirs, & True Stories

Pity: A Lesson In Self-Discovery

I have read that within the veneer of each heart a limp fist of pity is hanging. That is, in all the sadness and confusion of its tangle of veins the heart is the package in which pity is stored, the container in which it is marketed. One might say: I’d like two loaves of bread, a half-pound of bologna, a pint of macaroni salad, and a heart and a half of pity, please.

By Frank Graziano

The Horseman Of Marrakech

I rubbed my eyes to clear my vision. I looked closely once again to make sure. I could barely see the tall shape prancing in and out of the traffic. I squinted through the haze and then knew I was seeing what I thought I was seeing. “Yes,” I said to myself, “he thinks he’s a horse.”

By Richard Heckler

Vision In Black

And cope. I was to hear that again and again. It was multi-faceted, that word. It meant endurance, it expressed discipline — a psychological gymnastics involving stretching, reaching, bending, stooping, doing whatever was necessary to maintain the standards.

By Misty Hasman

Mirror Of Mind

Take a look inside yourself and see that there really is no self, unless you create this idea conceptually. Mind is infinite, boundless, and without form. Concepts are form. You can never figure out Mind through concepts because this is trying to limit the limitless. . . .

By Russell McDougal