Thursday, Aug 28, 2008
Sonny Barger, Rosalynn Carter, Ben Fong-Torres and others remember the wild life and times of Hunter S. Thompson.
Feb 21, 2005 | Ralph "Sonny" Barger, Hells Angel. "All show and no go"
Hunter S. Thompson wrote an article in the May 17, 1965, issue of The Nation about the Hells Angels and called it "The Motorcycle Gangs, Losers and Outsiders." I actually liked the way it was written, even though some of the facts were exaggerated. After the article received a good reaction, Thompson came back to Oakland and hung around the clubs favorite biker bar hangouts until he and I finally met face-to-face. He told me he wanted to ride with the club and me and write a book about us. Since I liked the way he wrote, the Oakland and Frisco chapters I let Hunter hang out with the club for a price, two kegs of beer. But as time went by, Hunter turned out to be a real weenie and a stone fucking coward. You read about he walks around his house now with pistols, shooting them out of his windows to impress writers who show up to interview him. Hes all show and no go. When he tried to act tough with us, no matter what happened, Hunter Thompson got scared. I ended up not liking him at all, a tall skinny, typical hillbilly from Kentucky. He was a total fake. Hunter got along with some of the members better than me.
From "Hells Angel: The Life and Times of Sonny Barger and the Hells Angels Motorcycle Club, by Ralph "Sonny" Barger with Keith and Kent Zimmerman (William Morrow, 2000)
Charles Kuralt, broadcast journalist. "Bail"
...I knew him from Rio, where I had once lent him bail money to get out of jail after he had slugged a guy who had kicked a dog in a bar.... (1960s)
From "A Life on the Road," by Charles Kuralt (G.P. Putnams, 1990)
Ben Fong-Torres, journalist. "Pills of unknown make and effect"
... to Palm Springs, where most of our top editors, along with a few people from advertising, and the magazines book division, were gathering at the summer home of millionaire Max Palevsky, whod become an investor in Rolling Stone two years before...
Hunter S. Thompson arrived on the second day, a Saturday. He showed up with his usual duffel bag of high-tech writing and rock and roll equipment. While the cooks and servants prepared dinner, he made the rounds, handing out pills of unknown make and effect. Thinking hed already taken a couple, the dozen or so in our party played good sports and downed ours.
By the time we made it to the dinner table, we were uniformly wasted. At one point, I held my knife and fork over my prime rib and asked for directions.
Hunter, meantime, was sober for perhaps the first time in his adult life. He hadnt taken any of the pills. We abandoned dinner and staggered into the living room to watch some films...Whatever the film was, it was sensory overload for some of us, and we escaped to the pool. There, the last sight I remembered was Hunter, in Hawaiian shirt and Bermuda shorts, carrying a case of Roman candles in his left arm. With his right hand, he was trying to light a match, so that, in the darkness, he could read the directions on the box. (early 1970s)
From "The Rice Room: Growing Up Chinese American--From Number Two Son to Rock n Roll," by Ben Fong-Torres (Hyperion, 1994)
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