Fear and Loathing at Rolling Stone (4 page)

The correspondence between Hunter and Jann starts with their very first exchange in 1969. There are backstage looks at the writer as he works, how “Vegas” came to be, the evolution of the 1972 campaign coverage, story ideas (mostly discarded), and the push-me, pull-you faxes required to produce Hunter’s later work. Taken as a whole, the letters and memos are a kind of additional biography of the writer who did his signature work for
Rolling Stone.

__ __ __ __

Hunter first wrote to Jann Wenner in January 1970, having already published his first book,
Hell’s Angels,
in 1966 to generally positive critical attention.
Rolling Stone,
then two years old, had gained national attention with a special issue on Altamont, the Rolling Stones’ debacle of a free outdoor concert in December 1969, at which the Hells Angels (incredibly, hired as
security)
terrorized the crowd, stabbing one spectator to death. Early correspondence between editor and writer danced around the possibility of a story about Terry the Tramp, an Angel who’d recently died, until Hunter casually mentioned his nascent campaign for sheriff of Aspen, Colorado. “The Battle of Aspen”—both Hunter’s run for office and his account of it in the magazine—inserted Hunter into the national conversation both politically and journalistically, and was the opening battle cry to an epic, righteous, and occasionally combustible partnership between Hunter and
Rolling Stone.

Undated letter from Hunter S. Thompson to Jann S. Wenner

Owl Farm

Woody Creek, Colorado

Jann Wenner

Rolling Stone

Your Altamont coverage comes close to being the best journalism I can remember reading, by anybody. When I cited it to a friend who teaches at UCLA’s journalism school he said he’d never heard of
Rolling Stone
... and that sort of says it all, I think, except maybe to speculate that the trouble isn’t really with print, but with the people who control print. And that’s an
old bitch, too, so fuck it. Anyway,
Rolling Stone
makes [Marshall] McLuhan suck wind. It’s a hell of a good medium by any standard, from Hemingway to the Airplane. People like [founder of the
Los Angeles Free Press
Art] Kunkin and [author-journalist Paul] Krassner never came close to what you’re doing ... so don’t fuck it up with pompous bullshit; the demise of
R.S.
would leave a nasty hole.

Which reminds me of that shitty ignorant slur you laid on Eric Von Schmidt’s last album,
Who Knocked the Brains Out of the Sky?
It’s one of the few really original things I’ve heard in five years and “Wooden Man” ranks with the best of The Band’s stuff. Whoever wrote that sleazy rap is a waterhead with a shit ear. Dismissing Von Schmidt as a bad rock artist is like comparing Lenny Bruce to the Hells Angels & saying that Bruce didn’t make it.

Sincerely,

Hunter S. Thompson

Undated letter from Jann S. Wenner to Hunter S. Thompson

746 Brannan Street

San Francisco 94103

Hunter:

Thanks for your note. Having once read your
Angels
book in galley proof forms (stole them when I worked at
Ramparts
) and having really dug it in its pre-cut form, I’ve been a fan of yours. Glad you are now a fan of ours. So, good to get your note.

The record review section has been a problem—a lot of prep-school masturbatory reviewers getting their rocks off in the past. We’re weeding them out now, and bringing the section back under my control, so I apologize for past idiocies in that part of the paper.

How about doing something for us? What have you been writing lately? Send it to me. Maybe we can use it, or maybe you have some ideas for some new stuff. Let me know.

Two items for your interest: 1) We submitted Altamont (plus groupies, ups, Dylan, etc.) for a Pulitzer. I doubt it will happen, but what the hell; and 2) I found out yesterday that Terry the Tramp committed suicide—sleeping pills—he wanted to quit the Angels after Altamont, and that’s how he did it. I think we’ll be having a good story about it. Would you be interested in adding your thoughts?

Hope Woody Creek is as beautiful as it sounds.

Sincerely,

Jann Wenner

Letter from HST to JSW

Owl Farm

Woody Creek, Colorado

Feb 25 ’70

Dear Jann . . .

Thanx for the note & good luck with the Pulitzer gig. If I had a vote you’d be in good shape ... but you’ll be dealing with a gang of crusty shitheads, so don’t let it worry you if they don’t give you a medal. And even if they do it’ll probably be for the wrong reasons.

