Letters policy
We welcome letters, but please include your full name, address and a daytime
telephone number. We edit all letters for libel, length and clarity.
Send letters to: Letters, Illinois Times. P.O. Box 5256. Springfield, Illinois
62705. Fax: (217) 753-3958. E-mail: editor@illinoistimes.com
KEEP THE KIDS AT HOME
I am writing about the situation at Oak Ridge Cemetery [Todd Spivak,
“Rest in pieces,” May 6]. I am a genealogist and I never take anyone with me
— because you can’t baby-sit and do genealogy. Desecration of tombstones is
inexcusable and inappropriate! Genealogy’s stress is excruciating and genealogists
should know that when you start to undertake a project, don’t take anybody with
you unless it’s someone who can be of help. If children cannot respect the deceased,
they should stay home. I agree with [WMAY host] Mike Wilson totally!
William Kelty
Springfield
THE EVIDENCE IS CLEAR
After reading the commentary on the Julie Rea-Harper case, I hope
that the citizens of Springfield take a stand for the release of this innocent
woman. Evidence clearly shows her innocence. I am glad to see the Illinois
Times helping people like Julie Rea-Harper and Renatta Frazier by telling
their stories. Let the truth be heard!
Cynthia K. Cubbage
Springfield
WHO KILLED JOEL?
This letter is in response to a commentary by David Brothers [“Answers
needed in the Julie Rea-Harper case,” May 13]. Actually the article should have
been titled “The Joel Kirkpatrick murder case,” but somewhere along the line,
people have forgotten who the real victim is.
Brothers also seems to have forgotten that our criminal justice system has
already been successful in this matter. Rea-Harper was found guilty by a jury
of her peers, not a jury comprised of Len Kirkpatrick’s handpicked friends.
Brothers seems to want to rehash all of the testimony and question all of the
evidence. Mr. Brothers, that was done at the trial. I attended the trial. Did
you?
Brothers seems to insinuate that if it were not for Kirkpatrick’s job as a
deputy sheriff and his [current] wife’s job as a circuit clerk in a county many
miles away, Rea-Harper would never have been prosecuted for this heinous crime.
I am sure that the Kirkpatricks wish they had that kind of political clout,
but they do not.
In response to Mr. Brother’s statement that “Kirkpatrick rained a daily shower
of tears in the courtroom.” First of all, why wouldn’t he? Joel was his only
son and meant everything to him. But in reality, Kirkpatrick usually appeared
sad and mournful, but held himself in check.
However, Julie Rea-Harper, the child’s mother, barely shed a tear during the
whole two-week trial. In fact, most of the time her face was like a stone wall.
Unusual behavior for a mother who has been accused of murdering her son? Not
if she is guilty. Also, Kirkpatrick did not need witnesses to testify to his
character like you suggested. He was not on trial.
Brothers asked in his article why haven’t Gov. Rod Blagojevich or Attorney
General Lisa Madigan ordered an investigation into poor Julie Rae-Harper’s prosecution
and conviction. I can tell you why, Mr. Brothers. It is because she murdered
her 10-year-old son in cold blood, and has no remorse. She is where she needs
to be.
Yes, I knew Joel. He was a smart, kind and gentle soul, and his mother murdered
him. Why? Only Julie Rea-Harper can tell you. Friends of Joel can only speculate
the reasons but we will never understand why. Everyone must remember that Joel
was the victim in this crime, not Julie Rea-Harper.
Becky Sanders
Charleston
POWERFUL TALE
I just listened to the Renatta Frazier story on Tavis Smiley’s NPR
show. I also read some of Dusty Rhodes’ articles. This is very good journalism
on a powerful human interest story. I don’t know any of the parties and I no
longer live in Illinois, but I was totally caught up in the story. Great job!
Anthony Parkman
San Antonio, Texas
REGARDING CHIEF ILLINIWEK
I have always appreciated the work of New England artist Andrew Wyeth.
His subject matter expressed something I could relate to in reminding me of
scenes and people along the Sangamon Valley where I lived much of my life.
I had a son growing up a generation later in a similar rural environment.
He played in the creek, the woods, and traveled the dusty rural roads as I had
done years before.
In that early time of his life when he struggled to fit into a body that was
changing by the week, trying to match emotional development with physical growth,
he expended a lot of energy tinkering and hammering and fixing an old bicycle
to suit his transportation needs.
It worked. He wired on a discarded auto antenna, tied some streamers to it,
added mud flaps to the rattling fenders and other accessories a 13-year-old
kid with a little imagination and a slim allowance would do. I admired his ambition.
He was proud of the result.
About the same time I discovered an Andrew Wyeth print of a boy on a bicycle.
I believe the title was “Young America.” The image was so accurate of a boy
riding a red bicycle wearing work shoes a little too big, a short jacket, and
a hand-me-down hat with youthful decorations.
The composition was so correct in capturing the awkward age my son was going
through. I bought the print, pleased with myself for discovering a piece of
art that would show approval and connect my son and me.
I framed it, waited for the right time to go into his room, prop it up on
the dresser, and wait for him to discover it. Later in the day, he did come
in and walked down the hall to his room. In a minute or two, he returned to
the kitchen where the rest of us were. He was distraught. His face was flush.
Tears made lines down his cheeks.
Despair swept through me. I was deeply sorry. What I thought was right and
good was absolutely wrong and very humiliating for him. The picture and my efforts
did not connect us but widened the gap between us.
It was clear that nothing I could say would ever change the way he felt. When
something is done so unfitting to someone as they perceive it, all the talking
in the world isn’t going to make it right. It’s best to make your apologies,
be humble and hope with time and a little understanding forgiveness with take
place.
That is the same way I feel about the University of Illinois Indian mascot.
He is not an Indian. He is not a chief. If an Indian council is sincere in saying
they are uncomfortable in the way they are being portrayed, that the university
is not honoring them but embarrassing them, it’s time to listen.
All the heavy-handed posturing, alumni chattering and academic explanations
will not change their minds or make it right. When compromise is not possible,
leadership must step in. It is way past time for the University of Illinois
to display understanding and statesmanship, be humble, make amends, and bid
farewell to the chief.
There is so much more to the University of Illinois than a mascot no longer
appropriate for our time.
Roy L. French
Virginia, Ill.
CORRECTION
Robert Brooks is the director of housing of S.A.R.A. Center. His title
was incorrect in a story last week about homeless service providers [“Limited
safety net,” May 13].
This article appears in May 20-26, 2004.
