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=REBELCo-EditorsPaul F. CallawayJohn R. ReynoldsBusiness Manager ............ Skip HuffCo-ordinating Editor ....... Beverly JonesArt and Design Editor ......... Rad BaileyCopy EditorPorty Caner... .:meviews EGiier............Chief PhotographerAdvertising ManagerExchange and SubscriptionsFranceine PerryCharles GriffinJudy CogginsWalter QuadePreston Pipkinror. Patience CollieTypist and CorrespondenceEll Cathy NorfleetSa Keith ParrishJane CunninghamAnn Louise MorrisKathryn CampbellRod KetnerDudley HackneyTommy RobinsonSteve HubbardCharles DennyLynn AyersJohn ShermanJohn FultonOvid Williams PiercePublicity DirectorCo-ordinating StaffAdvisorO00 8 OO DS CS SSThe Rebel is a student publication of EastCarolina University. Offices are located onthe campus at 215 Wright Annex. Inquiriesand contributions should be directed to P. O.Box 2486, East Carolina University Station,Greenville, North Carolina 27834.PRINTED BY THE GRAPHIC PRESS, INC., RALEIGH, N. C. 27603no="�,�en CVsO VS 02 0WContributorsFreida White Purvis, a resident of Ahoskie,N. C., a former assistant-to-editor of TheRebel and a former editor of The East Caro-linian, provides us with an excellent shortstory in this issue of The Rebel.Featured poet for the fall issue of TheRebel is Claire ~Pittman. Mrs. Pittman iscurrently an instructor in the History Depart-ment.In the concluding pages of the fall issuewill be found the work of Preston Pipkin,advertising manager for The Rebel.The Rebel is fortunate to have among itspoetry contributors Dr. Frederick Sorensenof the English Department.Robert McDowell, a junior English major,and Linda Faye Bryant, a sophomore Soci-ology major, contribute their poetry for asecond time to The Rebel.Making their first contribution of poetryin this issue are Linda Texter, Steve Hubbard,and Archie Gaster.Contributing photography for this issue ofThe Rebel are Skip Wamsley, Charles Mock,Robert McDowell, Charles Griffin, WalterQuade and Scott Tabor.

Page 26Contentsuntitledletters to the editorconsciencechanning phillipspoetryhigh timephotoessayc. d. stoutvietnam! vietnam!the aspirin agethe sourcealiceTs restaurantuntitleduntitledlet valor end my dayskin to mountainswhose fault?anaximanderbird on my fencesix footuntitleduntitleduntitled1 take a walk1 hunger to (0)save yourselfuntitled3+6-111620a31323940linda faye bryantple. jmclaire pittmanfreida white purvispfc, bm], krp, ter, jccjohn fulton.judy cogginsjudy cogginsjrrrobert mcdowelllinda m. texterf. sorensenf. sorensenf. sorensenf. sorensensteve hubbardsteve hubbardarchie gasterarchie gasterarchie gasterlinda faye bryantlinda faye bryantlinda faye bryantsteve hubbard

_ Sparrows, jays, mockersflying cross the theatre stage"ha! little clowns"| or kids maybe"so full of life"so infused with the autumn sun"warm and mellow.fags, dentyne wrapper, plastic straw, and paper cupin the cement aisle"sticks, acorns, leaves of holly, beech, and oak"crackly, curled, and browna black ant zigzags over its littered, massive worldandi...| watch and love andstuff this pregnant moment| in the memory ofmy mind.linda faye bryant

June 12, 1968To the editors and staff of The Rebel:Having just completed your last attempt at literary anonymity, I feelthat you must be congratulated on having achieved the finite limit ofamorphously structured literature; finer works than yours lie rotting inmy wastebasket.Encouragingly yours,Richard BleusangEditor of The DelverGreenlake CollegeClocksburg, IllinoisTO EVERYONE THAT IS CONCERNED:Ya'll have done a good job on The Rebel in the past. And one reason isbecause you were up there in Old Austin and didnTt have anybody but meto bother, and anybody but me to bother you. Well, and now that you aredown there on campus, smack in the middle of everything, you know whyit is that I preferred to maintain my existence in Old Austin. You see OldAustin was not just a tradition, but perhaps the last stronghold of a fleet-ing tradition"where people spoke in quiet voices, loved in a thousandsmall ways, and were never too busy, or too crowded to take time out tomake a smile or understand another person. I enjoyed the cookies andmilk at night.But down there in Wright youTve got a lot to put up with, and it is notthe place for me to be, by any means. I only hope the people that willnever understand what it is to be intransient, to live in the quick glimpseof a passing sensation, so mute and so abstract, so indefinite that, well, itis lost to most everyone. I only hope that those people will be a littlesympathetic with The Rebel and try to understand what it is like for some-thing, anything, to exist in a foreign land.But if I wish you any wish for this year, I will wish you a speedy exodus.I really wish that you could return to the promised land. But one can neverregain the glory of the positive hour, I suppose. And time and prisons, somuch alike, are usually created by man for his own personal use.Shucks,Hulk,Buenos Aires, ArgentinaSeptember 13, 1968To the editor:Last yearTs series of The Rebel magazine was fantastic; keep up the highquality of your tremendous mag. Beware, however, of the excessive numberof enclitic words which your authors use, for these debased words reduce~ the precision of careful writing. Otherwise, your creative efforts are fab!un, Yours truly,i taky Godfrey Bentzfae Charlotte, N. C.save youl.untitled

May 24, 1968To the editor:You and your cohorts must really have used a lot of Ben FranklinTsmidnight oil writing this yearTs Rebel. It is undoubtedly one of the bestuniversity magazines in the United States. Where you got the time awayfrom your studies to produce such timeless works, I do not know.Have a good summer; your overworked encephalons surely need the rest.Yours praisingly,John TrawlsU.S.C.G.C. Cape Clearec/o PostmasterPerth, AustraliaSeptember 23, 1968Rebel Staff:: I just discovered your publication, The Rebel, the other day in theperiodicals room of Valparaiso UniversityTs library. My othank yous� for areally dynamic, speaking ~magazine.TIs The Rebel circulation confined to students and faculty of East Caro-lina University? Do you have any subscription program offered? I wouldreally like to receive your editions for this school year"if the quality i8still comparable to Fall/Volume One, 1967.Thank you,Shauna HaugenEditorial policy: The Rebel welcomes all letters and manuscripts. Theletters and manuscripts should be typed, double-spaced, and signed by theauthor. Letters should not exceed 500 words. Manuscripts running notlonger than 1500-2000 words will be more desirable for publication, dueto the format of the magazine. All manuscripts submitted for publicationwill be returned to the author. (Manuscripts recewed in the mail shouldinclude a self-addressed envelope, postage paid.) The Rebel reserves theright to edit or change in any way all letters and manuscripts submittedfor publication.The views expressed in The Rebel solely reflect the views of the studentwriters and the editors of The Rebel. They do not necessarily reflect thepolicies of East Carolina Unwersity.

