Foxfire 3 [antikvár]

INTRODUCTIONt iJI:"n the spring of 1976, Foxfire magazine will be ten years old. By all the -normal standards of measurement, we should have plenty to celebrate, for Foxfire has not only survived, but is being called one of the most dramatically successful high school projects in sight.By 1976, our first book will have sold well over a million copies. The second book will be right behind it. The telephone in our office rings constantly, bringing requests from film and TV producers, advertising executives, and free-lance writers and photographers. I receive hundreds of letters a year inviting me to speak before various organizations, serve on various boards, lend my name to various proposals or proposed proposals, or accept various jobs. Scores of visitors come through our tiny office with no more reason than "just wanting to see where it's done," or wanting us to introduce them to some "real mountain people." Not long ago, a stranger came huffing the half mile up the mountain to my log house, where a couple of kids and I were spending a Saturday adding a porch, took a picture of us with his Instamatic, and then struggled back down the mountain.I accept several invitations a year to speak. Almost invariably in the question-and-answer period that follows the presentation, the same question comes up. It goes something like this: "Did you ever dream when you started the project that all this success would happen?"I usually laugh and answer, "No, never." And that's true. I sometimes don't see how we made it past our second issue. But at a recent talk, something perverse in my character or my mood made me answer, "Say you're a high school teacher who wants to reach his students in a very special way. You start a project with them, and in the early days, you all do everything together. When you walk across the campus, as often as not a kid will come charging up from behind and tackle you, laughing crazily as you roll, wrestling, scattering books and papers across the grass.