A DEVALUING OF WORDS

EDITOR: Why would Amy Jenniges and The Stranger want to print an article that reinforces the all-too-common response to domestic violence of victim-blaming ["The Abuse Excuse," April 18]? Sure, Wanda Moats may not have an airtight story to explain her actions--but why treat it as a given that this means she is a liar and/or crazy? In a high number of domestic-violence situations there is no physical evidence available--many abusers are smart/manipulative enough to prevent or conceal such evidence, and for many battered women, calling the police to file a report will increase the potential lethality of the situation. In many cases a battered woman's word is all that she has. By devaluing the word of Wanda Moats you have risked devaluing the word of all battered women.

Jeanne Stevens, via e-mail


A GREATER DISSERVICE

EDITOR: I don't know who to be more upset with: Wanda Moats for being vague or Amy Jenniges for writing about her. I'm aware that there are fathers who lose children all the time due to a vengeful significant other when there is alleged abuse. However, this article was so one-sided that it did the many women who flee domestic violence a greater disservice than promoting fathers who have lost children. Very little is written or said in the media about the women who are ostracized from friends and family when they flee such a relationship. Even less is said about the sometimes intense pressure placed by friends or family on a woman with children to return to such a situation because the woman is not believed or the abuse is minimalized. It is damn hard to be strong enough to leave your old life behind and start over when you have little or no support from the people you had hoped would understand and stand with you. I have been in a battered-women's shelter for the maximum time allowed me (30 days). Of the eight women who came in around the time I did, four went back to abusive situations because it was too hard to start over.

I am not defending Ms. Moats, or people like Faye Yager who use questionable practices to hide women and children. Unfortunately, sometimes protection orders and traditional help are not enough. If you are going to show how the system is being misappropriated, then show how it fails women who desperately need a way out.

Anonymous, via e-mail


ABSENT ON JOURNALISM DAY

EDITOR: I just read "The Abuse Excuse," and I have just one question: Was Amy Jenniges absent the day they taught journalism in journalism school? I have never read such a blatantly slanted article in my life. For example, Jenniges uses such loaded phrases as, "she said dramatically," and, "Wanda constantly referred to David as her abuser, as if simple repetition of the charge was all the proof she needed," in reference to Moats. In reference to David Mattson, it's all roses: "He had been patiently waiting for four years," and, "He had been on an emotional roller coaster." Why all the sympathy for Mattson, and none for Moats? I don't know which of the two is telling the truth, but her omnipotent tone notwithstanding, neither does Jenniges.

As far as I can tell from reading the piece, Jenniges has decided on Moats' guilt because she refused to hand over notes of therapy sessions, and she wouldn't give the name of her former attorney. Personally, I think Moats' refusal to give Jenniges her therapy notes is evidence of intelligence rather than guilt. And while the reluctance to give the attorney's name is odd, it is not nearly as damning as the story of Mattson "throttling" Moats' 10-year-old son. But apparently using the word "throttle" in place of "strangle" erases all Jenniges' objective doubt as to his innocence. Strangely, given her judgment of Moats' reticence on some aspects of her case, Jenniges draws no inferences from Mattson's refusal to talk to her at all.

All in all, color me puzzled. How did this get past the editor's desk?

Karina Gronnvoll, via e-mail


OBJECTIVE AND FAIR

DEAR MS. JENNIGES: I have read with interest your feature article. As I am sure you know, the issue you addressed is very complicated, one that inflames emotions and often results in injustices. But this complexity leads me to applaud your objectivity and fairness in presenting all sides of the story equally, and the care you took to place the entire story in a larger context of thousands of family abductions that occur each year.

You may like to know, however, that now there is yet another element to this kind of story. As you report, many organizations search for missing children--most significantly law enforcement, the National Center for Missing and Exploited Children, and the Polly Klaas Foundation. Their mandate is to find the children and to bring them home--what we call Recovery and Reunification. But that is where their mandates end.

The Rachel Foundation picks up where these organizations stop. We provide family reintegration services--programs for helping returning children and left-behind parents rebuild bonds that have been severed. This includes not only filling in the blanks in a child's family tree, but also providing tools to enable both the child and the left-behind parent to build a new life together, sometimes after decades of being apart. Overall, our goal is to provide the child with the opportunity to have a meaningful relationship with both parents, though sometimes this takes years to accomplish.

Once again, please accept my congratulations on a job well done!

Bob Hoch, Director of Operations, The Rachel Foundation


KENDRA DOESN'T GIVE A FUCK

EDITOR: I've lived in the Seattle area all of my life. Some might say that's not something to rave about. Especially Kathleen Wilson. Frankly--very frankly--I don't give a fuck about Kathleen's opinion on the weather, addiction, or Alice in Chains ["Living Hell," April 25]. I didn't care to see her article as the main feature, as she only seemed to use it as a tool to once again bash something she hasn't any emotional or sentimental ties to. If I wanted to read about her bitching about something, there are plenty of archived articles to fill my heart aplenty. But I didn't. I wanted to read about a musician whose music was a big part of my life growing up. But that's the article I had to search out. You want to talk about somebody's sad, sad life? Do it about someone you know.

Kendra, via e-mail


A LETTER FROM A TRUE ALICE IN CHAINS FAN

MS. WILSON: You know, I couldn't wait to see what The Stranger was going to write about Layne Staley's death. I thought maybe front-page. Definitely something more than the cold, unsympathetic one-page article you wrote. I have never enjoyed your writing that much before, but this takes the cake.

WHY didn't they get someone who WAS even a small fan to write about his life?? You should have focused on the incredible talent he brought to the Northwest, and showed some respect for all the enjoyment he has brought to the ears of Alice in Chains fans.

It was very sad to see that small, lame-ass tribute to one of the best singers of the decade. You say his voice had no liveliness to it? HELLO?? That wasn't what their music was about. This article was pitiful and empty, and in my opinion, so is your writing.

A True Alice in Chains Fan, via e-mail


VERSATILE VOICE

KATHLEEN WILSON: What were you thinking? I am sick and tired of every article I read talking more about Layne's struggle than about his art.

The fact that you could, at times, hear his desperation and despair in his singing isn't what kept him from being a great singer--it's what made him a great singer. Layne's voice was versatile; we not only heard his pain, but also we heard his longing, confusion, sensuality, humor, outrage--and yes, his hope.

Layne put heart and soul into every song, giving us a window on how he felt--that's what a great singer does, and only the best have the gift. He was born with one of the greatest voices in rock 'n' roll, but how he used it is what made him special.

Everybody knew how he lived; now everybody knows how he died. Why not remember the man--not the addiction that took him away from us. His talent transcended his condition.

For someone who was an addict herself--or a drunk, if you prefer--you ought to be a little less self-righteous and a little more compassionate.

Julie Rowe, via e-mail