EDITORIAL...CONSCIENCEIn this issue of The Rebel we are dealing withyoung people and young ideas. We are dealingwith the war in Vietnam and with the whole warethos in this country, and how it effects us.Our featured interview is with the Rev. ChanningE. Phillips, the first black man ever to be nomi-nated by a major political party for the office ofpresident of the United States. We spent the majorpart of one afternoon talking with him about thewar in Vietnam, about politics, and about youth.That evening when we returned to Raleigh-Durham Airport and were filing out of the plane,we overheard a man say to a stewardess, oWouldyou ask the people in front to move aside so thatI can get outside with this flag? I have a bodyout there to give it to.�The man was an officer in the United StatesArmed Forces.When we were outside the plane, we paused towatch the officer in the discharge of his duty. Asmall baggage cart rolled up to the rear of theplane. A wooden coffin slid from a baggage com-partment. It was placed on the cart. Then theofficer gave his flag away. |In this country, owar� has become a dirty word.Yet, none of us with all the good will in the worldmay stop it. We tend to forget that a whole worldis involved with war and no nation holds a copy-right on death and destruction. If children die inVietnam, then children also die in Biafra, Indo-nesia, Korea, Central America, Czechoslovakia,and the United States.The fault lies with the older generation. Ourpredecessors, and theirs before them unto the firstgeneration. But for the present moment, a portionof one generation with the dissenters from anolder generation have said, oNo.�At East Carolina University we have seen themeeting of these two ways of feeling. Perhaps ittook the stand of one individual to focus our at-tention on the issue. Carl Duncan Stout refusedinduction into the United States Armed Services.He was convicted October 28 and sentenced tofive years in a federal prison.We received a letter from a friend stationed inVietnam inquiring about StoutTs trial, and hopingthat he would be acquitted.An ex-Marine sat quietly beside a hippie in apeace vigil held in conjunction with the trial.Some students carried signs protesting the vigil.In huge letters near the site of the peace vigil wasthe word oCONSCIENCE.�We are young and we are caught up in thelife-flow of what is America. We are searching forall the answers; for an equation for freedom andunderstanding for all men, for love of a child wehave not seen.In the spting issue of last year we raised thequestion of what we will use freedom for. Andthis fall we seem to be answering that questionwith all kinds of commitments. In this issue wehave looked at what conscience is. We have ex-amined what it is to be young and what it is toquestion. A man must decide to close his eyes oropen them. Once his eyes are opened he cannotresist the questions that are raised in his mind.When we have heard all the songs and sadnessand we have listened and watched, then we mustconclude that life begins with a question.

Channing Phillips is the first black manever to be nominated by either major politicalparty to the presidency. He received 6714votes for his nomination at the DemocraticNational Convention.He is the pastor of Lincoln Temple UnitedChurch of Christ in Washington, D. C.He is executive president of Housing De-velopment Corporation, which is a privateenterprise concerned with building housesfor low income groups.He is described as ~~one of the new Negroleaders, militant, fiercely engaged.TT And hesays, o| am more interested in workingthrough the system, making representativedemocracy work.�THO="==39 (05=5352D50

interviewAn article in the New York Times, August30, described you as one of the ~~new Negroleaders, militant, fiercely engaged . . . butwilling to give the Democratic process onemore chance.�T What do you think about this?| believe | said o~Democratic Party;�T theymay have misquoted me. This was taken inthe context of the convention when we wereseeing the liberal interest prevented beyondany chances . . . But, there was somethingthat was taking place at the Democratic Partyconvention that was less dramatic than whatwas conveyed by the news media"reformssuch as abolition of unit rule, and otherthings.Was Humphrey a part of the establish-ment at the convention? What role, how muchof a role, did he play in the preventing of thisliberal force within the convention?He was very much a part of the machine.He was a large part of it. His role in the con-vention suggests that he was operating andrelying on the establishment for his votes...thatTs how his nomination came about.Political analysts have suggested that or-ganizations like the Southern Christian Lea-dership Conference, and the Student Non-Violent Coordinating Committee had difficultyin oturning the black man onT for HubertHumphrey and the Democratic Party in gen-eral, especially in the South. Do you agree?No, | donTt agree at all. | really doubtthat. The black community has always beenthe biggest solid support for the Democraticparty.Do you think McCarthyTs endorsement ofHumphrey in the last round before the elec-tion had any effect upon the election?The people who followed McCarthy werenot really hero-worshippers, but were peoplewho were dedicated to certain principles.And many people were affronted by Mc-CarthyTs recent actions.What do you think is the cause of all thestudent unrest, and the violence, and theriots in our cities and on our campuses? Andwhat do you think politics has to offer to this?Neither of the parties seem to pay any atten-tion to this protest.But this is where | think there is a greatdifference in the Democratic party and theRepublican party . . . There is a lot of talkgoing on about the law and order issue, and| donTt even want to give validity to that argu-ment by discussing it. Any public official isgoing to be concerned about law and order.And every public official has a responsibilityto law and order. But we are dealing withsome pretty basic social problems; that is theroot of the whole problem. The Republicanswant to leave everything to private enterpriseand there are certain things that the eco-nomic approach can produce. But any partythat is going to stabilize this country is goingto have to be concerned with socializing, toenlist this particular kind of resource andinitiative. And | think the Democratic Partyhas been concerned with doing this " re-luctantly.We hear so much about o~the war againstthe young,� and so many people seem to beturned off by what young people are trying todo, and about their involvement. What do youthink about this?Youth is always far-out with its idealism.That is the joy of being young. It should belooked on as an asset rather than a liability.However, we feel there should be channelsso that their concern can be worked into con-structive efforts rather than destructive ef-forts. Again, | think the ideas that come fromyouth need to be tempered by people thathave gone through the same thing. They cer-tainly should be welcomed, however. | thinkthey have a lot to offer.So many people seem to have droppedout of politics, become disenchanted with thesystem, after the assassination of BobbyKennedy. What do you think will be the re-sults?D Naar aa ee

The initial and expected action was thatpeople would draw back from the system...but many people are back now working tochange the system along the ideals that Bob-by Kennedy would have expected. You see,the Kennedys were a machine, too, but theywere committed to different, humanitarianideals. Also, they were not afraid of usingpower to achieve these ideals. Politics islargely what you use power for. This willing-ness on the part of the Kennedys is why thecharge of o~ruthlessTT got attached to BobbyKennedy so frequently.Where does Hubert Humphrey fit in?Humphrey is not constitutionally a part ofthat hard core establishment. He has con-sistently been a reformer. But at the presenthe is hung up with these loyalties.We were all turned off by the conventionand we wrote a letter of protest to JohnOTBrien, Democratic National Committeechairman. We got a letter back from Vice-President Humphrey requesting us to investi-gate and study the advisability of changingconvention procedures"in order to insureopen convention, free discussion, and logicaland orderly procedures.Why did Humphrey, if he has consistentlybeen a reformer and a liberal, not modify hisstand on Vietnam and other issues after hecaptured the nomination?When we arrived at the convention we gotword that Johnson had 1612 votes in hiscoat pocket, that were pledged to Johnson,which meant he could have walked in theconvention and been nominated. This madeHumphrey, who is cautious by nature, to beeven more cautious. We had a minority Viet-nam plank that everyone, including Hum-phrey, supported at one time. Johnsonsquashed it.You weigh the strength of the McCarthy,Kennedy peace people, and their efforts be-ing scuttled by the more conservative ele-ment. And you get all this antagonism. Sowhat you end up doing is trying to find somedelicate balance to go between them.You describe yourself as a member of theNew Politics. What do you mean by that?New politics only in the sense that we areworking against the establishment and for re-form. New politics is marked by a real zealfor reform, real appreciation for opennessand dialogue, and an emphasis on programsaimed at social justice . . . We are far moreconcerned with working through representa-tive democracy than trying to recapture anAthenian-type democracy, which many peo-ple in the New Politics seem to be workingfor.What do you say to all the young peoplewho are tired of trying the system, who areniesaying for themselves they can no longer goalong with certain things? The young peoplewho are refusing induction into the ArmedServices, and the young people who are ad-vocating Black Power?| donTt tell them anything. You donTt putan old head on young shoulders. It is a matterof fighting for, and believing that time is nec-essary for change. And you donTt know howto transmit this to them. Perhaps a study oftheology and history to better understandwhat kind of an animal man is would be good.How do you interpret the liberal elementTsflexing its muscles in the Democratic conven-tion? Has there been any progress towardgetting out of Vietnam?

