Showing up matters, even across the aisle
Standing in the middle of a crowd of about a thousand people on April 5 — as the only Republican I could see — was a moment I won’t forget. All around me were signs and banners expressing deep frustration, even anger, toward the current administration.

So why was I there? Because these are my neighbors. They’re the business owners working hard to keep their doors open. They’re the election judges I’ve served alongside. They’re the people I live alongside every day in this valley. We may not agree on politics — but we still share a home. And that matters.

There was another reason I came, though. I’ve been watching a canyon widen between us. It feels like everything is dividing us — restaurants, coffee shops, neighborhoods — even friendships. And the more distance we create, the easier it becomes to turn people into enemies. It’s easy to hate someone you’ve never sat down with. It’s easy to assume the worst when you’ve never had a real conversation.

That’s why I showed up — not to change minds, but to build bridges. To listen. When I told a few people I was a Republican, everything shifted. I started hearing the questions — honest, emotional, sometimes angry: “How could you support someone with no regard for the law?” “How could you stand by an oligarchy?” “How can you support a party that seems to silence opposition, manipulate the courts, and walk all over the Constitution?”

These weren’t just talking points. These were the real concerns of people who are genuinely afraid for the direction of the country. And I’ll be honest — there wasn’t a debate I could win in that moment. But I realized something more important: for some of them, I might’ve been the first Republican they’d ever talked to. Just by being there — by showing up with open hands instead of closed fists — I believe it meant something.

I don’t know what lies ahead for this country. But I do know this: I will never turn my back on my community. Not because it’s easy, but because it’s home. We’re all in this together. And it’s time we start acting like it.

Caleb Waller, Silt

Silence after Carbondale assault is unacceptable

On November 2, 2024, an 82-year-old woman in Carbondale was sexually assaulted in her home. A community meeting was held two days later. Police asked for video footage, promised updates, and emphasized their commitment to the investigation. Since then, only one formal update has been issued — a press release dated November 12 and posted on the Carbondale Police Department website.

That release thanked the community for support, acknowledged the trauma of the incident, offered safety tips and emotional health resources, and concluded with: “No additional information will be released at this time.”

That was five months ago.

Since then, the silence has been absolute. No public updates from police. No reporting from local media. No word on whether the DNA evidence was processed. No confirmation of leads. No clarity about whether the suspect is still at-large. No discussion of what steps, if any, have been taken to improve community safety or institutional response.

It now feels as though this horrific assault has simply been allowed to fade from view. And that is unacceptable.

Let’s be clear: the Carbondale Police Department will not necessarily be the driver of public accountability. That responsibility lies with the press.

The media cannot wait for law enforcement to decide when to speak. It is the role of journalists to ask questions, file records requests, revisit cases, and follow up — especially when the public’s safety and the community’s trust are at stake.

This is not about identifying the victim or sensationalizing the crime. It is about ensuring that serious, violent incidents do not disappear into silence, and that survivors are not forgotten. Journalism is not a relay system waiting for press releases to hand off; it’s an active pursuit of truth.

It’s time for our local newsrooms to re-engage this story. Not to provoke fear, but to demonstrate that we are a community that doesn’t look away.

Note: I previously contributed to The Sopris Sun as a freelance reporter. I do not currently have an editorial or staff role with the paper. These views are my own.

Jeanne Souldern, Glenwood Springs

Library debates need less framing, more facts
A picture’s worth 1,000 words, but how it’s framed often shows its true value. Inconvenient realities exist, like an ex in a family picture. Yet they can be cut out and the picture reframed without a daily reminder of bad decisions.

Some frame the library debate similarly, piggybacking media hype about perceived loss of freedom in a new regime. While a convenient emotional tactic, equating the BOCC’s duty to appoint trustees to the library (a public entity accountable to us) to authoritarian overreach or religious zealotry is logical fallacy.

I’ve never liked being told my own motives. It’s an egregious imposition on my personhood. My desire to set obscene literary content in an adult-only area with a database update that only lets adults check it out is pretty basic. Stemming from minors in GarCo encountering disturbing material — not from some Project 2025 I’ve never read. No group has recruited me; my engagement is unfunded. It doesn’t align with preference of outside groups, like Indivisible Action and Indivisible Project, partnering with Protect Our GarCo Libraries for their April 5 event, but I don’t have to share their goal to have good-hearted motivation or be truthful in experience.

Sadly, the Post Independent’s bias helps uphold framing that it was “never about saving our children” and is about “book banning.” Accuse as desired, I suppose, but it won’t change facts. I want kids protected from graphic violence and early sexualization just as they can’t get R-rated movies until old enough. Attending meetings, I’ve shared ideas to improve the GCPLD. This isn’t scaring anyone away from enjoying the library. It’s civic duty to contribute to community, growing it.

Those affected by the frame are those choosing not to look outside of it. Readers can decide for themselves. The PI could fairly interview all board members. The GCPLD records meetings; listen, decide for yourself. Evaluate book content, see what you think. Come to meetings, get engaged. Choose for yourself, an informed individual, but to get all facts, you’ll have to look outside the frame.

Tela Forehand, Silt

Remembering Gen Doak’s spirit and library legacy
I had the good fortune to work at our past two libraries, the one on 9th where YouthZone is now and the one on Cooper where the fire station stands, with Genevieve Doak as my boss. Gen was Glenwood’s librarian for 24 years, and she was wonderful. She knew her patrons well and often recommended books they’d enjoy. And she knew her books! I remember a man coming in saying, “I don’t know the title or the author but the cover is orange,” and Gen found the book for him right away. An avid gardener, one summer she had a policy — if you brought your book back on time, you got a zucchini. If you brought it back overdue, you got two zucchinis!

Gen presided over the change from the old card catalog to the computerized collection and supervised the move to the “new” library on 9th with an army of volunteers. She could be tough but also wise and kind, and she truly loved inspiring children to enjoy reading. Once when a boy told her he didn’t like to read, she said he just hadn’t found the right book, and she took the time to choose one for him that had him coming back for more.I wonder what she would think of the current situation of county commissioners wanting to dictate policy, and I’m guessing she’d say, “Let the library people do their job!

Deborah Williams, Glenwood Springs