Golly gee! Washington stargazer Svetlana Godillo says Richard Nixon had nothing to do with Watergate; George Wallace has the stamina of a grizzly bear; Senator Percy is an opportunist; Rockefeller is a monumental vote-getter; and Ted Kennedy is a skirt-chasing Mama’s boy. I could have told you all this two years ago, and I don’t even have a ouija board.
Carol W. Fetty
San Dimas, Calif.
Does Svetlana do charts on anyone? If so I would like her address.
Write her at 1421 Massachusetts Ave. N.W., Washington, D.C. 20005 with details, including place and exact time of birth. She then phones you collect with her reading or will send you a tape. Price: $75-$100 depending upon the difficulty of your chart.—ED.
Today there are many ways to try to escape the mess the world has become: narcotics, noise instead of music, beatnik or hippie so-called life style, sexual heresy. All bad. But by far the most dangerous is this rush to the supernatural: astrology, clairvoyance, prophecy. How can man think clearly to solve his real problems if he has such unrealistic concepts? It’s about time some reputable publication got public-spirited and scientific-minded and began a crusade against this mental retreat to the Dark Ages.
Curtis D. MacDougall
Dr. MacDougall is retired Professor of Journalism at Northwestern University and author of many books, including the landmark Understanding Public Opinion.—ED.
Throughout his career Robert A. Maheu, by his own admission, has been involved in one underhanded deal after another. Mr. Maheu is lucky that I am not a member of the jury which will determine the amount of defamation damage he is due in his suit against Howard Hughes. I would hold out for $1.73, and that would be a $1.72 overpayment.
Stewart H. Price
Sorry to burst someone’s bubble but that “prophetic ode” son Billy Maheu presented to his Dad (last line: “And guess what Dad? You’re fired”) came from a 1963 issue of Mad magazine. It delighted me so I committed it to memory. Billy Maheu isn’t a prophet, just a good printer.
Suzanne S. Mellor
Woodland Hills, Calif.
I read your article about Tori Clark and how she’s trying to save the whales. I would like to join Tori and all the other smart Americans who are trying to save this graceful creature. Please tell me where to write to Project Jonah. It is very important to me.
Arlington Hts., Ill.
The address is Project Jonah, Box 476, Bolinas, Calif. 94924.—ED.
Leave it to a child to show the way. Bless Tori Clark’s noble heart.
Blue Springs, Mo.
Author Thomas Sanchez
The galvanic events of 1968 (among them Nixon’s election) forced Thomas Sanchez to leave America and travel abroad. How strange that he returned in 1972 when President Nixon was reelected, and bought himself a splendid home. I would hope that he now sings God Bless America every time he opens his front door.
Brooklyn, New York
It’s about time women’s crew got the recognition it deserves. Perhaps now the press will see fit to give crew (particularly national races) more coverage than two lines at the end of the sports section. Next, Joan Lind on the cover of PEOPLE?
Santa Monica, Calif.
The article on rock musician Edgar Winter was just fantastic. I am curious. Are his parents albinos too?
Battle Creek, Michigan
I was deeply touched by the article on Jean Stapleton. She’s not only a great actress but also a magnificent human being. Most people think that because you’re in the limelight and making a lot of clams, you’ve really got it made. Not so. Couldn’t help thinking when I concluded the article, “Poor little dingbat.”
I’m surprised that one of pro football’s highest-paid players adopts a neutral position on the NFL players’ strike. Larry Csonka is a terror on the gridiron but is evidently a pussycat when it comes to taking sides on a grave issue that threatens to kill off the 1974 NFL season.
It seems a shame that the rich and famous Larry Csonka cannot afford to have that dented bumper on his Bentley fixed. Perhaps there are other dents there that need repairing, such as Mr. Csonka’s outlook on life.
Derek Van Hains
After putting in some two years overhauling his 1953 Bentley, Csonka delivered it to the paint shop. A garage jockey took the Bentley from the shop to fill the tank and hit a concrete post. “It was pretty discouraging,” says Csonka, who hasn’t gotten around to fixing it yet.—ED.