| interpret it as a victory of everythingthat has gone on since 1965. The immediateresults of dissent were escalation of the warby Johnson. But in terms of long-range re-sults, the sentiment in this country is againstthe war. Either presidential candidate wouldhave had to move quickly to end the war inVietnam and the means for doing that isalready set up.After HumphreyTs loss, do you think theliberal element in the party will reshape forthe 1972 election?| have been continually involved with theDemocratic party and | believe there is asurprising number of people who are deter-mined to effect reform"to open up the chan-nels, and accomplish reform"any society wedevelop is going to have to work throughinstitutions. There are only two ways, really,of accomplishing reform. One is workingthrough the system and the other is revolu-tion. And | havenTt heard anyone talking se-riously about revolution. You know the Re-publicans had a chance to reform their partyafter Goldwater in 1964. And what did theydo? They didnTt choose a Rockefeller or aLindsay; they chose Nixon.Many people have called the Great Societya flop. Jesse Unruh said the facts were thatwe have escalated the war and we have notput an end to poverty. What do you thinkabout that?Obviously the Great Society has not beenaccomplished. But significant things haveoccurred. Certain programs"poverty pro-grams have serious potential. But just forexample, the Headstart program, which hashad so much success, just missed goingdown the drain by one vote in the Senate.With the proper funding and administration,these programs can produce some answersand some results. But | am not talking aboutjust demonstration programs, or token pro-grams.Why do you think students are gettinginvolved?As some people have suggested, | donTtthink theyTve been an injection of adrenalininto the two political parties, but into thewhole system, as an indirect kind of thing.10| am sure we are all becoming increasinglydisturbed over the war in Vietnam and thewar ethos in this country. That particular ap-proach in philosophy was making in-roads in-to their own lives"that the state was makingit difficult for them to pursue their own lives.People are being dramatically affected inthis country. They know of some of thehorrors that are going on on foreign soil un-der the American banner of good will. Andit has forced them to look.The defense budget drains funds fromother areas of need. And we have increasingunrest in the city because our needs haveoutpaced our ability to get the needs met"and this is due largely to the fact that ourenergies have been focused elsewhere. Theysee all this. There are all sorts of complexreasons why young people are becoming in-volved.What do you think about the way thenews media has portrayed the Americanyouth, especially after the Democratic con-vention?| donTt find that students everywhere arebeing turned off, as the media has suggested.As a matter of fact, they are committed andthey are working. They are looking, and aredeeply concerned about the responsible thingto do.Do you think we can do anymore than weare doing about getting out of Vietnam?Oh, yes. | have said all along that weshould follow the proposals of Senator GeorgeMcGovern"immediate end in the bombing;phased withdrawal of U. S. troops . . . whenTruman sent troops to support the Frenchafter World War II, and at the same time HoChi Minh and the North Vietnamese were get-ting up a government, with the preamble oftheir constitution exactly the same as ourDeclaration of Independence . . . when Tru-man was asked about this, he replied that theVietnamese were not ready for independence.Well, thatTs just the same thing weTve beenhearing all along in this country, and you candisguise it as all sorts of things, but what itboils down to is racism.PFC, JRR

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October DuskLight flutters through October skiesLike golden finches flying through the trees,Like amber leaves in autumn swirling through the dusk,Like summer-yellow butterflies over copper fields;Then suddenly bright yellow, dark amber, brilliant gold,Are caught on wild, dark winter windsBlowing sharp and cold.We are most afraid when birds have flownAnd we are here alone to watch the night come in.12Ll yg the wiredAntique gold,Flash of red,Who believed meWhen | saidBeauty cannot last?Mellow ochre,Russett brown,Molten gloryFalling downLost along the wind.

;zwry a... ERIS PPT SSret *stitialta .*fe aa|. see my-face " |=. in a dark riverflowing| hear my voicein a.wild wind blowing: ~| and the faces of those who have gone beforeoand the voices of those who are no moredeep in the forest a child is cryingdeep in my heart a love is dying

oiee:ae._ and a free.wj 3 . éae .Poe 3 oethere is only this;a firefly,a pine tree, . eaand brackish water eating away -the sand; " ethe smell of honeysuckle3 eo 2 ee & s.14

OCTOBER, I3 1965It does not matter now that(in his favorite month)the dogwood stands scarlet in the wood,each leaf patterned in perfection(as if molded in ceramics class,glazed, baked in the sun)or that gold spangles in the maple trees(and children, laughing, runthrough fallen leaves as they did yesterday)or that the haunting cries of wild duckscrack against the skyor that we loved him alwaysyou and |and all those grand and glorious wordsthat the preacher readdo not matterheisdeadA Symphony Of SorrowThe wind weepsAnd we weep with the wind;Our tears mingleWith the tears of the wind: the rain,That thrums a symphony of sorrowAgainst my window,We are lonelyAs the wind is lonely.We know a special sorrowLate on spring-sweet April nightsWhen cherry blossoms filterThrough the silver fingersOf the rain.We know a throbbing pain,Heart-deep, when thunder roarsAlong the heat of summer afternoonsAnd water washes down the dusty sky.We give a sudden cryIn late OctoberWhen a blind and bitter windSweeps down from the dark mountains.We understand:The windCannot blow awayOur sorrow;And the rainCannot wash awayOur pain.

