Once, in the same week, for the same edition of the newspaper I was editor of, I was told that I was a commie pinko and an ignorant gun-loving redneck by two different readers. We live for weeks like that. It means we told the truth and did our jobs.

Every once in a while, I check the comment section under a news article and wonder if maybe the Internet should come with a breathalyzer. Because the things people say to journalists—often to local, small-town, barely-making-it print journalists—should honestly come with a warning: “Might cause hair loss and a sudden craving to live off-grid.”

Print journalists in particular are talked to like they’re wayward puppies who peed on the rug. Not mad, just disappointed. And always ending with: “Shame on you!”

Do you know who says “shame on you” the most? Not our mothers. Not our pastors. Not even a disapproving Aunt Doris. No, the reigning champion of moral finger-wagging is… news readers. Bonus points if they send it in ALL CAPS, preferably via fax machine.

Before there were online comments, there were letters, emails, and phone calls. We have been blessed with voicemails that begin with “I just read your little story…” and end with “…you should be fired.” Occasionally, there’s a biblical quote in there for good measure.

I used to have a guy who would call me every other Thursday to rant about something he read in the newspaper. I never could get him to identify himself, and he would just rant at me until the booze wore off or his wife got home. Eventually, I saved his number in the phone as “Thursday” and stopped answering his calls. I’m about 80% certain he was an elected official, and to this day I don’t know what he was going through that made him so lonely that he would want to call and rage-bomb me twice a month.

Sometimes I wonder, who has the time? Who wakes up, reads the morning paper, and thinks, “You know what would really round out my Thursday? Calling the editor to inform them that their front-page teaser about a crossword puzzle was a personal attack on my HVAC situation.”

There are so many better ways to spend a day. Start a garden. Write haiku. Take up basket weaving, go clean people’s septic tanks. Just… not the telephone to berate someone over a missing puzzle or comic.

But trolls—like mold and in-laws—used to thrive in the shadows. The Internet didn’t invent them, it just turned on the floodlights and gave them usernames, avatars, and the unearned confidence of a thousand keyboard warriors.

But see, journalists are a different breed. I once heard of a journalist who was writing a book and pinned each rejection letter on the wall until one wall of his living room was rejection letters. Most of us have skin that is thicker than the skulls of our readers and we consider these rants and attacks on our character to be badges of honor.

Once, in the same week, for the same edition of the newspaper I was editor of, I was told that I was a commie pinko and an ignorant gun-loving redneck by two different readers. We live for weeks like that. It means we told the truth and did our jobs.

Also, nobody’s going to call a journalist to tell us what a good job we’re doing. No, we just catch whatever gets thrown at us in rage, so most of us keep a file or a wall of shame where we put our love notes from the public. Here are a few of my favorites — or at least what I was able to round up while preparing this column.

  • “Pathetic excuse for a human being and article. Shame on you for even publishing this absolute garbage.” (Thanks, Anonymous Commenter. We treasure your input. By the way, your IP address matches your user account, so even though you tried to be anonymous — I know who you are.)
  • The saga of Ethel and the Missing Crossword Puzzle, which unfolded over roughly 27 emails and included the phrase “I may be crazy, but I’m not stupid!” and ended with an offer to deliver newspapers if it would fix delivery issues and emotional trauma. Oh, her first email also ended with “Shame on you!” Ashamed, I was not. Also, she probably spent more time and got more entertainment out of over two-dozen emails than she would have if she had gotten that puzzle.
  • Then there are the readers who can’t distinguish news articles from opinion pieces. This used to drive me crazy until I got to know more of these people and realized they can’t distinguish between fact and fiction or reality and fantasy. Case in point, one of many readers who equated a mildly left-leaning op-ed with the demise of the Republic and demanded an editorial from someone who “honors its past!” — presumably that time when half the country was at war with the other half over whether or not it was proper to own other people and make them do all your work for you. But, it’s the newspaper that should be ashamed somehow.
  • And of course, there was the parent outraged over an article describing their child as anything short of a future Rhodes Scholar. Her email included a motivational quote, a demand that we retract the entire article, and a firm belief that the newspaper and a sports program for low income children are apparently in a conspiracy cahoots to libel her entire family tree. The article was what most would call a “fluff piece” on how a local sports program was helping children in the community. Apparently, that is something we should be ashamed to tell people about.

I share these to point out: Journalism is not for the faint of heart. We’re not only trying to inform the public, we’re doing it while being yelled at by bottom-feeders who read at a sixth grade level and comprehend at a third grade level, all the while insisting that they are the brightest of the bunch.

So the next time you’re tempted to shout “Shame on you!” at a local journalist, consider this: we’re just trying to survive, report the news, and maybe, someday, get a full lunch break. Be kind. Or at least be entertaining. We’ll take either. Also, keep in mind, what you send us will be kept for ages and passed around in newsrooms. Some of your grandparents are still being mocked in newsrooms to this day for letters they wrote in a fit of rage over a word usage choice they didn’t think was proper because their third grade teacher taught them differently.

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Once, in the same week, for the same edition of the newspaper I was editor of, I was told that I was a commie pinko and an ignorant gun-loving redneck by two different readers. We live for weeks like that. It means we told the truth and did our jobs.
B.T. Clark
Publisher at 

B.T. Clark is an award-winning journalist and the Publisher of The Georgia Sun. He has 25 years of experience in journalism and served as Managing Editor of Neighbor Newspapers in metro Atlanta for 15 years and Digital Director at Times-Journal Inc. for 8 years. His work has appeared in several newspapers throughout the state including Neighbor Newspapers, The Cherokee Tribune and The Marietta Daily Journal. He is a Georgia native and a fifth-generation Georgian.