The Jersey Girls

I don't know if you have followed the uproar in the past week about Ann Coulter's new book, Godless: The Church of Liberalism, in which she make disparaging remarks about 4 of the 9/11 widows. I agree with her point of view and was interested to see these letters in USA Today, supporting her:

Hidden dialogue revealed

Ann Coulter might be a wild woman on a keyboard, but her book Godless: The Church of Liberalism captures hidden dialogue that has been alive in kitchens, at barbecues and on ferries in New Jersey for the past four years.

As they clawed their way to center stage to blame America for 9/11, the four widows who became known as the "Jersey Girls" marketed their grief to the largest TV audiences, served as mouthpieces for John Kerry and others, and used the money donated by a nation to leave their kids home to heal themselves as they hit campaign trails and engaged in disgraceful public conduct at the most important investigative commission hearing of our time.

Coulter reveals the unspoken fact that there are a lot of people out here repulsed by the well-publicized and self-absorbed attempts by four women to achieve contrived fame off the backs of their murdered husbands and at the expense of all who suffered and died on 9/11. The debate is long overdue.

Tish Ferguson, Point Pleasant, N.J.

Glare of spotlight

Actions have consequences. When the four "Jersey Girls" who Ann Coulter criticizes became activists, they compromised their position.

We all respect and are sorry for their loss, but they are the ones who made a decision to move to the political arena and therefore must endure all that comes with it. It's a place where those who agree with their assertions and charges build them up. It is also a place where those who disagree with them have every right to explore and challenge their motives and positions.

Coulter sees what the Jersey Girls have become and is challenging how they have used their status. They opened the door for Coulter's and everyone else's assessment of them when they became activists.

Steve Auvil, Macungie, Pa.