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4819 W. 139th ST. Hawthorne, Calif. 90250 July 23, 1970 Dear Mr. Conroy,

Please forgive my handwriting. My typewriter has fallen apart, and I am looking for a good machine

at little or no cost. This is not a pollyannaish attitude of mind. Lately I have experienced a good many unusual happenings. To name a few: I got a summer job at the College as a research assistant in the Sociology Department. Since I am an English major and older I might be considered the least likely choice to study the communes and the new life style. I have, however, met young people who are deeply involved in the communes of a very high level. You, I think would understand them very well. Your letter and your material reinforce my personal belief that the quality of a human being can be found in what he does and what he writes. A far better Master's thesis might be built around you as a writer and why your work escaped the sterile, lifelessness of much so-called proletarian literature. I have xeroxed your materials and am returning the originals to you.