I love a lot of things about this job, but most of all, I love the letters. Every week or so, I receive an envelope in the mail without a return address.
Sometimes it’s a letter. Usually type written and rather kooky. Other times, the letter makes sense. Not long ago I got one about concerns that the San Diego city fire chief now has to report to far more people than she ever had to before Jerry Sanders took office. The result, the anonymous letter said, has been that nothing gets done.
Sounded like an interesting angle that I might want to follow up on.
Other times, I receive just documents. Each time I see them, my eyes light up as I imagine that I might be opening the next Pelican Brief or something. But nine times out of 10, they are incomprehensible. And since they come anonymously, I can’t check with the source.