Very sad news tonight. Hunter S. Thompson was found dead of an apparent self-inflicted gunshot wound. He was 67 years old.
I am a huge fan of Thompson’s work. I can remember my first introduction to it, when my brother read me passages from Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas. That introduction let me to move from one book to the next. You really couldn’t go wrong with any of his books.
Of all of them, I most appreciate his volumes of letters, particularly the first volume, The Proud Highway. A tireless correspondent, the letters introduced me to a young Thompson, who would eagerly engage friends and strangers in thoughtful and funny letters that he carefully maintained copies of, knowing that someday even they would be a worthy read for a larger audience.
Once, while I was at UC Santa Barbara in 1986, Thompson visited our campus for a lecture. The event was a sell-out and I had no ticket, but since my job on campus was as a projectionist, I was able to worm my way into watching from the rear projection booth. With his Dunhill hanging from a cigarette holder, and a glass of Wild Turkey, he gladly entertained questions from students in the packed auditorium. It was great.
Thompson said, “When the going gets weird, the weird turn pro“. He was a pro, and he will be sorely missed.