Letters About Letters
Dear Editor: I wanted to respond to a letter published in the last issue that complained about you publishing the letter regarding the police chief for not being vaccinated. The initial letter about the police chief was concise and to the point. It shared the writer’s opinion. The second letter stating the Gabber shouldn’t have published the first letter also expressed an opinion. If that’s all it did, that would have been fine but to stoop to name calling by referring to the other writer as a “Karen” and a dolt, that kind of personal attack is unacceptable. The Gabber proved itself neutral by publishing both letters, [but] I would have edited out the name calling. What I appreciate about the Gabber is that you welcome and publish letters from the community whether or not you share their opinion. – Liz Snow
Change How Death Notifications Are Made
Dear Editor: I am reflecting on the way I found out that my brother died. Three armed, armored, stern men came to my door and used that loud banging (there is a doorbell). I don’t remember any words after “your brother was found dead.” I do remember fixing my eyes in the officer’s gun. I thought, “There is a man with a gun in my house. I don’t allow guns in my house. I don’t like anything about guns.” The officer who spoke to me was professional and sincere. I have done death notifications with doctors when I was a chaplain. I have held the hands of dying people and dead ones. I have been there to comfort the surviving family and friends. I have been at gravesides when grief-stricken mothers have thrown themselves into graves. I have watched people throw things and break them in rage after a loved one dies. I have caught too many people as they collapsed at hearing terribly sad news. I have seen it all as a social worker, a chaplain, a pastor. And never once did I feel the need to have a gun or armor or two identically armed back-up cops.
It’s time to change how death notifications are made. I needed a helping professional that day, but the system sent the wrong kind. – Rev. Valerie Mapstone Ackerman, MSW, Mdiv, Gulfport