FICTIONHigh TimeJoshua Daniels was getting ready to leave forthe furniture store when he got the call. It waseight o'clock, and the early autumn Saturdaymorning was dusty warm with the promise of abeautiful day.oHello, Josh?�oYeah.� Josh was not notably pleasant in themorning.oSheriff Mason. Got one for you. Nigger young-un, two years old. James Whitley called me Tboutit. His tenantTs chile. Looks funny to me. Young-unTs eyes look like they been poked out. ITm callinTthe store down here at JacksonTs Cross. Tenanthouse is "bout a mile from here.�oAlright, Mason. I'll meet you at the store intwenty minutes.� Joshua pushed down the smallblack button on the phone, released it, and dialedthe furniture store. His assistant manager answer-ed. oBill? Mr. Daniels. Got a coronerTs call downat JacksonTs Crossroads. ProbTly wonTt be in thismorning. Hell, itTs Saturday. I wonTt be in all day.�Josh stared fixedly at a hazy yellow chrysanthe-mum in the flower print over the phone table andnodded into the receiver as he listened. oRight.See you Monday morning.� Josh put down thereceiver and tore his gaze away from the yellowchrysanthemum in the picture that had been afavorite of his wifeTs. He ran a hand through histhinning gray hair, cursed his part-time coronerTsjob, and walked out of the house.The September scenes on either side of thehighway were as familiar to Josh as the yellowflower in his own hall. He was hardly aware ofanything all the way to JacksonTs Crossroads. HedidnTt have to be. Josh already knew how dustbillowed, blotting out the machine and the manon it who was ripping peanuts from earth thathadnTt felt the cool, soaking goodness of rain intwo months. He knew how the Negro men andwomen called back and forth and joked andlaughed and sang sad songs while they stackedthe peanuts around tall poles in another field, andhow the dry, hard clods of dirt crumbled beneaththe lighter soles of bare black feet, tough like thefeet of animals from years of walking barefoot onrough wooden floors and rocky paths, and dry,16by frieda white purvis

ahard clods of dirt as well as through mud that wasankle deep sometimes. Josh knew these things. Heknew how combines grabbed up ripe ears of cornand left the stubbles of stalks poking up from flatfields like a three-day beard. Josh hadnTt beenliving in Drayton County for sixty-nine years fornothing. He knew his part of the county well.When Josh arrived at the Crossroads, SheriffMason was sitting leaned up against the unpaint-ed country store in a slat-backed chair. The round,red-faced man didnTt move until Josh parked hispickup and got out and walked past the Texacogas pumps and the hand-lettered sign that said,in shaky letters, o$1.50 GAS FOR EVERY SIL-VER DOLLAR.� Just when Josh got up even withthe tin Stanback sign, Mason abruptly loweredthe front two legs of the chair to the grease-stainedground and sprang from his seat in a motionstartling for such a heavy man.oWe'll take my car, Josh. LetTs go.� The twomen, one short and plump, the other as tall andnarrow and hard-looking as one of the peanutpoles in the field across the way, climbed into thetan Ford with the blue light on top. Mason talked.oIT already been out there. There was eightyounguns in the fambly. The folksTs both twenty-eight, they say. Been married eight years. Thislittle one whatTs dead was sleepinT in the bed withfive others last night"just a four-room house"but when Lucy"thatTs the womanTs name, LucyBrown"when Lucy got up this morninT, the chilewas lyinT up against the wall on the floor in thefront room. Dead. The niggers ain~t touched herwhen I got there. Lucy said her man wouldnTtlet her move the chile. ItTs still lyinT up againstthat wall. Eyes gone. Slam gone.� Sheriff Masonstopped in a flurry of dust on the edge of the dirtroad. Josh saw a typical-looking tenant house onthe right. It was small, dilapidated, and had neverbeen painted. One corner of the little porch hungnearly to the ground, a cinder block holding itup. The yard was dirt, with the roots of one bigelm sticking out all over. A half-dozen or so dustyblack children were visible in the edge of a pinethicket behind the house. There was an outhouseback there, too.The two white men stretched their legs acrossthe ditch and finally stepped gingerly on therotten porch. Mason knocked lightly on the rippedand rusted screen door. Looking inside, Josh coulddimly make out a white mound against the wallon the other side of the room. A young, slim Negrowoman moved easily from the back of the house.She held a baby on one hip, and buttoned the topof her faded cotton dress as she walked the few17feet across the room. She didnTt speak as sheopened the door.oLucy, this hereTs Joshua Daniels, the countycoroner. Josh, this hereTs Lucy Brown.� Lucy nod-ed faintly and murmured. The baby regarded themen seriously with round, black button eyes.oSit, wonTt you?� Lucy indicated a pine pew,cast off in the remodeling of some country churchnearby. She took an armless rocker across fromthe pew and sat the baby on the bare floor at herfeet. Settling, she folded her hands in her lap andfixed her eyes first on Mason, then on Josh. Joshtook out his VC fertilizer notebook and Baker In-surance Agency ballpoint pen.oNow, Lucy, ITm real sorry to have to questionyou, but itTs got to be done. STpose you just tellme what you can.�The light falling through a dirt-streaked windowplayed murkily on the long, slim hands of theNegro woman as they worked in her lap.oAllTs I know is Elsie Lou war fine when I puther to bed lasT night, anT when I gets up dis mor-oragged cavernsgaped... �nen to go to de fields, she war lyen dere on de floTlike dat.� LueyTs eyes rolled toward the littlemound against the wall. oShe dinTt say nuthen oreven move whens [ hollered at her to get up offTndat floT. Den I looks closter anT I seen her eyeslike dat.� Lucy closed her own eyes for a minute,remembering, Josh guessed. oSo I call George, anThe went anT call Mustah Whutley.� The busyhands quieted when the throaty voice did.oGeorge is your husband?� Josh was makingnotes on the light blue lines in the little pad inhis hand.oVassah�oWhatTs his full name?�oGeorge Washington Brown, suh.�Josh slipped his pad and pen into his shirtpocket, got up and walked over to the sheet-covered body. He picked up one edge of the sheetand pulled the cloth back from the body of thechild. Josh had worked in a funeral home fornearly thirty years before taking this coronerTsposition, and heTd been coroner for four years, buthe had seen few worse-looking sights than this.

