I grew up in New Jersey, a state where rumors abound. Maybe it’s because the East Coast has seasons, and people need to keep occupied during long, cold winters. Or perhaps people want to hurt others to make themselves feel better. I’ve never been a rumor monger because I’ve experienced the havoc a rumor can wreak and documented it in my memoir What Lies Within.
While growing up in Hillside, I heard schoolmates spread rumors about my sister. Nothing she did could dispel them. For example, when she gave birth shortly after graduating from grammar school and returned home six months later, the baby’s father wanted to hurt her. He went to the high school where my sister had enrolled and asked, “Who started the rumor that Blanche Berger had a baby?” Blanche came home crying that day and never returned to high school.
My mother Ruth never spoke ill of anyone. She would certainly not share gossip or spread rumors because well-bred people did not behave that way. She followed the Golden Rule: Do unto others whatever you would have them do to you. My mother imparted her values to me by the way she lived. The rumors about my sister hurt our family deeply.
Last week I read an article about how powerful rumors can be. It gave an example of the U.S. government’s attempts to squelch rumors during World War II. The more the government tried to dispel a rumor, the more it grew. The article’s author concluded that emotionally charged stories may carry more credence in some circles. Ultimately, I believe that rumors and gossip destroy good people’s efforts to do the right thing.
People questioned the exploits of a main character, Horace Ashton, in my upcoming book, The Spirit of Villarosa, written with Horace’s son Marc. Yet Horace’s adventures were all documented in the media. In the end, his truth prevailed, as will mine.