Mr. Stiltman scores again

More often than one might think, my last name gets mangled when people try to pronounce or spell it. It's amazing how many variations I've encountered for a basically simple name, i.e., Silt - man. Once a guy looked at my name and spelled it out, "S i l t m a n - Stiltman, right?"

It's especially disheartening to get an article published, only to have it ruined because my name was misspelled. Some decades ago I mentioned this problem to an acquaintance who was an editor for the Washington Star and handled the letters they received. He suggested I write a piece about my propensity for writing letters to the editor because he had an idea for an inside joke.

My copy of the letter published in the Washington Star is so old that it is almost illegible (see link). I will reproduce it here and reveal the inside joke at the end. I have left out perhaps 25% of the letter for the sake of brevity and to minimize boredom.


Mr. Stiltman scores again.

At last count, over a hundred of my letters to the editor have been published in the communities in which I've lived. This seems a good time to reflect on some of the highlights of this unusual (some might say dubious) achievement, and perhaps even to ponder why a person would pursue such an endeavor.
There was, at least initially, a lot of righteous indignation, coupled with a conspicuous lack of courage. My first published letter, for example, appeared in the El Paso Times in the early 1950's above a pseudonym. While living in Montgomery, Alabama in the late 1950's, I finally mustered the nerve to use my own name.
Years later, in the Washington, D.C. area, the element of apprehension (which nut is going to call me this time?) was largely replaced by other feelings. As each letter appeared in print, I experienced a kind of instant ego-gratification (there's bit of a kick in seeing one's letter next to, say, Henry Kissinger's) as well as a feeling of participation in the political and social issues of the day.
There was even an occasional congratulatory call. Ironically, this often tended to make me drop my guard and get badly zinged. A case in point was the fellow who began, "It's wonderful we live in a country where everyone is free to express their opinions..." But he added, "No matter how perverted." It took a while to recover from that one.
In those days,I attempted to make my point, not in a deadly serious way, but with humor (although I sometimes slipped, none to subtly, into sarcasm). Being somewhat enamored of the better political cartoonists, I suppose I saw myself doing for the Letters to the Editor column what those guys were doing with their cartoons. My intent was, I'm sure, to slay the dragons of intolerance and ignorance, not with the heavy sword of preachments, but rather with the sharp rapier of humor and wit.
Shedding the more extravagant of my illusions of grandeur, I then introduced new wrinkles into what had become a hobby or diversion as much as anything else. For example, I had the same letter published in two and then three papers on the same day. Near the end of this orgy of self-indulgence, two of my letters appeared in the same paper on the same day.
Looking back, I feel I was motivated by several things: idealism, vanity, anger and perhaps just a desire to communicate. At least I'd like to think I've risen above the childish motive of simply wanting to get my name into print.
By the way, if you print this, be sure to spell my name correctly.

David Siltman

Note to reader: I find it amusing to look at the last sentence and then back at the headline. Even funnier is that the editor took pains to insure that the misspelling actually made the final version. Unfortunately,someone kept trying to correct it, but they finally got it wrong.