A victim shares her side of the story:
Well, what a lie about Carl having sex with me only two times ["Biggest Little Man in Elyria," September 20]. It was way more like five times a day. [In the story, author Sarah Fenske wrote: "When he was 20, Carl Taylor was charged with "corrupting" a 15-year-old girl. Taylor told police they had sex twice . . ."] I can't believe the li'l nigga killed someone. I'll be 18 in two months. I just did 10 months in prison for probation violations. I had to move to Tennessee to be away from Carl. During my parole hearing, the judge would only release me if I moved out of state, away from Carl.
Bobbie Sue Mincy
Cigs snuff out disabled woman's argument:
I am generally sympathetic to the plight of people like Ella Patterson, who require the use of a mechanical lift when using RTA for transport ["Lifting Waits," October 11]. However, it was difficult to ignore her statement that she would have to "sit at home all day and smoke cigarettes" if she could not get to work. This, from a person with severe pulmonary disease who requires the use of oxygen? What's wrong with this picture?
It's time to give a dead author some love:
Laura Putre's "Unfavorite Son" [October 18] accurately captures the state of affairs surrounding author Sherwood Anderson and his reputation. It is my hope that her article will arouse support for and interest in Anderson and his works.
Besides being an Ohioan and a onetime resident of Cleveland and Elyria, Anderson is an overlooked, respect-worthy literary figure responsible for launching the careers of Ernest Hemingway, William Faulkner, and other early 20th century American writers.
The caricature of Anderson accurately reflects how he felt, not only about his relationship with the people of Clyde, but also about his contemporaries. I'm sure Hemingway and Faulkner would be throwing tomatoes at him, too, even though they owe their success to him. It's time for Ohioans to stop the tomato-throwing and give Anderson the respect he is due.
Will Schuck, Director
The Sherwood Anderson Literary Center
Derf blows another good mind:
In response to your October 18 "The City" strip: What happened was a mind-blowing tragedy. It was certainly not the first mind-blowing tragedy in this world, and God never promised there wouldn't be any. In a perfect world, everything would make sense, and tragedies wouldn't happen. However, in a perfect world, this test called life wouldn't make much sense, would it? This world is full of sin and evil, and the only thing that can pull us through is faith. I think it's also a mind-blowing tragedy that someone would try to rip that faith right out of us in this hour, whether that steel cross was a message from God or not.
Shaw band alums sound off:
I cannot tell you how gratifying and moving it was to read the article on my alma mater in your October 4 issue ["Tuba or Not to Be"]. I began at Shaw in 1979, and many of my fellow classmates went from Kirk's music department into Shaw's. The mid- to late 1980s did, indeed, signal the end of the Shaw era that I had grown up with (the huge band in the 1970s, the Rhythm Teens, and the cries of "Shaw got soul"). Homecoming parades were so jam-packed that you got your spot early and walked with the band all the way to Shaw Stadium.
Of course, the football team didn't always win, but who cared? Halftime was what most of East Cleveland and our rivals came for. I e-mailed the article to my brother, who was in the band with Darrell Stovall and Donshon Wilson. He lives in Maryland and still plays the trumpet, which he mastered at Shaw. He was as excited as I was when he read the article. Thank you for spotlighting Shaw.
Playback reviews wallow in pointlessness:
I thought your reviews of Ryan Adams's Gold and Jay Farrar's Sebastopol were very shallow [Playback, September 27]. It is obvious to me that you don't give two craps about this music. Adams's first solo album is an excellent record. The Whiskeytown album is not my favorite, but still a great album. I also thought that the statement "wallows in pointlessness," about Jay Farrar's album, was a cheap shot. There is a lot of pointless music out there today, and I certainly wouldn't classify Jay Farrar in that manner.