It was simply masterful reporting. I hope you win an award for it. I know you've earned massively good karma for digging out the horrible truth for us.
Deborah Heath Garfield Heights
What the boys didn't know: I grew up in this neighborhood and know all the people in your article. My parents still live on Fosdick Road, surrounded by all the people mentioned in your article. I just wanted to say thank you. We have been laughed at for years that we are crazy and told there is nothing to worry about. "It's just a coincidence -- everyone gets sick." I have four kids and have to worry every day if I'm the next one to die before they grow up. I was good friends and played with Dale Kattler and Jason Berger on that hill. We were just boys being boys, good kids staying out of trouble and playing and exploring. Little did we know it could cost us our lives, and for what? Money.
God, please watch over my friends and neighbors.
David Meade Brooklyn Heights
A family suffers: I grew up in Garfield Heights and now am very ill. I'm seeing tons of doctors. First they thought I had MS for about a year. Now they are not sure what is wrong with me. I am 42 years old. I have five siblings, four of whom have been told they have lupus. Two have other unknown problems.
Great story. If I ever find out what is wrong, I shall let you know right away. I'm having blood taken and a colonoscopy. I have something very wrong -- just what, I don't know. It's so troubling not to know, not to be treated other than for symptoms.
As I write, my mother lies in bed after months at the Clinic. She is sicker than us now. I know her life is near over, and she is only 62.
City View advisory: I am 44 years old, born and raised in Valley View, and remember the stench coming from the dump. I know Jason Berger and many of the families on Murray and Fosdick. I will never shop at City View and advise everyone I know to stay away. Boyas, the EPA, and the State of Ohio are all responsible -- it's time for them to man up.
Skippy's Epic Response
In defense of important things: I am not the least bit amused by your ultimate-epic-road-trip-to-end-all-ultimate-epic-road-trips piece in this week's issue ["BCS, Here We Come," January 17]. How dare you insinuate that I would even enter the lobby of a gentlemen's club.
I may be mistaken, but I think you also might be lampooning this important assignment. If you are, you are also lampooning me as a professional journalist. And, as a result, you are stepping on the important institution and tradition that is the American daily newspaper. I hope you can sleep at night.
By the way: How did you find out about those punches to my tummy?
John Campanelli ("Reporter Skippy")
The Plain Dealer
Reason 45,663 to Believe in Cleveland: In response to your January 10 article "The City That Never Works": I know just where Christina is coming from.
In July 2006 I was robbed at gunpoint by four or five young men in a van. Because of the time (4:10 a.m.), it took 45 minutes for a response to my 911 call. The excuse? Only crack whores are robbed at that time of day. I was on my way to work.
All of my IDs, my bank card, and my money was taken, along with my cell phone. I called my number. The thieves answered and threatened to kill me if I called again.
The detective bureau never called me. I called them and they told me I could look at mug shots if I wanted to. I didn't. I was so shaken up, I couldn't have identified them anyway.
No one has ever contacted me on this case again. Maybe if I had been shot or killed, the case would have gotten some attention. I have moved out of Cleveland.
Skin is the best part: No doubt I join thousands of others in outrage when I discovered that you had lured us to Scene's blog [clevescene.com] under false pretenses. Well, at least somewhat misleading pretenses.
At the end of your January 10 piece on "Getting Naked for Chicken" [First Punch] you invited us to visit the blog to "learn more about the serious issues via photos of hot chicks." I was dismayed to discover that I could not research the most serious issue in the story: naked girls.
None of the hot chicks were shown in their birthday suits. I had expected to be able to do some serious research on these ladies. I mean, shaved, fuzzy, or just a landing strip? Some serious hooters or mere mosquito bites? These questions certainly tie in with their politics about dead chickens. (One lousy picture of a nip slip behind a protest sign does little good from the standpoint of serious research.)
I'll grant that they were hot, but the serious questions go unanswered.
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