My husband, J, is a writer in Denver and was there to do some work. He recognized Thompson immediately, but didn't say anything. You don't expect to meet your hero at your local coffeeshop. Hunter came over and asked J for a pen and started talking...and talking. He didn't say he was anyone special, just talked about all manner of things, mostly his brand new car and his wife. He was having trouble getting the car in reverse and said he might need J to help him push it out of the spot. It was an early birthday present to himself, he said. I'll respect Anita's privacy and not tell you what he said about his marriage, but he spoke about things much in the way any man his age might in the smoking section of a diner. J said he got the impression Hunter just wanted to talk to someone like a normal guy, not about work or his mythology, but just as a regular man. J said he was chatty and lucid, looked older than his years, and seemed very normal, other than his car, which most men his age wouldn't be driving. When they parted, Hunter shook his hand and asked his name. J gave it to him, and Hunter just said, "Thompson." He managed to get the car in reverse without help and drove away.
J told his co-workers about the meeting and, because no one believed him and they're in the journalism field, they called the dealership and confirmed that Hunter had just bought that car.
I'm sharing this story because people might want to read what Hunter was like when he wasn't being Gonzo. I wish I'd been the one who'd met him, but I doubt he would have approached me.
It's hard to say you'll miss a man you've never met, but I know I will. I'll think of him during the loud, wild times, and the quiet ones, too, now that I know what he could be like. I wish his family all the best.
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