First, there was the funeral. Then, six months later, there was the memorial service, in which Hunter’s ashes - as he had stipulated in his will - were fired far across Owl Farm’s acres in a rocket. ‘It was like preparing for a wedding, so I was distracted,’ she says. ‘I didn’t want Hunter’s ashes to leave the farm at first. I wasn’t going to let them out of my sight. So I had to fly with them to the firework factory, which was in Pennsylvania. I went to the bunker, and they had the canisters for the rockets there, open, so they could be sealed with me there. They put the ashes in and I wrote on each seal, “I love you, Hunter.” It was a kind of blessing, but it was also so that I knew the ashes were coming back.’
Thirty-two rockets were fired in the end, from a ‘supergun’ topped by the double-thumbed red fist that symbolises ‘gonzo’. In attendance were Sean Penn, Bill Murray, Johnny Depp, John Kerry and George McGovern. ‘It was beautiful. It was what he wanted. There was a sense of peace after the ashes settled. Then we got drunk. Yes, I would say it was an all-nighter.’
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| — | Anita Thompson, article/interview 8 months after Hunter S. Thompson’s death |
It’s a curious thing, the death of a loved one. We all know that our time in this world is limited, and that all of us will end up underneath some sheet, never to wake up. And yet it is always a surprise when it happens to someone we know. It is like walking up the stairs to your bedroom in the dark, and thinking there is one more stair then there is. Your foot falls down, through the air, and there is a moment of dark surprise as you try and readjust the way you thought of things.
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| — | Lemony Snicket |
My concept of death for a long time was to come down that mountain road at 120 and just keep going straight right there, burst out through the barrier and hang out above all that… and there I’d be, sitting in the front seat, stark naked, with a case of whiskey next to me and a case of dynamite in the trunk… honking the horn, and the lights on, and just sit there in space for an instant, a human bomb, and fall down into that mess of steel mills. It’d be a tremendous goddam explosion. No pain. No one would get hurt. I’m pretty sure, unless they’ve changed the highway, that launching place is still there. As soon as I get home, I ought to take the drive just to check it out.
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| — | Hunter S. Thompson, quoted in the St. Petersburg Times, February 22, 2005 |
But what I did assume at that time, early on and, shit— every year forever after that, was that I would be dead very soon. The fact that I’m not dead is sort of puzzling to me. It’s sort of an awkward thing to deal with… It’s like going into the 27th inning in a baseball game. You’re like, what the fuck am I doing here, man?
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| — | Hunter S. Thompson |
My concept of death for a long time was to come down that mountain road at 120 and just keep going straight right there, burst out through the barrier and hang out above all that … and there I’d be, sitting in the front seat, stark naked, with a case of whiskey next to me and a case of dynamite in the trunk … honking the horn, and the lights on, and just sit there in space for an instant, a human bomb, and fall down into that mess of steel mills. It’d be a tremendous goddam explosion. No pain. No one would get hurt. I’m pretty sure, unless they’ve changed the highway, that launching place is still there. As soon as I get home, I ought to take the drive just to check it out.
—Quoted in St. Petersburg Times, February 22, 2005
