Way back in the distant past, when I was a different person, I worked as a newspaper reporter in Augusta, Ga. I started in the spring of 1973 and worked there for three years on the State Desk. That meant that I covered the surrounding communities, up to around 50 miles away from town. City council meetings, county commission meetings, school board meetings, and anything else I could think of. I got to do some really fun and interesting things, like ride in the cab of a steam locomotive and sit in the pilot’s seat of the Goodyear blimp while it was in the air. I also did a lot of feature writing. Most of that is lost beyond recovery in my memory. But when I was cleaning out some old stuff at my mother’s house, I ran across some letters from readers.

Here’s a nice one, from March 1972:

Dear Mr. Parris (sic),

Thank you for the nice write up in the paper.

We had a lot of visitors and I think we made some new friends. Everyone talked about how nice the article was. One even wanted us to put our names on one for her. The first time anyone ever wanted an autograph from us. Some said they had never seen anything like this setup for the martins. All had tried to attract martins to their places but only a few had ever had any to nest with them and thought we might could help tell them if there was anything else they could do. We gave away quite a few gourds. Maybe that will help.

Have a good day and thank you very much for all the nice things you said about us and our place for the birds.

Mr and Mrs. ***

P.S. The best yet for my scrap book.

And now you know as much about the article I wrote as I do. I assume I wrote about purple martin nests they made from gourds. It seems to spark some weak memory, but I’m not sure whether I’m just making it up now, 41 years later. I have a fairly large box full of old clippings. Maybe I can find the story.

I regret to say I don’t think I ever wrote a note back to them. They seem like nice people. I imagine that they are dead now. A quick check online found a lot of people with their last name in the community where they lived, but no one with the full name.

And then there was this letter from September 1975:

Dear Mr. Paris,

While reading your article in the Augusta Chronicle on demand growing for wood stoves, I became very infuriated by some of your remarks you made about the “poor country people.” Let me say that I live in the country, and I feel that I’m one of the richest persons in the world. We may not have a bank full of money, but God has certainly blessed us in so many other ways.

You may not believe this, but even though we live in the country, we have central heat and air conditioning in our home. Let me say that if the need arises for us to get a wood stove I believe we could afford to buy one, and I feel sure we could get the wood to burn in it. I don’t think “poor country people” have to burn boxes and other household trash any more so than city people. I guess you have realized by now that I think you need to get out and busy yourself to find something more interesting to write about next time.

If you can’t say something nice about country people, just don’t write about us at all.

Thank you,

Mrs. ***

I remember absolutely nothing at all about the article, but I do remember feeling injured, because, as I recall, I thought I was not implying that all country people were poor, but that some poor people who happened to live in the country were using wood stoves. I am pretty sure I was quoting a wood stove salesman about what some poor country people might burn in their stoves. I also regret that I never wrote the author back to try to apologize and explain.

I remember getting another letter from an engineer who took issue with my spelling of the word mill in reference to property tax. I think I spelled it “mil” which he said was a unit of measurement. He was irate. I have to say in my defense that the copy editor should have caught that, but the ultimate responsibility is mine. I still wonder why it offended this guy so much. I did not keep his letter.

I have one more letter on the positive side.

 Hi Mark,

Just a note to let you know we were thrilled to see (their daughter’s) picture on the front page of the Augusta Chronicle. It was such a surprise!

I think it was so nice of you to take such an interest in someone you didn’t know.

If we can ever do a favor for you, let me know.

Thanks again,

From all the writing I did, as far as I can tell, four people were moved to actually write me. These letters make me think. I guess most of the writers are dead now, or maybe in nursing homes, or invalids in their own homes. I touched their lives in some way, large or small, and at the time I didn’t understand what that meant. Based solely on me, I have to conclude that twenty-somethings can be pretty dense.

It has taken me a long time to realize that what you do in what seems the simplest way can have such a big effect on people. If I had understood more, maybe I would have done things differently.

It’s a lesson I continue to have to learn.