A couple of months ago, family members both here and in Montreal contacted me in a panic, upset over suddenly being, as my brother put it, "blindsided" by friends and colleagues who wanted to know "why your daughter/sister/aunt is anti-Semitic."

What set this off was a headline in the Canadian Jewish News, in yet another article penned by Paul Michaels, communications director of the Canada-Israel Committee, headlined "Note To Zerbisias: Facts Matter."

It's a long and troubling story but, what's relevant here is, Michaels suggested that "some reporters" harbor"a deeply held prejudice" which, to friend, family and several legal experts, came very close to calling me ... well, you know the rest.

When the Michaels column first appeared, family members, who eventually calmed down, asked me to back off writing about the Middle East. As if I could ignore one of the biggest stories of the millennium. As if I would.

Now, understand that my family is part Jewish. We celebrate all the holidays.

What's more, I grew up in a Jewish neighborhood, celebrated Israel's winning the 1967 Six Day War with my friends, chaired my (98 per cent Jewish) high school reunion, have every Jackie Mason CD ever recorded (and get the jokes), and have been mesmerized by Israel's beauty and unforgettable light.

Here's the thing: For better or worse, Canada is not overrun with people named Zerbisias. So, unfortunately, my family was collateral damage in a hit that was directed at me.

Hit? Actually, it was more like a dirty bomb.

And it's still fouling the Internet.

In this day and age, when politics are more poisonous than merely partisan, when people are not just polarized but intransigent, and when messages can be expedited at the speed of whatever the speed e-mail travels when it's not bogged down by worms and viruses, it doesn't take long for a tsunami of intimidating, threatening and downright scary messages to jam your inbox.

Whether it's criticizing the attack on Iraq, events in Israel's occupied territories, or even mocking how Conservative leader Stephen Harper looks in a tight polo shirt, you're bound to catch hell.

And it doesn't just come from the right.

Even Colin McNickle, the Pittsburgh Tribune-Review writer told by Teresa Heinz Kerry to "shove it" last week complained that he had received death threats from supporters of the Democrats.

Most major media organizations just damn the hate torpedoes and report full speed ahead.

Most, but not all of them, all of the time. Not in this climate.

There are some stories deemed too hot to handle.

"Fear has increased in every newsroom in America," said CBS' Dan Rather two Sundays ago, on the eve of the Democratic National Convention.

The veteran anchor made the comment at a seminar hosted by Harvard's Joan Shorenstein Center On The Press, Politics And Public Policy. Also participating were ABC's Peter Jennings, CNN's Judy Woodruff, NBC's Tom Brokaw and PBS's Jim Lehrer.

Without naming names, Rather said: "If you touch one of the most explosive issues, they have instant response teams that will be all over you. This creates an undertow ... in which sometimes your boss or somebody on your staff will say, `You know what? We run this story and we're asking for trouble with a capital T. Why do it? Why not just pass on by?' That happens, I'm sorry to report."

"People are really hating right now," Lehrer agreed. "Our e-mail and our phone calls reflect not a lot of open minds out there."

Those closed minds could be closing the door on public debate.

In a converged, consolidated and concentrated media world, where profit trumps the public interest, too many news organizations are tiptoeing through — or around — the minefields, mostly for bottom-line reasons.

That's because individual media owners, such as CBS founder William Paley or CNN creator Ted Turner, who usually — but not always — fought for their networks' journalistic integrity are all but extinct. Now we have mega corporations and the very conservative Rupert Murdoch, who owns the pro-Bush Fox News, and Canada's Asper family, which controls CanWest Global, and is known for their strong views on Israel.

"I think there is anxiety in the newsroom, and I think it comes from the corporate suite," Jennings said at the seminar.

"This wave of resentment rushes at our advertisers, it rushes at our corporate suites, and it gets under the newsroom's skin."

But it must never get under a journalist's skin.

Which is why mine, and that of many of my colleagues, here at the Star and elsewhere, gets thicker by the day.

Copyright Toronto Star Newspapers Limited.

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