The small black child lay curled on the floor,clothed only in a filthy diaper and undershirt. Shemight have been asleep, except that where closedeyelids should have been, ragged caverns gapedinstead. In the inside corner of the right eye wasa small, perfectly round hole, exactly the rightsize for a twenty-two bullet. But Josh was prettysure it wasnTt a bullet hole. When he kneeled downfor a closer look, holding his breath against thesmell of dirty diapers and death and just dirt, henoticed the tiny, fine scratches across the bridgeof the flat nose. There were three of them. Joshwas pretty sure how they got there, but he wantedsomebody else to say it.He took the body to Chapel Hill himself. ThestateTs coroner there told him he was right"rats.Rats had taken Elsie LouTs eyes and had left threetiny scratches and a perfectly round hole. But therats didnTt kill Elsie Lou. Elsie Lou had been deada while. when the rats found her up against thatwall. The stateTs coroner thought from his prelimi-nary autopsy that Elsie Lou had died from somekind of poison. Josh would get a full report Thurs-day. Five days to wait.Sunday afternoon when Josh drove up to thetenant house where Elsie Lou had died, maybefrom poisoning, Lucy was sitting in the same arm-less rocker she had occupied the day before, butthe chair had been placed outside in the dustunder the elm tree. The baby sat listlessly inLucyTs meager lap, and next to Lucy a tremendouscolored woman in a pink checkered gingham dressand wide-brimmed navy straw hat was imposingon a rickety little folding chair of early funeralhome vintage. The fat woman heaved herself toher feet as Josh approached.oTTs shoT is sorrowed obout liTl Elsie. TfTn I canholp you wid de chirrun or somepin, jes let meknow. I jes leave dis heah olT cheer I brung, LucyBrown. You be needen it, what wid fokes vis-tenanT all.� She talked carefully around a wad ofsnuff, tilting her head back slightly against thepossibility of loosing a drop of the juice.oMuch obliged, Queen Esther,� Lucy said, re-adjusting the baby on her lap. Josh sat down inthe rickety chair Queen Esther had left. Hewatched the colored woman shuffle away downthe dirt road, the wide expanse of pink checkeredgingham straining across her fleshy buttocks atevery move. A fine powder of dust rose around herfeet. When she paused by a clump of goldenrodon the ditchbank to spit and Josh couldnTt hearthe brown tobacco juice hit the ground, he turnedto Lucy.oLucy, have you ever seen rats in your house?�18oJosh told thevoice to go toheioYassah.� Lucy looked at him, but offered nofurther information.oHave you ever tried to get rid of those rats,Lucy?�oNawsah.�oYou ainTt never put out no rat poison?�oNawsah. I ainTt nevah put out no pizen. ITsskeered to. DeyTs allas a baby crawlen Tround deplace. I war a-feared lest dayTd git it. Elsie LouwarnTt quite right, neither. She ainTt nevah learnthow to walk. She got into mosT evahthin dat wasnear de floT.� Lucy sighed deeply, exhausted fromher unaccustomed long speech.Josh, not quite knowing why, took Lucy Brownat her word. He pursued another angle.oWhat did Elsie Lou have to eat Friday night?�oDat gov-mint oatmeal, sameTs alls usTn. TCeptshe anT Eugene heah"he de baby"dey had Cah-nation milk wid it stead oT water.�oYou mean the surplus oatmeal they give outin sacks?�"Yassan.�Josh asked more questions. He found out thatLucy had been at home all night Friday night.George had gone down to the oshop� after supperand returned about midnight, drunk. He was in-side drunk that Sunday afternoon, too. Josh gaveup and went home.The stateTs coroner called Josh at the furniturestore Thursday. His guess about the poisoning hadbeen wrong. He said tests showed that Elsie Louhad died from pneumonia and a blood disease hecalled osickle cells.� Sickle cell anemia, he toldJosh, is usually found only in Negroes. The diseasehad something to do with the red blood cells be-

tecoming shaped like sickles instead of round likethey were supposed to be. When that happened,they couldnTt carry enough oxygen, best Joshcould understand. It was still the rats botheringJosh. Somebody had to do something.That afternoon Joshua Daniels called the Dray-ton County Welfare Department. He told thewoman who answered about Elsie Lou and herfamily and the rats. She said he should call thehealth department. He did. A woman answeredthere, too. Josh told her the story in detail.oYes, I see,� the woman said, oThat is a pity.Well, Mr. Daniels, we certainly thank you for call-ing us, but I declare we just donTt have a soul tosend out there right now. DonTt know when wewill. Sounds like youTve done a mighty fine jobof investigating this thing. Maybe you'd like to goon and follow it through yourself.� The voice onthe phone sounded as cheerful as a recording. Joshtold the voice to go to hell.19He sat down at his 1946-model typewriter andpecked out an angry letter to his Congressman.He told the Honorable exactly what Joshua Dan-iels thought of the way his tax money was beingspent. He said he thought it was high time forsomebody to do something about the situation athome, and high time for the government to stopspending so damn much money elsewhere. He toldthe Honorable that there were children in his owndistrict who were starving and being eaten byrats and that the welfare department and thehealth department were too busy to do anythingabout it. Wanted him to go. They were gettingpaid for that kind of work, not Joshua Daniels.As soon as he mailed the letter, Josh went home,took two Sominex, drank a glass of warm milk,and went to bed. It was 7:30 p.m. Out at Jack-sonTs Crossroads, Lucy Brown had just gotten infrom the fields. She was stirring up a pot of oat-meal for supper.

o...0Ur course is resolute,our conviction is firm...weShall not be diverted fromdoing what is necessary inthe cause of freedom.�President Johnson, June 1966

This is the year of sternness and steel,No more roses and no more smiles;We have no time to think or feel,For we must travel the painful miles,Far to a land where thousands die,Brave men locked in a vicious game;Far to a land where thousands lie,Unwept, unknown, looking the same;Looking the same in the steaming swamps,Felled by snipers they could not see;Looking the same draped in the flag,Striped and starred and flowing free.This is the year of steel and sternness,No more laughter and no more song;This is the year of tears and sadness,This is the year that all went wrong.Claire Pittman

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a7They Locked Him UpD. Stout...C.

interview.Carl, give us a brief background of your his-tory as a conscientious objector. Why andwhen did you start? How did you get whereyou are now?| was a student here. | had a 2-S (student)deferment with a 2-A (occupational defer-ment) impending. So | left school and took ajob in Washington. It took about a week aftergetting out of school before | got my in-duction papers.I'd always disliked the idea of the draft.As the heat increased, | thought more andmore about going to Canada. Then, just bytalking to people and reading things, | start-ed to think about the draft. Why? What didnTt| like about it? | guess | got this questioningattitude from Tolstoi. He said that it is notonly the Christians, but all ~~justTT people whomust refuse to be soldiers. | couldnTt under-stand what he was saying"about the ~~justTTpeople"because | thought it was only Quak-ers who were opposed to the war. Tolstoi saidyou had to have a religious feeling aboutthis. So this hung in my mind and | did a lotof thinking.Then | took my physical and | knew | wouldbe inducted within a month. | finally went tosee Dr. Harold Shirfer from the National Ser-vice Board.He explained the C-O (Conscientious Ob-28jector) Form 150 to me and showed me thatyou didnTt have to be solely religious to applyfor C-O classification. If you had any religiousbeliefs or training that did correspond withconscientious objection to military service,you could fill out the C-O Form 150 on thatbasis alone.| went ahead and applied for my C-O 150form and my draft board sent back a lettersaying that they would make no recommen:dation. | was going to be inducted as ordered.We appealed to the state director and thenational director, and postponed the induc-tion for a month and a half. It finally camedown to the fact that | would have to go forinduction"I wouldnTt get the C-O classifica-tion. So | went through all the formal pre-induction ceremonies and then refused tostep forward, thus formally saying that | re-fused. | was free to return home under theimpression that | would be indicted by agrand jury. About a month after that, theAlexandria Grand Jury indicted me. | was re-leased in their trust and under a ten-thous-and-dollar bond. Then | started thinking that| really didnTt care if | had to go to jail, butthat soon disappeared and | thought aboutgoing to Canada. | was living in Washingtonand | had access to information about goingto Canada.| went there for a month to look it overwith the serious intention of staying. Whenyou get up there, the attitude changes. YoudonTt feel yourself honoring your conscienceas much as you think youTre getting awayfrom a bum rap in the United States. And itTsa creepy feeling; you know thereTs a lack ofsincerity"that itTs really not a pure feeling.YouTre missing something or youTre not stick-ing with what your conscience says to theend.| say that if | went to Canada, ITd be honor-Ing my conscience and that was all that wasimportant. | could go back to school, get ajob, and become a Canadian. Here is a hang:up: it would be difficult being exiled. Andthen, there was another argument on theother side: if you wanted to press the issueof conscience, if you wanted to challenge it,a 9

