Juliet Wittman's July 15 "Dead Reckoning" was an excellent story. Well-researched and very evocative as to person, place, time and the circumstances of both women's lives. I loved how a "rough-and-tumble" life such as Robson's was still presented in the context of her value as a kind and generous spirit to those whose lives she touched. Likewise, the loyalty and friendship evidenced by the friends of Deanna Furlong were well-portrayed.
The depiction of Michael Furlong's treatment of Deanna's children, Andy and Jacquie, brought back many similar scenes of public humiliation, physical abuse and emotional and mental torture I received from my own stepfather as a child between the ages of four and ten. It was a minor miracle he never killed one of us.
How the perpetrators of domestic violence continue to go free or nearly free on a regular basis baffles and appalls me. I have no idea why people in the justice system have gotten to be so unwilling to pursue and seek the truth, but they hardly seem to be public servants any longer.
Juliet Wittman is to be commended for her thorough and thoughtful, honest and in-depth reporting of the lives and deaths of these two women. While they both may have been "everywoman" in many respects, they were remarkable to those around them, which is oftentimes high praise indeed.
Just read "Dead Reckoning"--outstanding journalism by a lady who is a top-notch investigative reporter. After catching up on her article on Boulder's district attorney, Alex Hunter ("He Aims to Plea," September 24, 1998), I just wondered if anyone ever checked out his campaign contributions--they might shed some light on his ethics.
Thanks to Juliet for persevering on the behalf of victims, for finding the person in the victim, and for finding their humanity and dignity and holding it high above the acts of violence committed against them.
I spoke with Juliet regarding the death of a young woman in my former neighborhood. The response of the DA's office was that she was a known drunk and druggie and had fallen off the balcony at the Broker. In other words, her person had no meaning in light of her obvious shortcomings. It held a regretful likeness to R.A. Ritchie's remark regarding Linda Robson's death: "When it gets right down to the basics, what we have is a young lady who is a barmaid, who has a tendency to imbibe a little too much, has several boyfriends and is a...well, a free spirit."
I hope Hunter and Ritchie share a cell in Hell someday. What is the Scripture? "Judge not...lest ye shall be judged."
via the Internet
The Blame Game
As I read about Sam Riddle and others blaming pressure from the media as being responsible for the death of Secretary of State Victoria Buckley, I've assumed that they are talking about Westword's comprehensive coverage of problems at that office, most recently Patricia Calhoun's "Tell Me a Riddle," in the July 8 issue.
It's not right to blame the media, though. The truth hurts--but it does not kill.
via the Internet
Here's a money-saving tip for Governor Owens in his quest to lower government spending in Colorado and save taxpayers' hard-earned money: Mr. Owens can fill the vacancy caused by Victoria Buckley's untimely death by appointing Sam Riddle to succeed her as secretary of state.
As Ms. Buckley's political handler, Mr. Riddle has hands-on experience in running the department and is most qualified to continue her agenda. And Mr. Riddle's appointment to the full-time position of secretary of state will relieve the state of his $250-per-hour "personal-services" contract with that office.
The State of Colorado will retain Mr. Riddle's valuable skills to fulfill Ms. Buckley's legacy while cutting the overall cost of government services--a win-win situation for all.
K. Ely Tannenbaum
Although I have agreed with Westword's assessment of the politics at the secretary of state's office, I will remind you that bad karma surrounds those who speak ill of the dead.
Name withheld on request
Reading Tea Leaves
I wanted to thank Robin Chotzinoff for her wonderful "Tea and Sympathy," in the July 15 issue, about Denver's Tea Room. In the late Seventies, I worked at various jobs in downtown Denver, none of which threatened to make me rich. For an inexpensive lunch, I often enjoyed going to the Tea Room, where the waitresses always made me feel like I was one of their best customers. I usually sat at one of the big tables communally shared by numerous business types or office workers, but occasionally I would wait for a table of my own. Now I know why I liked the Tea Room's chicken à la king: two fluid ounces of cream and a quarter stick of butter per serving will always make a person feel content.