Welcome to reality
Having people upset with me isn’t anything new; it comes with the territory. This was a gem from yesterday that I felt like sharing:
“You have not right to post peoples information without their consent. How dare you.”
That was received via Facebook messenger. I didn’t bother to clean up the grammar, but I did reply and asked what the individual was talking about. I had no idea what that was in reference to.
“The accident on Monday June 30 on 70s and Faulkner Springs.”
That wreck was actually on a Tuesday, but I didn’t correct her. I did say, “Accident reports are public record in the state of Tennessee. Additionally, when out in public, you have no reasonable expectation of privacy. Just quoting the law. If you don’t approve, contact your state representatives.”
Not the words they wanted to hear, obviously.
“You know you are absolutely right they are public knowledge, but it’s not up to you to make it public knowledge. If someone wants to know they can go to it. It’s not up to you to put it in your hands to spread it across social media. How dare you?”
My thoughts after this statement: There are people in America who make millions of dollars sharing people’s arrest videos online. That’s perfectly legal and so is what I do for a living – making much less, goes without saying. Having media cover wrecks with injuries isn’t new to anyone, unless you’ve been living under a rock. While I don’t enjoy it, it is part of my job responsibilities. I’ve had to cover wrecks involving my own family members.
Let’s continue with this saga.
After the second “how dare you,” from her, I replied, “I dare because I know the law. I’m a journalist with 21 years’ experience. I’m currently working with Warren County Way, an online publication. As an aside, Main Street Media was also on scene covering that wreck. Are you also mad at them?”
She did not answer that question, but continued undeterred, “A journalist would know that they need a permission. They just can’t slander somebody’s name across the internet thank God I don’t follow you and I would love to know what your name is. How about your plaster that all over the internet.”
Again, I didn’t correct the sentence structure, because I’m just not feeling very generous towards this person. In my personal and professional life, I ignore it and will help people only when asked. No one is perfect, not even yours truly. However, she’s racking up some irritation miles with me at this point.
My thoughts after that last statement: My name has been plastered all over the internet for 21 years. Once, I was on a first date, and the guy stated that it’s his custom to Google women’s names and see what pops up. I told him to go ahead. I was honest, “If you Google my name right now, you’re going to find that I’m embroiled in controversy over something I had recently written. If you dig deep into online posts and comments, you likely to see some death threats.” He looked at me in disbelief, but it was true. I stand by what I wrote, then and now.
Let’s get back to this monstrosity.
“I do not need permission,” I wrote back. “I’ve already explained the law to you. My name is not a secret. It goes on every article I write. You’d know that, if you subscribed. Correction: slander is a false verbal statement. When it’s a false written statement, it’s called libel. Neither apply to this situation. The truth is an absolute defense to both accusations. I think we are done here.”
The last spiteful statement was meant to hurt, but it did not. She stated, “I don’t subscribe and never will thanks to you and your ethics”
Because I don’t believe for a minute that she’s been living under a rock and has no knowledge of how media or the internet works, her true intent here is to challenge the coverage of her loved ones’ wreck, a crash they caused. She’s perfectly okay with media coverage of other people’s wrecks. There was one the day before, on Monday, which is why she likely got the days mixed up. She saw coverage of that one and said nothing. Interesting, right?
Welcome to reality, girl. Your family isn’t immune to misfortune, and neither is mine. The best thing you can hope for, when it happens, is that the media doesn’t get wind of it. I hate to be blunt, but there’s no other way to say it. I take no joy in covering the misfortune of others; however, it is a job requirement for the profession I chose 21 years ago.
Let’s end this column with some sarcastic humor: There goes another satisfied customer.