About writing something: Your news about
Terry the Tramp
depresses the shit out of me. When I think of all those worthless mean-souled fuckers who
should
commit suicide, it’s rotten to hear that Terry was the one who did it. I have hours of tape-talk with the bastard & I was listening to them tonight & remembering how he always knew that Angel thing was a bad trip & how he wanted to get out of it ... but he never knew how, or where to go. He was the only one of the Angels I ever felt next to for long enough to consider him a friend. I kept expecting him to show up out here & I’d have been happy to see him—but he never did.
And now, looking at your letter, I don’t mind knowing he’s dead so much as I hate to think of him sitting around deciding to do it. He should have gone out at about 120, head-on with a cop car. That’s what he was looking for; and it’s a bitch to know he had to go out on his knees.

Anyway, I’d like to write something about him. Maybe a long thing—because thinking about him puts me back in a scene that’s beginning to look very rare. San Francisco in the mid-Sixties was a very special time ... and Terry, to me, was a key figure. I remember taking him down to the Matrix to hear the Airplane before they ever got into the Fillmore ... then taking him down to La Honda to meet Kesey ... and those fuckarounds with the Berkeley peace freaks. So probably I could write a decent thing about him—as a freak-symbol of an era he never quite understood. What do you have room for? A short obit ... or a long rambling truth-nut? Let me know quick—if you need it quick—and also say what you pay. I’ll write the fucker anyway, if there’s room, but I tend to bear down a little harder when I smell money.

Whatever you think: I’ll do a short obit (say, 2500 words) for nothing ... or a long (10–15,000 words) for money. I’d like to get into it, and it fits with the long-overdue book I’m supposed to be finishing right now for Random House ... so if you can use a long piece it’s no problem. Shit ... I sound like a pawnbroker here (or a speed-dealer), but in fact there’s no point in my zapping off a huge chunk of esoteric madness that nobody can use. I’ve done that all too often, and it gets old . . .

OK for now ... and in any case keep
R.S.
on its rails. We are heading into a shitstorm on all fronts.

Ciao,

Hunter

Also—send any details or news clips about Terry—like if there’s a funeral, etc. They would help if I do anything long or serious—Thanx

Letter from JSW to HST

March 30, 1970

Hunter Thompson

Owl Farm

Woody Creek, Colorado

Dear Hunter:

Sorry for taking so long to get back to you but just before your letter arrived I went to London for awhile and I’ve just gotten back.

In the meantime, Terry the Tramp has passed from memory and we have received a beautiful piece by one of our writers in London, Chuck Alverson. I think we will be using this piece for a special issue we will be doing this fall about the Sixties. This obviates the need for the Terry the Tramp piece.

However, I would like you to write some things for us. You say you’re working on a book right now for Random House, and if Terry the Tramp fits into it, perhaps then something from your book would fit into
Rolling Stone
. Maybe you could send us the chapters or some chapters, and maybe we could run some of it. I’d enjoy reading them in any case.

Best regards,

Jann Wenner

Letter from HST to JSW

Owl Farm

Woody Creek, Colorado

Apr 10 ’70

Dear Jann . . .

OK, I’ll try to let you know whenever I have something suitable for
R.S.
God only knows when, or what, it will be. Between running for Sheriff and getting this new Wallposter off the ground, I don’t have much time for heavy writing. But I have to do it—or else start looking around for a job; so I’ll get something together pretty soon.

Meanwhile, how can I get on the list for the
Earth Times
[Jann had recently launched an environmental publication with this title]? Who’s running it? If it’s you, write me in & bill me, or we can trade straight across for 12 issues of the Wallposter—which is on firm enough footing at least until next Nov, when we plan to bring everything to a terrible climax. Until then, the WP is our forum. I’m enclosing the first two issues, FYI.

What I’m hoping for now is just sending out all kinds of queries, hoping to come up with a few good ideas about printing and distribution before June, when we’ll have to get down to serious twice-a-month publication. So if you have any ideas—mainly about how to sell this thing on the coast, or maybe a name or so of some distributors, I’d appreciate hearing from you pretty soon. Thanks for anything you can send.

