To the Editor:
We discover on our walk around town that the trees bordering Henderson Field, beneath which, shaded from the sun, we used to sip lemonade while watching our toddlers, tweens, and teens kick the ball about, have been destroyed, and we wonder at this decision: was it prompted by some form of sun worship now that the hole in the ozone layer has been put on the back burner of the current ecological oven?
Perhaps UMOJA Park should be denuded of its arboreal cover and its leaves of grass replaced by sand. Now that forests over the surface of The Earth all around the globe are being sacrificed to the Sun God and the oceans are rising in complaint, it will no longer be possible to enjoy the wind and the waves downa shore. A beachhead in Swarthmore might be just the thing!
To the Editor:
I’m afraid. Really really afraid. Of the possibility that Donald Trump could become the next president of the United States. I’ve watched in consternation the lynch mob mentality of his supporters at his rallies and at the RNC convention. How he stokes their fears and anxieties and prejudices. And of how easily individuals with suppressed grudges can be goaded into becoming the willing instrument of his wrath and vengeance against anyone who dares cross him. “Knock the crap out of them, would you? Just knock the hell — I promise you, I will pay for the legal fees” he tells his supporters. “I’d like to punch him in the face,” he rages, as his supporters and staff kick and punch protesters and reporters. After speaker after speaker criticized him at the Democratic convention, Trump fumed that he’d like to “hit a number of those speakers so hard, their heads would spin.” And just think of Trump’s boast that he could stand in the middle of 5th Avenue and shoot somebody and and he wouldn’t lose any voters. This man is truly dangerous. This man is sick. This man must not become the President of the United States.