Criticizing someone anonymously is nothing new. And though the technology has changed, the cowardice remains.
Back when I began this column gig in the 1990s, I received snail mail letters—usually in care of the Herald-Citizen office—on a regular basis. Not surprisingly, the friendly ones were always signed, with a return address on the envelope.
One of the most memorable was in response to a column lamenting the fact that I didn’t know how to make my mother’s cornbread dressing. I knew she baked the cornbread a couple of days before Thanksgiving so it would be stale enough not to get soggy. I knew she sauteed onions and celery and bell peppers and used “real” broth instead of canned and that she baked it in a huge metal pan. But that’s all I knew. When I was 50, Mother died, leaving me lost in a million different ways. Every Thanksgiving since, I’ve given thanks for the H-C reader who snail-mailed me her dressing recipe. It’s not exactly like Mother’s, but it’s close enough.
I occasionally received anonymous snail mail. The weirdest was from a reader upset about a Duck Dynasty column. Inside the envelope–no return address, of course–were pages torn from a hunting catalog. They advertised Duck Dynasty coffee mugs and t-shirts and ball caps and other gear. An attached post-it note read YOU OBVIOUSLY DON’T UNDERSTAND UNCLE SI.
Many years have passed since I got any kind of column-related snail mail. These days, I hear from readers either through Facebook, where I post my column every week, or through email. (My address is published at the end of every column.) By and large, I enjoy the e-mails. Most are short and friendly. Some readers commiserate with my experiences. Others comment, almost always kindly, about a political opinion I’ve shared.
Just as fun as these friendly emails are the little presents I sometimes receive—a wooden folk art bird, a book of funny stories or, most often, atomic fireballs. I’m sad to say I haven’t yet received an Oscar Mayer wiener whistle, but I haven’t given up hope.
But not all responses to my columns are friendly.
There have been occasions when outraged readers have really let me have it in Letters to the Editor. Just recently, I was accused of using my “bully pulpit” to rail against Donald Trump celebrating his 79th birthday with a grand parade while the U.S. Army was also celebrating their 250th birthday. A couple of weeks ago, another reader wrote that “Like many in our community, I don’t read Jenny [sic] Ivey anymore due to her Trump bashing.” Hmmmm. I wonder how he knows about the bashing if he doesn’t read my columns.
But you know what they say. Where all think alike, no one thinks very much. It’s differences of opinion that makes horse races. Better to be criticized than ignored.
Here’s the thing. Herald-Citizen editors require, as they should, that columnists and letter writers use their real names. Anyone too cowardly to do so doesn’t get published, so I know who wrote the aforementioned angry letters. But there’s another way, in addition to unsigned snail mail, that someone who’s angry or offended or simply wants to spout off can anonymously contact me. That way is by using a cryptic email address.
I recently received just such an email. In extraordinarily articulate fashion, the writer accused me of being single-mindedly judgmental, a despot, a delusional parrot of the far left AND a proponent of slavery. But he or she didn’t reveal their identity.
So I emailed back: “I’m unwilling to engage in conversation as long as you remain anonymous. You know my name. What’s yours?”
Thus far I’ve received no reply.
(July 26, 2025)