Letters for September 12, 2019

Dennis Myers

Dennis Myers stood like a gentle mountain above those children who were fortunate enough to be his friends. His slouchy saunter and wry chuckle belied a fierce heart burning with deep feeling. Children easily sensed Dennis' integrity and his earnest devotion to justice. Sometimes his strength was dearly needed outside the newsroom. While the whole world might otherwise slither with scary monsters, Dennis was a paladin.

Dennis was Nevada. He knew the secret tales of Nevada history and told them better than any fable. To a child friend, Dennis could bear an almost magical omnipresence; he existed both at a dinner table and virtually on the TV or in the papers. But his was no empty celebrity; Dennis transcended such mendacities. A child could feel, if not always understand, how he was making the world better—by sharpening questions to take aim at jaded power. One had to viscerally respect him—not just as an adult but as an indomitable spirit. Dennis taught me that Clark Kent was the real hero.

If there is to be a lasting memorial to Dennis worthy to carry his name, it can not be cut of the usual stone. No award or ceremony can signify the richness Dennis gave to Nevada and all the lives he touched. Rather, I beg his colleagues to seriously and soberly take his life as their model. Dennis' investigative journalism has become dangerously rare in these decayed times.

However, Dennis gave you the perfect playbook. His legacy is a journalistic primer. Dennis showed you how to bite, how to investigate. He grounded all his work in an encyclopedic education in history. Facts were a granite foundation to Dennis. His only currency was conscience. His fuel was steady determination. He didn't grovel for “access” or pander for patronage. He slashed his own path into the gilded halls of power and demanded the truth. If Dennis meant anything to you at all, please … continue this work. Dennis may have moved on from our world. But, as a society, we can not afford to see his life end.

Brigantia Nivatugena

Moapa Valley

Rest in peace, Dennis Myers, one of the greatest journalists of our generation in Northern Nevada—a true and entertaining voice that will be sorely missed.

Chaco Mohler

Tahoe City

Good tips

Re “Prepping for disaster” (Feature, Aug. 29):

It is good to see you speaking to “prepping for disaster.”

When infrastructure goes down for any appreciable time, smart money sez you should have some real preps. We need a minimum of two quarts of safe water to daily drink and knowledge on how to pasteurize/filter unclean water. A $20 bill can buy over 20 pounds of rice and beans; while not perfect, “balanced” nutrition, it may keep the pangs of terrible hunger at bay.

And remember, if/when the power goes out for more than a few days, pull all that stuff out of your rapidly defrosting freezer and make a huge barbecue to help feed all your neighbors. Be a shame to waste all that good food. In a true, long emergency, when the trucks quit running, we will need our neighbors and collective smarts to get through it. Live long and prosper.

Craig Bergland


Screw Starbucks

Starbucks no longer offers any reading material at their stores. Reno News & Review is among the victims. I asked the assistant manager why the RN&R wasn't there anymore and he said “corporate decision …” I told him it was a deal-breaker for me, and he nodded and said many customers have said similar things. I've been going to this Starbucks store for a decade as it is very close to my home. I liked going in on a Friday or Saturday, grabbing the RN&R and checking movie reviews, Modern World and the best horoscopes on the orb. Oh, and Bruce Van Dyke. I'm looking for a mom-and-pop near me that has the RN&R. Starbucks is removing a great tie to the local community, so I'm down the road.

Kelley Shewmaker



Re “Good grief” (Musicbeat, Sept. 5):

In last week's Musicbeat column, we referred to the keyboardist of the Peanuts Gang Trio as “Nick” Sexton. The artist's name is Chris Sexton. We regret the error.