Of course Larry Reynolds, who is about to spend nearly 11 years in prison for a massive Ponzi scheme, said he regrets the day he met Tom Petters. What's surprising is what he said next: "Greed and stupidity made me continue."
Short, humble, accurate. Let's hope Reynolds' words encourage others to similar self-reflection.
This being the season of soul-searching for many religions, (Ramadan ended last week; Yom Kippur begins at sundown Friday) and this being the 21st century, I have just the website to help with that.
A year-and-a-half ago, Jackie Hooper, 24, of Portland, Ore., was shocked at the sudden skiing-related death of actress Natasha Richardson, and, yes, you do need to hang on to see how all of this connects. Hooper, a paralegal, said Richardson's untimely death "reminded me about how quickly things can change." Too quickly, perhaps, for those who suddenly wake up with regret to try to do right by those they've hurt.
She created www.wouldhavesaid.com, and began traveling to schools, jails, rehabilitation facilities and retirement homes, inviting people from ages 9 to 89 to write that long-stored mea culpa.
"People got it right away," Hooper said.
Some had carried emotional baggage for decades, finally opening up to children they'd abandoned, students they'd bullied, spouses they'd abused. She's received more than 1,000 submissions so far, from the United States, Canada, Australia and the Netherlands. Letters from Minnesotans, she said, have been "sincere and unique."
Suzanne, of St. Paul, carried a painful memory for nearly half of her 36 years before reading about Hooper's site. As a teenager, she overheard a guy call her beloved grandmother, who suffered from many health issues, "an old bat," mimicking her poor posture and hesitant movements. Her grandmother didn't even hear the cruel comments.
"Still, to this day," Suzanne said, "I can't believe I sat there and didn't say anything," she said. Now she has.
"Dear Gran: The reason I'm writing is because I have always felt horrible for not standing up for you that day," she posted on wouldhavesaid.com. "I wish I had the courage to say what I was thinking."
Hooper knew she'd get compared to the wildly popular PostSecret.com, where people write anonymous confessions on self-designed postcards. Her site differs in one significant way, she said. People are not limited to a single sentence as they are on PostSecret. They can write from their hearts as much as they need to say. And, boy, do they -- about shame, sorrow, but gratitude too.
Brittney, 29, writes "to the girl in gym class" whom she teased relentlessly, unaware that the girl was autistic. Now Brittney has a child of her own who also is autistic. "I have felt in the past that the reason my son is autistic is because of how I treated you. I hope that is not the case, but if it is, I atone for it every day."
"Daddy," 35, writes to his sons, Tyler and Damion, who were taken away due to the father's drug addiction and abuse. "It's important for me that you both know you never did anything wrong. You were perfect, beautiful babies who were loved by everybody who met you. I'm sorry I failed you as a father."
Ernest, 85, who is Jewish, writes to "Mrs. Gabriel," a Christian neighbor who risked her life to protect his family from the Nazis. "You didn't have to come protect my family and put yours in greater risk. But you did, because you cared for us, and my gratitude for you remains with me always."
The concept is, admittedly, imperfect, because the victims likely will never read these letters. The bravest form of forgiveness-seeking comes from facing the person we've hurt, apologizing specifically, and then never repeating the act.
Still, there's nothing wrong with self-reflection, no shortage of those who could benefit and no telling where our efforts will lead us.
"I have to admit that I go on the site to look at it," Suzanne said of her letter to her grandmother. "By thinking about it and writing about it, it makes me kind of forgive myself.
"We all have times in our lives where we wish we could go back and change something."
Gail Rosenblum • 612-673-7350 • gail.rosenblum@startribune.com
