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The Sun Magazine

Editor's Note

Editor's Note

We drive past field after field of withered corn on the way to the beach, the small farms in this poor part of the state even poorer now, the farmers cursing the weather, their luck, the Mother’s dry, uncaring touch, and the banks, and the son who left for the city, and the dreams of getting out of debt, shot down like that Korean plane — and who’s to blame?

Editor's Note

Fighting

I tell my friends world peace depends on my taking karate. I laugh when I say it — not just because it sounds preposterous, but to cover my embarrassment that I’m studying a martial art, and such an aggressive one at that. My friends might say this is out of character, for I’m a gentle man. But my good friends know my gentleness is at times genuine and at other times a cosmetic, high color on the cheeks of fear.