Your series of articles on safe driving is an excellent idea. I read them with a great deal of interest, inasmuch as I believe that a frontal attack on the death, damage, injury and misery of highway accidents is the only possible solution.
We have passed through the stage of "gentle persuasion," through mottoes, slogans and catchy jingles. Now we must educate people in order to save their own lives. When this cannot be done, I feel that government must restrict the privilege of driving, and this has been my aim in Pennsylvania.
Congratulations on the series.
DAVID L. LAWRENCE
I read in your Feb. 6 issue of SPORTS ILLUSTRATED about Mr. Clem Bill and his 50 years of bowling. He mentions in your article his average has dropped to 125, and I believe I have a reason for this. In the picture of him bowling he seems to be putting the ball down about three or four feet before the foul line. If he moved up a little more before releasing the ball, he might improve his game.
Your article on the War Lord of the Warm Reefs (Feb. 6) has been badly needed for some time to explain the natural behavior of the barracuda. The "cuda" is more of a nuisance than a menace and should never prevent man from seeing and experiencing the thrills of a reef.
G. L. (JACK) REEVES JR.
I have recently had occasion to review the scientific literature on the subject of ichthyosarcotoxism and I would be interested in knowing upon what authority Mr. Poling suggests that the case fatality rate of barracuda poisoning may approximate 4% in the Florida- Caribbean area.
RONALD B. MACKENZIE, M.D.
?A confusion of dates distorted the percentage. During the last 40 years the Florida- Caribbean area has indeed reported 196 cases of barracuda poisoning, but the eight fatalities noted in the same area cover a period dating back to 1843.—ED.
Your coverage of the Big Bear Run motorcycle race (Debacle in the Desert, Jan. 23) was a misleading and irresponsible piece of reporting. It was particularly disappointing to motorcyclists who, but for Reporter James Murray's whim, might have gotten a rare favorable plug in a prestigious publication.
The story Murray didn't get is spread over the 152 treacherous miles of hum-mocked sand, of beckoning boulders, of barren desert hills. It lies in some 800 durable, skilled and courageous men lining up handle bar to handle bar on the cold Mojave on a January morning, volunteering for half a dozen hours of lonely punishment with the game worth only the invisible candle of personal satisfaction.
Rolling Hills, Calif.
Apparently Murray had one paramount thought in the back of his mind when he covered the race: how he hated motorcycling.