Human Nature, Asshole
Regarding Russ Smith’s article on Ted Kennedy (“Teddy Without Tears,” June 4-10): I strongly take issue with Russ Smith’s criticism of Patrick Leahy’s expression of enormous grief at the diagnosis of his friend Ted Kennedy. Smith argues that Leahy ought to get his head checked if he feels more grief at an old man dying than, for example, the 3,000 who died on September 11th. But I for one admit, human nature—or at least mine—being what it is, if God forbid, a close family member of mine was diagnosed with a terrible disease, I would actually feel more horrible than I do over facts of mass deaths brought to me in news coverage.
Tens of thousands died in China recently, in Burma, in Iraq, and while I throw up my hands and decry the authorities, or feel, vicariously, something for the dead, it just does not compare to intense personal loss. Also, I have to admit, that while I am as aware as Russ of many of the Kennedy foibles and incidents of hideous behavior over the years—I think mainly of Chappaquiddick, but also of the many lesser examples of unfair treatment he’s received because of who he is—I briefly broke down and sobbed when I heard about his diagnosis. Why was that?
I had to admit I was reacting as if it was a close friend. Maybe the media, over the years, pressed him into my consciousness so much I thought of him as family. But more than once now, whenever they show him walking around while saying something about the tragedy, I might cry for half a minute. Beats me.
—Ron Grunberg
Die and Find Out
A few words of advice to Russ Smith on the subject of how better to impersonate a journalist: 1) When writing an obit, it is generally best to await the subject’s death. (This way one cannot be embarrassed by surgery or other unexpected recoveries.) 2) When writing an obit for someone you hold in low regard, it is prudent to stick to the facts, and not become mired in vituperative ranting, which only makes you look amateurish and childish. 3) When writing an obit for someone you hold in low regard who has, nonetheless, given five decades of service to his nation, the best narrative tone is one of respect, however insincere it may be. 4) When beating a dead horse named “Chappaquiddick,” it might be worth pointing out that the mere mention of its name prevented the Senator from a clear shot at the White House, a severe penalty for what most fair and reasonable newspapermen would accurately describe as a tragic accident. 5) Ever wonder what people will write about you when you are dying? Me neither. Why don’t you fucking die so we can all find out?
—Don Stitt, Manhattan
A Lapse of Manners
Why the fuss over a dying senator?
Pardon me for pointing out that you are talking about a dying man, a dying husband and father and surrogate father to his two murdered brothers’ children.
Your lack of sensitivity and compassion for Senator Ted Kennedy and his family is contemptible; but sadly it is yet another sign of the times we live in where a good cover story is considered more important than the respect for a human life, a time where we gun down undesirables on the streets, bomb entire villages suspected of harboring “evil ones” and trash our planet for the sake of profit and ever more “progress.” Now that truly is a grim situation.
And you, Mr. Smith, are without doubt a callous man of these times!
—Anji Janitschek, NYC
Favored Son
I’m glad that Russ Smith has not drunk the Kool-Aid regarding Old Joe Kennedy’s last son. Save deification for the Red Sox if you must. As for Teddy dying, aren’t we all really?
—Joan M. Macey, Binghamton, NY
Regarding Russ Smith’s article on Ted Kennedy (“Teddy Without Tears,” June 4-10): I strongly take issue with Russ Smith’s criticism of Patrick Leahy’s expression of enormous grief at the diagnosis of his friend Ted Kennedy. Smith argues that Leahy ought to get his head checked if he feels more grief at an old man dying than, for example, the 3,000 who died on September 11th. But I for one admit, human nature—or at least mine—being what it is, if God forbid, a close family member of mine was diagnosed with a terrible disease, I would actually feel more horrible than I do over facts of mass deaths brought to me in news coverage.
Tens of thousands died in China recently, in Burma, in Iraq, and while I throw up my hands and decry the authorities, or feel, vicariously, something for the dead, it just does not compare to intense personal loss. Also, I have to admit, that while I am as aware as Russ of many of the Kennedy foibles and incidents of hideous behavior over the years—I think mainly of Chappaquiddick, but also of the many lesser examples of unfair treatment he’s received because of who he is—I briefly broke down and sobbed when I heard about his diagnosis. Why was that?
I had to admit I was reacting as if it was a close friend. Maybe the media, over the years, pressed him into my consciousness so much I thought of him as family. But more than once now, whenever they show him walking around while saying something about the tragedy, I might cry for half a minute. Beats me.
—Ron Grunberg
Die and Find Out
A few words of advice to Russ Smith on the subject of how better to impersonate a journalist: 1) When writing an obit, it is generally best to await the subject’s death. (This way one cannot be embarrassed by surgery or other unexpected recoveries.) 2) When writing an obit for someone you hold in low regard, it is prudent to stick to the facts, and not become mired in vituperative ranting, which only makes you look amateurish and childish. 3) When writing an obit for someone you hold in low regard who has, nonetheless, given five decades of service to his nation, the best narrative tone is one of respect, however insincere it may be. 4) When beating a dead horse named “Chappaquiddick,” it might be worth pointing out that the mere mention of its name prevented the Senator from a clear shot at the White House, a severe penalty for what most fair and reasonable newspapermen would accurately describe as a tragic accident. 5) Ever wonder what people will write about you when you are dying? Me neither. Why don’t you fucking die so we can all find out?
—Don Stitt, Manhattan
A Lapse of Manners
Why the fuss over a dying senator?
Pardon me for pointing out that you are talking about a dying man, a dying husband and father and surrogate father to his two murdered brothers’ children.
Your lack of sensitivity and compassion for Senator Ted Kennedy and his family is contemptible; but sadly it is yet another sign of the times we live in where a good cover story is considered more important than the respect for a human life, a time where we gun down undesirables on the streets, bomb entire villages suspected of harboring “evil ones” and trash our planet for the sake of profit and ever more “progress.” Now that truly is a grim situation.
And you, Mr. Smith, are without doubt a callous man of these times!
—Anji Janitschek, NYC
Favored Son
I’m glad that Russ Smith has not drunk the Kool-Aid regarding Old Joe Kennedy’s last son. Save deification for the Red Sox if you must. As for Teddy dying, aren’t we all really?
—Joan M. Macey, Binghamton, NY
