There’s nothing like a good letter-to-the-editor (LTE) to remind you how much you love letters-to-the-editor.

Just last week, Jose Pienknagura of Manitou Springs penned an instant classic. The best submissions feature a broad constellation of characteristics, and Jose’s letter checked all the right boxes. In lamenting the cost of parking in his mountain town, he was opinionated, punchy, sardonic, sarcastic, cranky, humorous, and entertaining. That’s not easy to pull off in a single letter, but he delivered.

“You have to hand it to the town fathers,” Jose wrote. “You’ve managed to monetize disappointment … Manitou Springs stands as a monument to misplaced confidence — a shrine to mediocrity wrapped in mountain air. It’s not a town; it’s a toll booth with storefronts.” He ended by tagging the decision makers “Modern alchemists of avarice.”

LTE’s date back to the 18th century and hold an important place in both newspaper and cultural history. Long before the ubiquity of social media or any broadcast media, the forum provided regular citizens with a platform to both sound off and shape public opinion. Short of standing and shouting on a soapbox in your town square, ordinary folks didn’t have any outlet to communicate to a broad group of people all at once.

And even back a century ago, people would be willing to put in a letter what good manners or diplomacy might prevent them from saying out loud in public.

Virginia O’Hanlon is credited with writing what’s long been considered the most famous letter-to-the-editor ever to the New York newspaper, The Sun. The 8-year-old posed the question: “Please tell me the truth, is there a Santa Claus?”

Editor Francis Pharcellus Church’s tender and careful reply has been republished every year everywhere. “Yes, Virginia, there is a Santa Claus,” assured Church. “He exists as certainly as love and generosity and devotion exist, and you know that they abound and give to our life its highest beauty and joy.”

Whether penning a letter to the Gazette or other publications, writers don’t always fit into neat and tidy categories. But to those of us who love human nature, they provide a fascinating snapshot of not only the varied opinions out there, but also the quirks and temperaments of the writers themselves.

You have your encouragers and critics, rabid political partisans, curmudgeons, community boosters, precision freaks, teacher types, politicians setting the record straight, the intellectuals and the philosophers, as well as the Catskill comic-in-waiting.

Careful and faithful readers of the Gazette have undoubtedly gotten to know a wide variety of fellow subscribers by reading their letters. Marge Baker is passionate and prolific about a good many topics impacting the community. Whether pushing back on the ban of plastic bags in supermarkets (she recycles them), frustrated with the government forgiving student debt (why don’t they also forgive mortgage debt?) or irritated with traffic outside a new burger joint (“Whataburger? Whatamess!”), she shares her perspective.

We can always count on Devere Curtiss and David J. Baker to give President Trump the business. Then there are plenty of writers chastising them and others for criticizing the actions and policies of our 45th and 47th chief executive.

I appreciate the occasional letter that compliments or even critiques one of my columns, but I get embarrassed when an astute reader catches a mistake. Elisa Cogbill-Selders didn’t like what I wrote recently about the school board member of my dreams. But she also strafed me for denouncing “systematic racism.” I meant “systemic” but typed “systematic.” She was right to rag me. Readers can keep writers humble.

LTEs represent the kind of country I enjoy living in – a place filled with robust and even pointed debate and civil dialogue. We’d be a healthier nation if more Americans embraced and mirrored the ethos of the letters’ page in this newspaper. I may strongly disagree with what you have to say and what you believe – but I’m grateful you have the right to say it. Diverse viewpoints can be a sign of great strength.

Unfortunately, letter-writing is generally considered a dying art. If you want to know what you think about something – or someone – sit down and write. “Writing is thinking,” observed the late David McCullough. “To write well is to think clearly.” We need more of both.

So, keep the letters coming, even if you’re disagreeing or pointing out my errors. King Solomon was right: “Iron sharpens iron, and one man (or woman) sharpens the other.”

Paul J. Batura is a local writer and founder of the 4:8 Media Network. He can be reached via email Paul@PaulBatura.com or on X @PaulBatura.