Posted: Friday, 05 February 2010 11:18AM
Thanks For Listening
Steve Corbett Reporting
Friday, February 05, 2010
Time and time again I tell callers to “Corbett” that they cannot spread rumors on my live time news radio show. If the rumors are false and hurt somebody’s reputation, the damage is done even when the truth emerges.
Most people understand that it’s impossible to get a genie back into the bottle. And nobody likes to have their reputation in the hands of a reckless spirit.
So I don’t know what possessed “Rube Lomax” to write what appears in the current edition of the Diamond City and Electric City weekly newspapers. I do know that what is written is not only reckless but completely false as well. I know the whole truth in this case because the untrue story is about me.
Here’s what the “barbed wire” column says: “The local rumor mill is grinding that Scranton carpetbagger and WILK whiner Steve Corbett is trying hard to latch his wannabe star on a nationally syndicated FOX radio show through his worship of all things Sara Palin. Allegedly, he’s working to impress Greta Van Sustern via her husband John P. Coale, who worked locally on the Hillary Clinton campaign. Corbett became acquainted with Coale through the Rodham brothers (his good buddies and Hillary’s wearisome siblings) which is why he’s now got his sights on a national show, hence his lips on the derriere of all things Palin-related.
“Perhaps he and Caribou Barbie could team up together. Now that would make for some good talk radio.”
I hope you don’t believe what appears in the Lomax column – including the alleged writer’s incorrect spelling of Sarah Palin’s first name and Greta Van Susteren’s last name.
If you do believe what the newspapers published both in print and online, you might wonder if I’ve been lying to you as I repeatedly stressed my commitment to WILK and Northeastern Pennsylvania since moving “home” a little more than three years ago.
If that demon seed planted in your brain takes root, my credibility is damaged.
Your trust in me is undermined.
The reputation for honesty that I work very hard to maintain is impugned.
But some people likely will believe what they read.
And for that I’m very sorry.
Back in 2006, when I was living in California and contemplating moving back to Northeastern Pennsylvania, I spoke with two newspaper executives who wanted me to consider working for them in Boulder, Colorado. They told me how nice Boulder was and how my lifestyle and politics would fit in. They painted Boulder as a dream destination, which, for many people is absolutely true.
But I had something else in mind.
“I’d rather be in Scranton,” I told the publisher.
Three years later, I’ll take the cold, gray chaos of this city where my grandfather moved from Ireland in about 1904, the city that five generations of my father’s side of the family have called home, Colorado or California or anywhere else. I’ll take hard coal country over anywhere in the world. And I’ll face off against anybody who spreads or condones lies to the contrary.
My wife and I bought a big old house in the Hill section that’s loaded with stained-glass and hard wood that shines and sometimes seems to breathe because our home is so alive.
We put down our own deep roots, built a Zen garden of stillness and committed our lives to making each other and the people with whom we share our city and region as happy and as empowered as possible.
Every day I encourage people to find their own voice, to stand against generations of political corruption and express themselves in the fight to make Northeastern Pennsylvania a stronger, better and more honest community.
My wife has dedicated herself to working as a community organizer upon whom her co-workers depend to help them in the fight for what is right and true and honest. That’s how neighborhoods grow. That’s how people grow. That’s how life gets better for everybody.
I’m 58 and wanted to live in Scranton every since I was a little boy and my father sat on the edge of my bed after I said my prayers telling me tales about growing up in the Minooka section of Scranton. To Shamus, good old Minooka was the world and remained that way until the day he died.
After all those years, I finally made it. I don’t want to go anywhere else. I been someplace else and nothing matched what I know and love in this town that I’m proud to call home – this town for which I’m willing to fight and sacrifice and ask for more.
Still, I worry that some of you might believe what “Rube Lomax” wrote, that you might think I’m using you to get someplace better. For me, there is no such place. The best is exactly where I am.
Thanks for listening.
And I mean that from the bottom of my heart.
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