SUN History continued from page 7

SUN History

continued from page 7

marijuana law and other progressive legislation were passed, including funding for human services, and spirits had never been higher. The paper turned to the state-wide initiative (MMI) to decriminalize marijuana and the effort to organize a local "Tribal Council." an amalgamation of local alternative institutions. The new People's Ballroom, the Blues and Jazz Festival, community radio at WNRZ and the Washington St. Community Center became major items of coverage, along with regular news and features in the political and cultural realms.

But soon unforeseen changes set in. The Community Center and Ballroom were destroyed by an arsonist in December of '72. Progressive radio at WNRZ was thrown off the air by its absentee owner. And the Human Rights Party began abandoning its original direction as a mass-based community party, becoming dominated by political ideologues who put the abstract in front of the practical. HRP decided to make their major focus in the fall, '72 campaign be opposition to McGovern, in the face of a positive mass movement to support him and thereby end the U.S. war against Indochina. HRP adopted a platform plank that demanded use of female pronouns all the time. Wechsler and DeGrieck began putting more energy into fighting their potential Democratic allies on the council than in accomplishing the concrete changes which could win voters over to the HRP. The party later went on to help elect Jim Stephenson and a Republican majority through a disastrous and forewarned vote split. The GOP majority contributed to an atmosphere of repression in Ann Arbor, which made operating alternative institutions increasingly difficult.

While this was happening, financial woes began beating down the paper, which was supported by loans gathered by the RPP and not enough through advertising and distribution. In those days most of the SUN staff paid little or no attention to economics. As a result, the SUN was forced to stop publication altogether for four months in 1973.

In addition the paper developed problems of a different nature. Without realizing it, the people on the SUN were becoming far too isolated from the rest of what was happening in town. The SUN over-emphasized the activities of the RPP, which published it with nothing but the best of intentions, and of the fledgling Tribal Council. The activities of these groups were certainly worthy of coverage, but so was a good deal more. Additionally, the alternative community was growing by leaps and bounds, and so was its level of intelligence and experience. Yet the literary level of the SUN stagnated, leaving much to be desired in terms of depth, quality and rhetoric.

Eventually some of the staff realized, with the prodding of John Sinclair especially, that the SUN had to change drastically or die. With the now-defunct RPP's help, the paper left the basement of Hill Street and moved out on its own, financially as well, to become more of a well-rounded community newspaper. Offices were secured downtown above the Blind Pig, where the SUN was edited by Linda Ross, who worked to regain the paper's lost credibility and readership.

From our offices above the Blind Pig Cafe on First Street, the SUN published a regular bi-weekly newspaper which has been growing in size, circulation and influence ever since. During that year the paper exposed undercover "narcotics agents;" helped to reenact the $5 marijuana law, spearheaded the drive to stop McDonald's, and uncovered the massive campaign by Citizens for Good Housing to defeat rent control. Fighting a continual deficit with loans from supporters, the SUN actually made it into the black in the summer of 1974 for the first time in history, due to increased advertising and circulation.

But while we were breaking even, it was with far too few staff people, too few pages, too little investment in distribution expansion and other things that were virtually necessary. So the staff decided to go into the red once more, to hire five or six paid staffers (at a mere $40 weekly), buy a number of coinboxes, and secure new offices directly on campus. We moved into our new offices above the Matrix Theatre on William Street in September of '74, and at the same time published the largest issue in our history, a full 88 pages, of which 25,000 copies were handed out free as a promotional device.

The SUN also jumped into weekly publication at that point, which proved to be a step beyond our reach, and was retracted last December back to bi-weekly publication. The weekly schedule proved too difficult due to a limited economy and limited staff. But during that period the SUN continued its activism, contributing to the drive to stop KRIM war research from moving into town, documenting the danger to the Ozone level by freon in spray cans, helping to pass the Preferential Voting System which the Republicans are currently subverting, and exposing more undercover anti-marijuana agents. The paper's regular features; especially the Community Calendar, National/international news and analysis, and cultural reviews, expanded greatly.

Which brings us up to the present. Having successfully completed our "Win A Pound of Colombian" contest, which greatly boosted circulation, the SUN is facing a promising future. While the paper is still suffering a small deficit and does not have the funds with which to expand as we'd like, while we still need more writers and upgraded all-around content, the SUN is clearly here to stay. It wouldn't have ever been possible without the dedication of our underpaid and overworked staff, nor without the support of numerous people in town who have contributed articles, ideas, criticism, and money. As we enter our fifth year, it is precisely this kind of support which will make the difference as to how well the SUN will be able to grow in the years to come.

--David Fenton, for the SUN Collective