October 17, 1969

Mr. Paul __________
Valley Stream. N.Y.

Dear Paul Age 9:

          The world around us is aflame. The flower of our youth is dying in Vietnam. The American campus is rife with conflict and turmoil. The streets tilled with protest. The home, the citadel of the society, is ridden with stress. The child wars with the parent and the parent wars with the child. The body politic is rent with dissension. The ghetto verges on the edge of the explosion. The economy is wild, senseless uncontrolled. The arts are on the barricades how far shall we go -- stark naked, half naked? Where are the limits.

          But, then, you have asked how I like my job as an editor.

          Well, it is an interesting time to be an editor. The only trouble is that there aren't enough hours in the day and there aren't enough days in the week. A man hardly has time to write to his best nine-year-old friends. But I write because I have something to say to you and, indeed, I would rather talk to you than almost anybody. I want you to point yourself in a certain direction, because it is not too late for you to start. I mean, I haven't given up on you, Paul. I'm not going to turn my back on you, no matter what they say. I want you to point yourself in the direction of concern -- concern and involvement. I want you to apply yourself to your lessons and know what's going on and interest yourself in it, do something about it. We are living in an age when our civilization either will flower and bloom or burn in the atomic holocaust. It is for us to do something about it. It is not enough to go to the moon and not enough for the Mets to win the World Series. We have to do something about the real problems on this planet. I want you to get with it, Paul.

                                    Your friend

PS/ps                               PAUL SANN