Our readers wrote letters throughout 1989 expressing their viewpoints on a variety of issues. Here are condensed versions of some of those letters. We appreciate their taking the time to share their viewpoints and look forward to hearing from more of them in 1990.
Not quite dawn. The smell of wet clothes, sound of coughing, mumbling, snoring. I felt embarrassed, like an intruder, and found myself talking in whispers and walking softly. After all, it is their bedroom.
The Fullerton Armory was an eerie, cavernous hall, full of “the homeless"--restless, sleeping forms sprawled on narrow, foldaway cots such as one takes to the beach.
At 6 a.m., the people were awakened. Many had jobs they must get to. They had to fold their blankets and put away their beds before breakfast. The people were sweet, gentle and smiled at us and said, “Thank you.” It was a soul-stirring experience. It was mindful to some of Depression days.