Dear Sir:
No, I cannot take your magazine any longer. I have a son enlisted for this war, my neighbors have sons in this war and the words you are speaking these days increase the hazard of their lives, splendid service in the past it would seem easier to write you in the language of sorrow than in words of rebuke, which you attitude in this dreadful crisis would seem to merit. It hurts like a wound, God knows that it hurts, that you should have abandoned all your hitherto friends and so fallen down in the supreme hour of the nation's need.
Senator, were it not that the life of the nation is of vastly greater concern than the betterment of a class or a lowly race, you might be forgiven. We have followed your political fortunes for a quarter of a century with the zeal and admiration of a devotee; have honored you beyond any other public man for the scars and blows rained upon you—badges of honor, all of them, earned as they were for your defense of the less fortunate white man, the red man and less befriended black man.
Remembering your
For 20 years you have made yourself the target of the champions of monopoly, you have won a noble fame and to see you throwing it all to the winds today is shocking to say the least.
Could you but see yourself Senator, as you are seen by your former friends, could you but feel the shame and sense of tragedy that they feel when they hear cowards, slackers and traitors acclaiming you their champion and spokesman. 