then the only place to do that would be inthe United States of America " becausethatTs where you do have the right to doso"by law.This went through my mind and | got tothe point where | realized that living exiledin Canada was kind of a delusion. ItTs noteasy exile because youTre cutting off a hellof a lot of your life"twenty-one years of yourlife"by way of Canada. Even though itTs easyto accept, you dispel everything you knowbecause there you're under a different gov-ernment and living with different people.ThereTs even a different language, and a dif-ferent way of thinking.It is the law that | must go to jail, so I'lltake it straight and say to hell with it. To hellwith it. Sure, jails can be unpleasant at times.But the most important thing is why youTredoing it. Is it worth a damn? | think it is. |think that ITm getting to the point where justrefusing induction, going to jail, and payingthe price isnTt enough.ITve never demonstrated against the war.ITve never joined SDS (Students for a Demo-cratic Society) or any such groups. ITve neverbeen violent, nor have | ever been violentlyopposed to U. S. involvement in Vietnam. ITmjust opposed to war.Today people are thinking this way; ~~Ah,it's only two years, itTs American, and every-body does it. And if you donTt do it, youTreunpatriotic.�To me, patriotism is something that startsfrom the inside. Nobody owes the country athing. Really, when you get right down to it,you do not owe the United States one thing.However, if you believe in the country, youwill want to do whatever you can for it"butthis must come from inside. As for me, ITmstarting not to believe in the country as it is.But, | believe that it can be changed.What are you facing in prison?What do you expect?| expect a four or five year sentence, prob-ably a five year sentence. However, | will beavailable for parole after two years. | donTtknow too much about prison itself. | will justhave to play it by ear. | donTt really care aboutprison life other than the fact that itTs goingto be boring, upsetting, and unpleasant. Thefirst thing in my mind is to get the educationor understanding | need so when | get out |won't go around spitting on the United Statestrying to find work.Have you thought about the things youTregiving up? Girls, worldly pleasures,things like that?| try not to. ThatTs a bum_rap. ITm lucky.ITve got the frame of mind where | think ITmnot too involved. ITm not in love with any-body right now. | think | can do it a lot easierthan if | had a family.Are you afraid that going to jail mightmake you bitter or caustic?No, | take it in all seriousness, though ITmfar above all this. ThatTs my token.Could it have a conditioning effect on you?| donTt think it could at all. ITm going tohate every day of getting up and doing thecell march.After youTve been all through this, do youthink that it would have made you a moredisciplined person?Only in my own thinking. Only in develop-ing my own thoughts. ThatTs all | care for.In discipline, | think I'll always be free"thatTs the first thing in life.A couple of weeks ago you discussed whatyou could and could not do in prison. Whatabout letters, books, and typewriters?| think the number of letters one can re-ceive is unlimited. The number you can writeis severely limited. | think you can write fouror five letters a month of three pages each.You canTt sit there and write novels as youplease and you donTt have a typewriter. Itjust doesnTt exist because it is a prison. Youmarch and do things. There are a lot of small

jobs. ItTs going to be an experience of which| have no idea. ItTs like going to camp for thefirst time because ITm not one of the regularinmates. The feeling is like this.When you get out of prison, youTll still beunable to vote and there will be someamount of discrimination in jobs and hiring.ITm not worrying about it. I'll be able tovote for certain things and | wonTt be goinginto jobs that will discriminate against me.Some draft resistors have refused 1-A-Ostatus because they felt they were stillsupporting the war effort. Do you feelthis way?| was offered a 1-A-O and refused it on twogrounds. First of all | donTt like the idea ofbeing connotated as a religious objector. ITma C-O from reading and talking to people; itTsnot all religious. The second thing: if | werea 1-A-O perhaps | could take it and then do asthe military does. If after six months theyTdtell me to load bombs, ITd have to refuse andtake a court martial. When you take the mili-tary oath you say youTll do any damn thingthat youTre asked to do. You follow any ordersunless especially exempt from them. | donTtthink | can take that oath with my conscienceclear.Do you feel that accepting C-O status will bein some ways compromising with the draft?Sure it is! ThatTs why | have hesitationsand reservations about it.Do you feel that any kind of agreement otherthan complete resistance to the draft is acompromise?Sure. ThatTs a very clear thing. Unfor-tunately most people that resist are resistingon the grounds that the United States iswrong in Vietnam, that Ho Chi Minh is right.This isnTt conscience as much as a violentpolitical reaction. So, youTve got to be able todraw a fine line. As far as the draft goes, itTsreally out cf date; itTs really way too old.What if we win the war in Vietnam?Win the war? That doesnTt make a differ-ence to me. | kind of hope we lose the war inVietnam.Do you think the draft itself is wrong?30The war must be stopped first. Not nodraft today, though. We all talk about thevoluntary military service; maybe that willwork. | think itTs a Republican goal becauseitTs always issued by Republicans.Do you feel that this violation of the draftlaw is an effective stand against the draftor against the war in Vietnam?You see, ITm still a little o~me-centered.�T| donTt look upon this as doing somethinggood for the United States of America. Maybethere is some good. If | thought | was doingthis to make America a better place, it wouldnot be right because | donTt feel patriotic.When Thoreau went to jail for tax evasion,Emerson asked, o~Why are you here?�T Andhe answered, ~~Why arenTt you here?TT Doyou feel that way about other people; thatsomeone who is against the war in Vietnamshould be taking similar steps youTre taking?I'd like to see it but | wouldnTt say theyTdhave to because ITve only worked this in my-self. ItTs something you develop. For myself,I'd say go to jail. But | couldnTt say that toyou. You'd have to find it on your own. ITdsay look into it.Are they taking conscientious objectorsto a certain prison?Yes, | understand thatTs the way it goesItTs not guaranteed; thereTs no way of tellinfor sure.In Pennsylvania?Pennsylvania or Connecticut.Is it a prison or a prison camp?It's a camp.Where you'll be doing farming or somethingon that order?Yes ... itTs delightful!oO©Pro; BMJ ARP, TER, JCC