And meanwhile, put me on the list for the
Earth Times
.

Ciao . . .

Hunter S. Thompson

In re: Chuck Alverson in London—he’s an old friend of mine from the SF era—he did one of the first big magazine stories on the Angels (in
True
)—say hello when you see him.

Letter from JSW to HST, April 16, 1970

Hunter S. Thompson

Owl Farm

Woody Creek, Colorado

Dear Hunter:

Thanks for your letter. Something suitable for
Rolling Stone
: how about the tale of your campaign to be elected Sheriff? That would be beautiful.

Wallposter is a gas. There’s nothing I can do for you in the way of distribution, but if you would like to sell a lot of single copies through the mail at 25 cents each, we could give you a plug in Random Notes.

Enclosed are the first two issues of
Earth Times
. I’d really love to have your first-person piece on running for sheriff. It sounds like it would be beautiful, especially with a lot of general material about Aspen and the scene there worked into it. How about 2500 words?

Best,

Jann Wenner

P.S. Chuck Alverson is now traveling around the Mediterranean for us, doing a special issue on the hashish trails. He’ll be in San Francisco in August, and would probably love to see you.

Letter from HST to JSW

Owl Farm

Woody Creek, Colorado

Apr 23 ’70

Dear Jann . . .

OK ... but first let me explain the X-factors in both the Sheriff’s campaign piece and the 25-cent Wallposters.

First: I saw that photo/caption in the last issue of
R.S.
about the lad who was running for sheriff of Virginia City—and although it sounds fine, that scene is a long way from ours. This one is getting very grim. ... and our real opposition goes by names like 1st National City Bank of NY, “First Boston,” and the Aspen Ski Corp.—with directors like Rbt. McNamara, Paul Nitze & other Washington heavies. What we’ve been trying to do—since we lost last November’s mayoral race by six (6) votes—is seize control of what the opposition regards as a working gold mine. And it is. The idea that a 29-year-old bike-racer head almost became the Mayor of Aspen last fall has put the fatbacks in a state of wild fear; at the moment they’re trying to pass a new City Charter that would disenfranchise most of “our” voters & also bar most of “our” candidates from running for office. So—to destroy this New Charter—we have to mount a serious campaign almost instantly. The charter election (Yes, or No) is in June. And if we can beat them on that, I think we can generate a fucking landslide in November—not only in the Sheriff’s race, but also in the crucial County Commissioner’s contest—and also for the ballot proposition to change the name of Aspen, officially, to Fat City. This would wreck the bastards, and give us working control of the whole county.
^*

Anyway, I trust you see the problem—both in timing and magnitude. My sheriff’s gig is just a small part of the overall plot, which amounts to a sort of Freak Power takeover bid. It began last Nov. and won’t end until Nov ’70. So maybe you should ponder the timing of any article; For my own purposes, I’d rather do it sometime this summer, like August, when we’re well underway. Or I can wait until after it’s over ... although chances are that I’ll be somewhere in Chuck Alverson’s territory by that time, if I lose. If I make a serious run at the sheriff’s thing, I’ll either win or have to move out. That’s the tradition here—and it’ll be especially true in my case. Last summer was heavy with violence, and this one looks nine times worse. Last year the dynamite action didn’t even start until mid-July, but this year it’s already heavy in April ... and last fall’s near-miss election has given the local freaks a huge shot of confidence for whatever lies ahead.

So ... on the “Sheriff’s Campaign” article, I’m inclined to look at it as part of a far larger thing. If Freak Power can win in Aspen, it can win in a lot of other places ... and in that context I’d just as soon do the article fairly soon, maybe in time for August publication, so that what we’ve learned here might be put to use somewhere else, before November. The important thing here is not whether I win or not—and I hope to hell I don’t—but the mechanics of seizing political power in an area with a potentially powerful freak population. (As a passing note, there, I suppose I should say that if I
do
win, I’ll serve out the term—although not without the help of a carefully selected posse and a very special crew of deputies, most of whom are already chosen and working to register my constituents.) We found, last fall, that
registration
is the key to freak power.