So we keep hearing from people insisting that we, the press, MUST tell them why a local man, somewhat prominent, died.
We have heard, UNofficially, that It was suicide. Whatever the cause, unless we were to get a police release on the matter, we wouldn’t report it – and quite possibly, even if we did get official word, we still wouldn’t.
We as a rule don’t report suicides, unless they are of an elected official, someone very prominent, or happen in a very public place or fashion (such as triggering a widespread search, etc.)
Some understand totally. Others are frustrated that we don’t report every tragic private thing that happens, even if it would pain a family grievously to no positive purpose. Will we try to find a way to tackle the topic of suicide, or of depression (easier), in these tough times? Yes. But not by dragging anyone in pain into the spotlight. Some believe that’s they “have a right” to know everything and anything, and we have a “duty” to tell them. Bull.
It’s like the ones who whine – yes, I use that word purposely – and call our deletion of their comments on the Website – the ones with unsubstantiated criminal allegations, unfounded rumors or foul language – “censorship,” and a denial of their “free speech” rights.
Double-bull. There are SO many places on the Web – craigslist rants and raves, for one – where anyone can say anything, under cloak of anonymity, to get their jollies. Go there. Please. Let us try to have a civil conversation about issues that matter, not flames and “you’re stupid!” and 5th-grade temper tantrums.
Please.
Oh, and about suicide – one of the few “Leave it to Barney” pieces I’ve written and been unable to do happened to include this fact – my mother jumped off a building and killed herself when I was 9 years old. (I seem to recall I was doing the piece after a story that cited statistics to show there are FAR more suicides than homicides in Oregon, and yet, we hear little about them, because … it is the ultimate taboo.)
Over years of online and face-to-face chats, I know that my revelation about my mother is the ultimate conversation stopper, because suicide is THE ultimate taboo. Better to talk of evil child abuse than suicide – who to get angry at? The loved one, colleague, etc. is gone, usually leaving only pain and “why?”s behind.
My usual pick-me-up after dropping that bomb is to say, “So I could be a LOT more screwed up than I am.” The laughter dissolves the awkward silence, and life goes on.
Other things that don’t fit into the little LITB on-air segment include the fact that, when I and my two older brothers moved to New Orleans from Philadelphia, after our mother’s suicide, to live with our dad and stepmother, she had to go to a notary public and swear out an affidavit that we were white.
Remember, this was 1965, in Louisana, no doubt going through the desegregation roiling tide. But still… we were, and are, about as “white” as they come. Not so long ago, either.
So please, come read our news articles, and then post comments with interesting points about the important issues they raise and your views about them. Help us drown out the noise with some strong signals. I’d appreciate it, and I think we’ll all be better for it. Otherwise, this experiment just may end one day.
Thanks.
Leave it to Barney 