ZMEVIEVVS(VIETNAM! VIETNAM! by Felix Greene, PaloAlto: Fulton Publishing Co. 1966, 175 pp.)Vietnam is: a nation of tragedy, a nation ofsorrow, a nation oppressed and violated by theravages of imperialism; a people tortured into painby unthinking statesmen and barbarous soldiers.Inside a benign orange cover the author presentsthis case of Vietnam to the American people. Theauthor, a British citizen who has lived in Americamore than half his life, imparts to his readers theterror of this particular war. The torturing of Viet-namese while GITs stand by is pictured, as arenapalmed children and bombed nursery schools.Perhaps the inhumanity of this war would notbe so unacceptable were it not for the reasons ofAmericaTs intervention. Eisenhower, on August 4,1953, is quoted as describing the situation thisway:oNow let us assume that we lost Indochina . . .The tin and tungsten that we so greatly valuefrom that area would cease coming . . . So whenthe United States votes 400 million dollars tohelp that war, we are not voting a give-awayprogram. We are voting for the cheapest waythat we can to prevent the occurrence of some-thing that would be of a most terrible signifi-cance to the United States of America, our se-curity, our power and ability to get certainthings we need from the riches of the Indo-chinese territory and from Southeast Asia.�Insensibly, according to Mr. Greene, the U. S.is engaged in trying to keep the pieces of FrenchIndochina from falling into the communistsThands. In the first portion of the book, he pre-sents photographic evidence against a monolithic,communist-inspired attempt to subjugate theVietnamese. The real situation is that of a des-perate people seeking help in their struggle againstcolonial masters. His selection of photos elicitsempathy from the viewer; one sees a destitutepeople turn towards the socialist countries as theironly hope for support after the West turns away,disinterested. |In the second portion of the book, the author,31via the medium of well-written prose, describesstep by step the history of modern Vietnam fromcolony to battleground. Well documented, thewriting vividly portrays the Vietnamese people incombat against a foreign power from a vastlydifferent land onine thousand miles away.�The horror AmericaTs war has inflicted uponthe Vietnamese and the arrogant use of our powerseldom has been better presented than in thiswork. The total aim of the work was best describ-ed in the foreword:oNever before has the young manhood of Amer-ica been thrust into such a conflict or orderedto fight with methods that outrage both theformal provisions. of international law and themore general laws of our common humanity.�This book of stark photographs and concisehistory is a good statement of an aspect of theVietnam War that too many Americans prefer toignore. Vietnam! Vietnam! should be read.Photographs from the book are found on pages21-26.by John Fultonwith photographs by some oi the world'sDy FELIM GREEN!leading news-photographers

(The Aspirin Age, ed. Isabel Leighton. NewYork: Simon and Schuster, Inc., 491 pp. $2.45)The story of America between two world wars,from 1919 to 1941, a time of tension and chaos,interspersed with events which seemed to consti-tute one headache after another"this is the storyof the Aspirin Age.Isabel Leighton says in her preface: o. . . theUnited States of the twenties and thirties appears. as a strange, uncharted, and enchanted land;so many of the personalities and events that chal-lenged our imaginations during that time nowseem almost to have been part of a spell...hectic, frenzied, not always beneficent . . . castover the entire country. We seem to have fluct-uated between headaches: sometimes induced byprohibition, more frequently by the fevered paceof the times. During these throbbing years wesearched in vain for a cure-all, coming no closerto it than the aspirin bottle.�The Aspirin Age is a group of historical writingsbrought to life. The most famous and the most in-famous events of these two decades are revealedwith a great degree of perception by twenty-twoauthors who were close to the times and theevents. Novelist Wallace Stegner, for example,author of The Big Rock Candy Mountain and thecurrently popular All the Little Live Things, con-tributes the story of Father Charles E. Coughlin,oThe Radio Priest and His Flock.� This is a first-hand account of Coughlin, who, Stegner remem-bers, had oone of the great speaking voices of thetwentieth century. Warmed by the touch of Irishbrogue, it . . . was a voice made for promises.�Arthur Schlesinger, Jr., writes of the problemswhich were bequeathed to Franklin D. Rooseveltin oThe First Hundred Days of the New Deal,�and Charles Jackson (at the time a script writerfor CBS) transports us to the night of October 30,1938, oThe Night the Martians Came,� as he re-calls the panic which struck the entire nation asa result of Orson WellesT radio program about aninvasion from Mars.Dry, factual historical data is replaced by skill-ful interpretations of the tense, dramatic, demand-ing, and exciting events which comprised theAspirin Age.By Judy Coggins32=O UUREThe Source, by James Michener, is the story oftwelve thousand years of history of the Hebrewpeople. Michener accomplishes this seeminglyfantastic feat in one volume by telling stories con-cerning the artifacts uncovered by an archeologist,Dr. John Culline, and his crew. IntermittentlyMichener flashes back to the twentieth centuryto carry on his main story, which takes place atthe Tell of Makor, a osilent mound in the HolyLand.� The word oMakor� means osource� in theold Hebrew language, and it is from this wordthat Michener draws his beginnings, not only thebeginnings of the Hebrew people, but the begin-ning of mankind and his quest for the source ofall being. Throughout his history, man has soughta god. From manTs meager beginning in the cavesof the East, he has looked for a higher being. Hebegan out of fear, as Michener shows in his firstfamily, the family of Ur. Then, as manTs relation-ship to God matured, he became aware of thetranscendency of God. ManTs evolving ideas andquest for understanding are MichenerTs mainthemes, threaded through the centuries of history.Michener also deals with present-day problemsof the people of Israel. The threat of the Arabminority to the people of Israel; the family life ofthe kibbutz (collective farm), shown by theworkers in the crew who work on the mound; therelationship between Israel and the AmericanJews, shown by the interaction between the Amer-ican Jewish millionaire and the Jews of the kib-butz; the building of a new Jewish nation by theimportation of refugees to work on the Tell; andthe conflict between the old Jewish practices andthe new are skillfully and sympathetically pre-sented.The book, despite its length, is rewarding; itdoes convey to its reader a sense of wonder at theevolution of man and a fresh insight into his re-lationship with God and the eternal.By Judy Cogginsigi

(AliceTs Restaurant, by Arlo Guthrie. Reprise Re-cords, Burbank, California, RS-6267)Everyone is talking about AliceTs Restawrant"that is where you can get everything you want.At the Newport Folk Festival (July, 1967) ArloGuthrie, the son of Woody Guthrie, who is famousfor oThis Is Your Land� and other dustbowl bal-lads, walked right in, sat down, and began strum-ming his guitar and singing his song.The song is a one-stanza job composed by Guth-33rie, which is sung at the beginning and the end ofa 20-minute monologue, called the story of oTheAliceTs Restaurant Massacree.�When he first sang the song at the NewportFestival he sang for a small group of people on a_ Saturday afternoon. At present, the story of oTheAliceTs Restaurant Massacree� is being made intoa film to be released soon.It is a otrue� story: Guthrie was arrested forlittering garbage in 1965 in Stockbridge, Massa-chusetts. The story is about a young man who isvisiting these people who live in a church. He vol-unteers one morning to carry a truck-load of gar-bage, emptied from the downstairs of the church,out to the city dump. He is arrested for litteringbecause the dump was closed and he deposited thegarbage on the side of the hill where another pileof garbage was already forming.Because of his conviction in Stockbridge, whenhe goes to the U.S. Armed Forces induction centerhe is told that he is not morally fit to be draftedinto the Armed Services. He has previously ex-plained to them that he is most eager to kill peo-ple. And when he is rejected he queries, oYouwant to know if T'm moral enough to join theArmy, burn women, kids, houses and villages, afterbeing a litter-bug?�At any rate, that is the story. And the song andthe story blend all those American past-times andparodies that we cherish so dearly into one ex-pression.But underlying all of this subtle fun is a moresubtle message of protest against the utter in-sanity of these things that are so American, andthat Americans in the post-World War II decadeshave become so conditioned to accept.Guthrie says, oAnd the only reason ITm singinTyou this song now is because you may know ofsomebody in a similar situation. Or you may be ina similar situation. And if you are in a situationlike that then thereTs only one thing you can do,is walk into the shrink wherever you are and say,oShrink, you can get anything you want at AliceTsRestaurant.�Later, he adds, oCan you imagine 50 people aday walkinT in, singinT a bar of AliceTs Restaurant,and walkinT out? And friends, they may think itsa movement. And thatTs what it is"The AliceTsRestaurant Anti-Massacree movement. And allyouTve got to do to join is to sing it the next timeit comes around on the guitar"with feelinT.�That is what AliceTs Restaurant is about. It isAmerican"just as American as Motherhood andbeeApple Pie. But youTve got to sing it owith feelinT.JRR

