I would like to thank the many of you who have written kind notes in recent weeks, expressing support for the Rocky Mountain News in this time of uncertainty.

It means a lot to hear from you.

It's clear from your words that despite the fact that most of you have never met in person any of us here at the paper, you feel like we're part of your family.

That's incredibly gratifying.

Unfortunately, I've also been struck by how riled up some writers who have a lower opinion of the Rocky can get. Their notes seem to relish the fact that the Rocky - if a buyer isn't found - could soon be gone. Good riddance, is their message.

These notes are typically sent anonymously, posted on our Web site or delivered directly to me with no signature. I don't know why people seem to get so much pleasure from being cruel. In my view, their words reflect only on them, not on us.

It's one thing to express harsh criticism in the public marketplace of ideas - to argue, for example, that coverage of this or that issue was unfair or biased. Why, we not only publish criticism of ourselves from two paid media critics, we actually invite it in our weekly Talk Back to the Media forum on Saturdays in the Opinion section. But it's another thing when folks seem to enjoy dancing on the graves they argue we've dug for ourselves. If only life were so simple.

In a newsroom, we're often immersed in difficult and emotional times for others. Every day we write about death and conflict, loss and pain. We encounter people at their best and worst moments.

What's critical for us, as journalists, is never to lose sight of the humanity of the people we cover. Or to lose contact with our own humanity. Sometimes the public sees the paparazzi and thinks that's actually how mainstream journalists operate. They see an image of vultures.

We hate that picture. It doesn't reflect how we work. Yes, we're often there at the worst of times for people. But we're there because the moments matter to the larger community, whether it's a shooting on a downtown street or an avalanche in the mountains.

The attention to the fate of the Rocky has put those of us who work here in an unusual position. In this case, we are the story.

It's not a comfortable feeling. But I don't think it's all bad for journalists to experience what it's like to be on the other side of the camera or microphone, to feel what it's like to be under scrutiny.

It's a reminder not to be too quick to jump to conclusions about those we cover, to remember that they are human, too.

One of the benefits of being a journalist is that we get to know people from all walks of life with all kinds of approaches to life.

I was struck recently by the humanity shown by Broncos coach Mike Shanahan in his news conference the day after the announcement that he had been let go by the team.

Shanahan is known as the "mastermind," and the intensity of his game-day face seems as impenetrable as a stacked fourth-and-goal defensive line. It's hard to imagine ratcheting anybody's emotions tighter.

Yet in the news conference he seemed like a different person - open, even vulnerable.

Yes, he's someone who's led his team to the pinnacle of success in his field. But in the end, we saw him as a man, someone with deep feelings that he struggled to hold in check.

It's our job to show the full complexity of human beings. The worst thing we can do is box them into easy stereotypes or caricatures to fit into a story line. Yet to do that requires that we see beyond our own limitations, that we actually encounter the people we cover and give them their due in the way we portray them.

This is a reason why I have always felt that one of the most satisfying things to do at a newspaper is to write obituaries.

The wonderful thing about obituaries is the lessons you learn when you're truly open to learning what made another human being special. Our former reporter Jim Sheeler, who won the Pulitzer Prize for feature writing for his story "Final Salute," liked to write obituaries of people whose names had never appeared in the newspaper. He found that these people could teach him and others how to live.

That is actually what I think we need to do with our reporting, every day. We should be producing a paper that people value, in part, because it teaches them how to live.

If we're to do that, we have to recognize the humanity in others. Unlike those who seem to revel in the possible demise of the Rocky, we have to be careful not to jump to conclusions about others. For even if we think we know somebody, they are always capable of surprising us, if only we let them.

John Temple can be reached at editor@RockyMountainNews.com or by mail at 101 W. Colfax Ave., Suite 500, Denver, CO 80202.