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All I could do was shake Jones’s hand and thank him for coming.
Mike Jones and I spoke on the phone a few times and exchanged emails, but we didn’t meet again in person until a couple of months later when I returned to Denver.
Whether a journalist has a “baby face” like Matthew is irrelevant; it also doesn’t give Broverman license to describe my reporting (in a book he didn’t read) as “lurid” and “cruel.” Media Matters makes no contribution to the advancement of desperately needed public discourse with their Mc Carthy-like slander of calling me an “ambulance-chaser.”In a series of nine articles on none of which offers a shred of hard evidence to refute the book’s findings, Media Matters characterized me as a “hate-crime denier” who was trying to “de-gay” Matthew, and an “egomaniac.” When one of their reporters, Joe Strupp, contacted me for an interview, to which I heartily agreed, he, like Broverman, refused to discuss the book’s actual contents.
I also gave Strupp the cell number of Shepard prosecutor Cal Rerucha, so he could verify key facts in the book. Many of his closest friends had told me truth was important to him, and that knowing Matt as they did, they believed he would have wanted everything out of the closet, especially the actual circumstances that led to his own painful and tragic me notwithstanding, I was hosted for thirty-seven book events around the country, and at every one of them I had the privilege of engaging in meaningful conversations.
I was standing behind the last row in the audience — almost packed now — when a good-looking man with a strong, muscular build, leaning against a stack of bookshelves, caught my eye.
We’d already established a safety routine during the book tour, with him watching my back everywhere we went.
The man introduced himself as Mike Jones and said he’d heard an interview I’d done on Denver radio.
was first published, Tattered Cover, a renowned independent bookstore in Denver, hosted me for a reading and book signing.
As I arrived that evening and descended a wide staircase to the store’s spacious underground level — part of a renovated old theater — I could feel a nervous buzz in the room.
Venues included the San Francisco and Philadelphia public libraries (the former event was sponsored by the James C.