January 2020 Auction Ends Thursday, January 30th, 5pm Pacific
This lot is closed for bidding. Bidding ended on 1/30/2020
Hunter S. Thompson letter signed ''HST'' in type, with initials circled by Thompson, and with also his hand-annotation. Dated 28 January (1964) from Woody Creek, Colorado, Thompson writes to his friend Paul Semonin in part, ''I hear you are going to Harlem...Why don't you tackle the real problem in this country? The Rut Lillys of the land [Rut Lilly was a mutual friend from Louisville representing conformity]. 'When is Paul going to get a job and settle down?' Shit, you'll be a hero in Harlem. Go somehwhere [sic] and find out how it is to be a bum. Go to Dallas.
But I hate to give you advice I wouldn't follow myself. I am going to California, and for no particular reason. I just offered the Reporter a series on 'The Validity of the Profit Motive.'...Coming back to this country has made me want to get out again, and [President] Johnson's bullshit is beginning to drive me wild. With the possible exception of Rockefeller, all the candidates are the same. Imaging Johnson & Scranton. Nimbus and Numbus. God fuck us all...I found a clipping today, saying that Miss America of 1958 had come back home to marry a hometown denver lawyer. The photos were beautiful. The guy looks like Rut Lilly. They were high school sweethearts. The girl lived in New York for a year or so and had one wild failure of a marriage. It's too perfect to be true -- that's what I meant by the lights going out...
I have just spent about a month doing a 'political profile' of Colorado for the Rptr. I took Fanon over to Denver but worked like a whore for ten days and read nothing but budgets...The profile is shitty and might even bounce. A wasted month. I mean to leave here as soon as somebody sends me a check. John Barclay committed suicide in Switzerland and the Ingersolls [his landlords] have since become rabid about cash. They used to say the only reason they charged any rent at all was because John needed spending money. Now they are calling Wayne constantly from Bermuda, telling him to throw me out if I can't pay. Fortunately, Wayne and I have become good poachers together and the profit motive, in this case, runs up on a wall of blood. Two bull elk the other day. Whammo. I fed the whole valley...Sandy is ready to drop [pregnant with their son] anytime and can't drive, so she has to fly, which is another $100. My debts are all in three figures...''
He ends with, ''My concepts are foggier than ever. I sense a breakdown. It is like being in a mineshaft with no light or even a hope of one. I think poverty looms. It may be the only salvation -- unless I run for president. Send word. HST''. Single page leader measures 8.375'' x 11''. Folds, else near fine condition.
Hunter S. Thompson Typed Letter From 1964 With Hand-Annotations -- ''...I am going to California, and for no particular reason...God fuck us all...''
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