As a former strong-willed child, I’ve had the notion of James Dobson’s mortality in the back of my mind for the last half-decade or so.
I was not expecting a few tears to fall at the news of his death at age 89, but they showed up anyway. Even though this guy hadn’t hurt me for decades, it felt like a relief. I know he inflicted damage on millions of others that might never fade, but his death made it feel like Earth had just become a little less cruel.
I’ve seen two different types of online reactions to Dobson’s death, depending on whether the commenter grew up within right-wing religion or not. While the average person notes Dobson’s passing by remembering him as “one of those important right-wing guys,” pretty much every ex-evangelical kid I’ve seen is raring to track down his afterlife whereabouts.
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