ROBERT SIEGEL, host:
And now, we turn to your letters. Yesterday, we brought you the story of McKay Hatch. He's the 15-year-old from South Pasadena, California, who has launched a personal crusade against swearing, calling his movement the No Cussing Club, a movement that includes this rap video.
(Soundbite of rap video)
Mr. MCKAY HATCH: (Rapping) Every other word was burning up my ears, So I took a new stand and I challenged all my peers. If you wanna hang with us, I don't wanna hear you cuss. If you wanna hang with us, I don't wanna hear you cuss. No cuss...
MICHELE NORRIS, host:
Well, our coverage of McKay's campaign provoked a colorful debate on the Web page.
SIEGEL: Jonathan Harrowitz(ph) posted this. Maybe it's because I'm from New Jersey. But I love profanity. When used sparingly and appropriately, it sounds beautiful. It can feel great, it can be very funny, and it's never hurt anyone. Don't get me wrong, I'm a very nice guy with a good job in the helping profession, but I love to curse. Language without cursing is like mild salsa, light beer, or a flag football. It's an intentionally weakened bastardization of the real deal.
NORRIS: But several commended McKay's efforts. Keith McDiffit(ph) of Mount Gilead, Ohio, writes, it was refreshing to hear your story on the anti-cussing crusader yesterday afternoon. Kudos to this young man and the group who is joining him.
SIEGEL: Well, it wasn't all cursing on our show yesterday. We also invited listeners to chime in on a more serious concern, the economic crisis and what to call it. Steven Diamond(ph) of Joshua Tree, California, took a page from history with the greater Depression.
NORRIS: Well, Jason Deitrick(ph) of Harrisburg, Pennsylvania, offered the great comeuppance, and Barbara Webster(ph) of Burnsville, North Carolina, says, let's just call it what it is, the big adjustment.
SIEGEL: Well, now a note of remembrance for a woman whose story we followed over the past few years. Ethel Williams(ph) of New Orleans never lost hope about moving back into her home in the Upper Ninth Ward. It had been ravaged by flood waters when the levees broke after Hurricane Katrina.
NORRIS: In the spring of 2006, a year and a half after the storm, President Bush stood with his arm around Mrs. Williams and she became a national symbol of hope that help finally would come.
Former President GEORGE W. BUSH: We've got a strategy to help the good folks down here rebuild. Part of it has to do with funding, part of it has to do with housing, and a lot of it has to do with encouraging volunteers from around the United States to come down and help people like Mrs. Williams. So we're proud to be here with you, Mrs. Williams, and God bless you.
Ms. ETHEL WILLIAMS: I'm proud to be here, Mr. President. And I won't ever - I can't ever forget you.
Former President BUSH: Well, you need to forget - remember those people a lot quicker than remembering me because they're the ones who are going to help. She promised to cook me a meal.
Ms. WILLIAMS: Oh, yes. I'm going to...
(Soundbite of laughter)
Ms. WILLIAMS: And I...
Former President BUSH: Once they get the house up and going.
Ms. WILLIAMS: Thank all the volunteers and everybody that's helping to make this - everything work.
SIEGEL: Well, never bitter, Mrs. Williams visited the White House at the president's invitation. Even last year, her home still in ruins, she considered herself to be one of the lucky ones. She finally got a check for more than $100,000 to rebuild her home on Pauline Street, and she was talking about cooking that Gumbo for President Bush.
NORRIS: The house was completed and furnished last month at Christmas time. But by that time, she was too sick with cancer to move in. Ethel Williams' daughter called to let us know that she had died this past Saturday at the age of 75.