Good morning and thanks for including us in your Sunday.
Often during the workweek I'll imagine a family sitting around the Sunday breakfast table, divvying up sections of the paper. One member of this awakening family requests Sun Magazine first, perhaps because the cover photograph or headline has enticed him or perhaps because of his devotion to a weekly column or feature. (I know of at least one household where a morning grouch should never be approached until she has had her Sunday dose of Dave Barry.)
I imagine another family member choosing to set the magazine aside for the afternoon, until he or she has dug deeply into the news sections and gotten a grip on the world. Nothing provides greater satisfaction to us than to hear about the magazine being "saved for later," as if it were the dessert course in the banquet that is the Sunday paper. (Others think of the funnies that way. To each his own, I say.)
Another family member waits until bedtime to read us, perhaps working the crossword puzzle as the final hours of the weekend fade to cool blackness. A senior editor here once confided to me that he and his wife get into bed and complete the puzzle together on Sunday nights. That we help to provide such moments of intimacy is powerful affirmation of what our staff creates.
In my imaginings I see yet another member of the family tucking the magazine into a briefcase for the rail commute or bus ride to work Monday morning. I often remind the magazine staff that our work has lasting value. It enhances and illuminates lives.
While the physical remains of what we produce ultimately ends up in the recycling bin, the less tangible remains can live on for months or years. I was stunned recently when someone I'd never met before asked me if I was the same Michael Davis who had written a cover story last year about the travails of coaching girl's softball. It was both gratifying and unsettling that she had made this connection.
While it brought great gladness to my heart that the story had been captured in her brain cells and could still evoke emotions long after it was conceived, her recollection also reminded me of the awesome responsibility we have to depict events accurately and fairly. Errors of judgment, taste and fact have a way of hanging on, too.
And one more thought. We take readers to places they've never been and introduce them to subjects they've never encountered. Such is the case with today's cover story featuring Garo Lachinian's dizzying, dazzling views of Baltimore the way high-rise window washers see it.
When we are performing our jobs well, we communicate with you in a very direct and intimate way.
Let us know how we're doing by writing to us at Sun Magazine, 501 N. Calvert St., Baltimore, Md. 21278.