Science Writer Jack Leonard is too tall for his job. In this day of jet fighters and radar, when a scientist's work may soon be tested in the cockpit, Leonard has trouble folding his 6 ft. 2 frame inside some places where he finds his stories.

This problem became acute when he wrote "Interceptor Mission" (TIME, April 2), a crackling account of the radar-guided jet fighters which guard the Atlantic coastline against enemy bomber attack. One of the first newsmen granted Air Force permission to fly in the F-94, he found himself pretzeled between canopy and parachute while rocketing around the cold night sky at 600 m.p.h. He once had the same trouble when he rode the two-seater version of the F80 Shooting Star, but found the B45 four-jet light bomber more comfortable.

The cockpit of a fast plane is only one of the many odd spots where Leonard goes to do his job--giving TIME-readers first-hand accounts of scientific advances, their business and military uses. Last fall, for instance, he had slightly more roomy quarters at Cambridge and Oxford Universities for a couple of weeks, while he studied the new theory of the universe's origin, worked out by English cosmologists ("According to Hoyle," TIME, Nov. 20).

Before he began such jaunts for this magazine, Harvardman Leonard wrote eight books. Some samples: Tools of Tomorrow, Enjoyment of Science, Crusaders of Chemistry. In most of these he tried to pass on to laymen something of the fascination he feels for the methods, men and results of the advanced sciences.

Leonard's interceptor mission began at McGuire Air Force Base in New Jersey, where he learned the working details of the radar warning net. After dinner he put on coveralls and crash helmet, headed for the "ready shack." There he was shown how to operate the plane's radar panel, which would pick up the other F94 sent out to be "enemy" and then guide the pilot in for the "kill."

Trouble began when pilots began to harness Leonard into the usual protective gadgetry: buoyancy gear, oxygen mask, parachute, etc. With such equipment bulging from his 205 lbs., he needed the help of five men to fold him into the tiny radarman's cabin behind the pilot. When they lowered the bullet-proof canopy, it banged against his helmet, pushed his face within six inches of the radar panel.

Keen-eyed readers may have spotted something of Jack's predicament when they read his story. The accompanying Air Force picture showed the dim outline of his hunched shoulders and stooped head as the F-94, afterburner blasting, roared skyward. "No matter," he said later, "I fold easy."

During TIME'S telecast of the Kefauver committee hearings, Correspondent Frank McNaughton, who gave televiewers background on the testimony, received letters asking what private citizens could do to keep the committee from dying as scheduled. McNaughton reminded them that Washington still reads and counts its mail.

Since then, the lawmakers have been flooded with one of their biggest mailings in history. Committee members and Lawyer Halley got the most, but one non-committee Senator reported a thousand letters in three days, each demanding that the committee continue its work.

Here at TIME the mail has not been light. Many people have called or written telegrams and long letters to ask us for more information on the investigation's findings and to say what they think should be done. Total letters, cards and wires to date: 81,790.

Cordially yours,

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