Well, I doubt you’ll have the time to read this, Ms. Fonda, but I got to see “Klute” again for the first time since I was a college kid in 1972. It struck me then as the most absorbing work ever done by ANY actor on camera. You disappeared into Bree and became her for two hours. Seeing it just last night, I was equally impressed and moved. Your scenes with Donald Sutherland grew more complex and moving with each encounter. Heartbreaking, but inevitable ending. The encounter with the killer and your astonishing reaction to the hideous murder tape you were forced to hear was dazzling, shocking and so complex, as you registered horror, grief and disbelief in tight closeups that appeared to be done in mostly one shot. You’re an American treasure and while I’m pretending that you’re actually reading this, just two more things: first, we met at Simon & Schuster when you made a working visit during the preparation of your workout books. You have no reason to remember, since I was a tongue-tied editorial admirer who got the look you in the eye, smile and say, hello. You were very gracious and responded briefly but kindly. And, secondly, I was draftable during the early Seventies when your anti-war activism was prominent. I was so grateful for your protests and spent months defending your actions to all those Silent Majority zombies who had no problem counting body bags. You helped fuel my courage (and rage) which enabled me to confront the monsters at my draft physical with an impassioned and enraged speech that actually got me exempted from the war. In repayment, I spent the next two years in my dormitory room at college, pulling AWOL friends through my ground floor window late at night and getting them money to cross the border into Canada. You and other celebrities led the way with your high-profile resistance that I admired then, and still admire to this very minute. So, thank you, Jane Fonda, for your life-saving work that you have been so unfairly vilified for. You’re a hero to me. And I’m grateful to you.