moe Pry1the burnt leaveschasing themselves in the firethe burnt childmadly in love with desirethe old manturning his years into stonethe young childculling the sky for a bonesuch is the worldsuch is the skysuch is the eveningturning in a catseyeHX2wandering inside the seatongues of fire on the sandwaving between green fingersorange fish fightsilver shadowsfor a look at dawninside a rosé shelltentaclesHHH3spread sand shadowflatagainst the whorling windthat marrows allthe bonesupon the silken coastdawnamong broken shellsand lost teethRobert McDowellI shall soar with wingsOf youth and daring "Walk empty-pocketed } \Through the world "Play rouletteFlip coinsHave workable whims "After I learnHow to fly.Linda M. Texter34

Let Valor End My DaysI have not quite figured outYetHow I would like to endMy days. :I donTt really believe any calculationlmight makeWould affect my going hence.The whenceIs still a puzzle to me, and so |The henceCannot be so cleverly contrivedAs it could beIf I knew what it was all about.I do wishI could make an exit with some dignity.Beyond thatI have no certain wishes, no willTo leaveAs an imposition upon my kithAnd kin.I only wish to find some honorableWayTo have a more or less"probably less"HonorableDemise"te Deum laudamus, te dominum .. .Did I mention God"oPowers,� oEssences,� oSomethingT"would be a moreAccurate statement.Is there any valor in that, would you say?F. Sorensen35Kin to MountainsKin to the wind am IKin to the grey-green sageKin to striated mountainsOf multi-colored sandstoneKin to the roadrunnerAnd chipmunkAnd swift-flying antelopeKin to the desertAnd rocks of strange textureThe wind-worn monolithsStarkly thrust up from _The valley floorKin to the contrastAnd startling lovelinessOf a desert world.F. SorensenWHOSE FAULTKilling is a faultOf the time we live inThe time we live inIs a fault of being humanBeing human is a faultOf God and Devil in creationThe Devil is a necessary errorOn the part of GodIs oGod� a mistakeOn the part of man?F. Sorensen

ANAXIMANDERMan evolved from fishes "As Bertrand Russell says,oWhether our brethren of the deepCherish equally delicateSentiments towards us is not recorded�I knew a man who cherishedRemarkably tender sentimentsToward fish. He caught them onlyAnd if they were big onesWeighed and measured them, thenThrew them back to catch againHe was a true conservationistAngry when some foreigner from PittsburghCaught his pet fish and ate itBut I have learned sinceThat he suffered from diverticulitisAnd was no more supposed to eatFish than corn and nutsAnd fibrous foods " that perhapsHelped him to his tender regard for fishWhat regard the fish had for himI never did find out.F. SorensenSIX FOOTMan,how deep are the holesyou crawl backinto?bird on my fence avhe said.Bird on my fenceturning nervously from side to side, Why areGood Morning!Blue was the bird on my fence,Drigul., ";the sun would have gladly taken notes.Proud and blue was the bird on my fencewhen 1 said, ~good morning,T and shot it.Steve Hubbard36menburied six feetunder?*cause weTreused to ithe said.Steve Hubbard

5 got*eo ms. * ee. * a45) 9 pepae - Pom i $egeesa. aHave you everwrapped yourselfin aluminum sidingand gazedwith set jaw and eyeat a world of friends and peace and loveand wished you could always stay high.Archie Gaster

I have been to watch lights flicker and fires eat.I have seen children and old women fall down narrow staircasesand steel and concrete give their strength to patchwork-quilt minds.I have eyed closely while men gathered closely to prevent closeness, andI understand that rain and sun no longer mean bread and water, andmen must please their bosses rather than their God.I have stood by as whistles blow and smoke settles and bars fill rapidly,and men with sorrowful aged faces, stumbling from work, headsdowncast, or with youthful optimism in their eyes, slow or hurrytheir pace, and young wives stand or sit wiping sweat from theirwindows to see if men near the lamp posts are their husbands.I have watched insects weave patterns through a free sky to gatherand kill themselves in the heat of the lights.I fall awayinto the sleepof bitternessless often nowas I creep alongthe ditchTs edgein my gay splendorof tweeds and jasminewith friendswho rob me of my separatenessbut give so much in returnand we talknot of better thingsbut more about them.38Archie Gaster

Detached,I take a walkDown a milling street ...Jaws are firmly set"foreboding;Conceit is worn by youth and aged faces;Forms brush by"Impersonal robots moving forward"Unseeing, unfeeling, unrelenting.= If only I would pause and speak to one.utake Ou walk Just one. But no"ITm too afraid of being snubbed,Of caring only to suffer no return.TI cannot bear continued torment of such hurt.So life for me becomes a tragic front"Effusing pretended joy,Affecting fakish smile and careless air"Nothing but a front to hide my hurt .. .They must not ever know just how I feel.To escape the past-coated present;F hunger to (O) To bathe away the alien mind-prints;To make this plastic life livable...I hungerfor eighteen years i tranced the hazeof existencethen the pattern changedi found (?) myself nowhereknowing nothingliving not at allthe deluge beganand monstrosities became my companionshave, yowuelf no reason nor truth for mei struggled to swim out of the whirlpoolyou saw me drowningstanding on the bank you held out your handto me and i pulled you inbut you had saved yourself beforeyou made it out againsave me i criedsave yourself you saidLinda Faye Bryant39

Yellow is my lifeto methat I runfurtherthan you do.Back my yellowwhen I seethe distance, further 2than I go.Scared of youremptinessand I hidefar from herewithin myself.Black is your worldCoy me Coe) toto leadaway |from me.Love is the treewhere I restthe time of day 2: awayand are you scared of green leaves?Steve Hubbard

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photo and art credits.7 ana 9. Paul = Callaway1a ia. 14, 15. 37: ~Skip Wamsley : aeod, Vietnam! Vietnaml, ~Kyoichi_ Sawada, UPL ae222 9a 27, Walter Quad | :one Robert McDowell� pee. 23; top left, Vietnam! Vietnam, U- PfPP2pPepp. 23, top right, Vietnam! Vietnam!, Uy. Pi. :p: 23, bottom. tight and p. 45, Oe left, ~Charles Mock _B. 26, top right, Scott PEDOr = Ge | = .p, 25, far lef, Vietnam! Vietnam, Wilfred ~Burchettp. 25, bottom center, Vietnam! Vietnam!, Felix Greenep. 25, bottom right, Vietnam! Vietnam, YU, PasPe265. Vietnam! Vietnam, U. Bl.cover byCharles Griffin, Walter Quade, vand Rad Bailey

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