Hunter S Thompson Death Case Reopened

The Strange and Terrible Saga of Hunter S. Thompson's Final Chapter Gets a Rewrite

Twenty years after the world accepted that the creator of gonzo journalism, Hunter S. Thompson, had taken his own life with a firearm, Colorado officials are re-examining the case. Prompted by an appeal from his widow, a new review has been launched by the Colorado Bureau of Investigation into the writer’s 2005 passing, which was initially determined to be self-inflicted. This fresh examination is not prompted by new findings but by a desire for a conclusive and open inquiry. The aim is to offer closure to his relatives and the wider community.

The initial inquiry determined that Thompson died from a firearm injury he inflicted upon himself at his Woody Creek residence. This little community near Aspen, Colorado, was where he passed away on 20 February 2005 at 67 years old. His son, Juan, discovered his father's remains inside the kitchen. Back then, there was no indication of any criminal activity, and the Pitkin County Sheriff's Office concluded its case. Now, two decades on, this surprising re-examination opens up new questions about the last days of one of America's most defiant and rebellious literary icons.

A Widow's Request for a Fresh Look

The catalyst for this renewed scrutiny is Anita Thompson, the author’s widow. She went to the Pitkin County Sheriff's Office with worries that led to the new review. Michael Buglione, the local Sheriff, stated that Anita Thompson's request came from "things she has been hearing from friends and possible relatives" regarding her late husband's passing. Buglione made it clear her concerns were not about the standard of the original inquiry but about fresh information she had been given.

To guarantee an unbiased viewpoint, the Sheriff's Office proposed involving the state's Bureau of Investigation (CBI) to perform a detailed case review. Sheriff Buglione explained his wish for Anita to communicate directly with CBI agents, avoiding the need to retell her story. The CBI has since verified it is looking at the current evidence but is not, for now, reopening the inquiry. If any discrepancies arise, Anita Thompson can formally request to have the case reopened.

Image Credit - by Rs79, CC BY-SA 3.0, via Wikimedia Commons

The Original Investigation in 2005

The original inquiry during February of 2005 presented a clear, if heartbreaking, narrative. Thompson's son, Juan, who was in an adjacent room at the time alongside his spouse and son, heard the weapon discharge and found his father. Investigator Ron Ryan from the Pitkin County Sheriff’s Office located a Smith & Wesson .45 calibre handgun at the location. The firearm had an empty chamber and a spent casing was nearby.

The county coroner at the time, Dr. Steve Ayers, concluded the death was self-inflicted. He notably decided against ordering a toxicology report, explaining this was "incidental to the cause of death." Dr. Ayers believed that the presence of drugs in Thompson's system would not change the final determination. In the days after he died, Anita Thompson informed journalists that her husband had spoken of suicide in the preceding months, seeing it as a way to exit life as a "champion" at his zenith.

The Final Days at Owl Farm

Thompson's last years were defined by ongoing health issues. He was dealing with a broken leg and a hip replacement, and the persistent pain affected him deeply. His last written piece, called "Football Season Is Over," which appeared in Rolling Stone, hinted at his physical deterioration with phrases such as "No More Walking. No More Fun. No More Swimming." The message conveyed a feeling of exhaustion and ennui, noting, "67. That is 17 years past 50. 17 more than I needed or wanted. Boring."

His daily life at Owl Farm, his "fortified compound" near Woody Creek, became legendary, although likely embellished. A well-known story portrayed a day powered by Chivas Regal, cocaine, and other substances, with writing only starting after midnight. While this was probably more of a caricature than an exact schedule, it perfectly captured the untamed and extreme persona Thompson nurtured. The reality was his later years were a fight against the physical restrictions that were closing in on his larger-than-life world.

The Birth of Gonzo Journalism

To grasp Hunter S. Thompson is to grasp the groundbreaking journalism style he invented: "Gonzo." This very subjective, first-person reporting method put the writer at the heart of the narrative. Thompson’s technique rejected objectivity, choosing instead to lean into personal experiences, feelings, and frequently, satire and exaggeration. His writing was a complete break from the conventional, impartial journalism of his day.

The "gonzo" label is thought to have first emerged in 1970 to describe Thompson's feature "The Kentucky Derby Is Decadent and Depraved." For that assignment, he worked with Welsh illustrator Ralph Steadman, whose bizarre and lively illustrations became forever tied to Thompson's prose. Their joint efforts on books including Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas created a distinctive and raw reading experience that came to define the gonzo style.

Fear and Loathing: The Savage Journey

Thompson's most celebrated book, Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas: A Savage Journey to the Heart of the American Dream, which was published in 1971, stands as the ultimate work of gonzo journalism. This semi-autobiographical novel tracks his alter ego, Raoul Duke, and his lawyer, Dr. Gonzo, on a substance-heavy excursion to Las Vegas for a motorcycle race. The story is a blistering commentary on the American ideal and mourns the collapse of the countercultural movement from the 1960s.

The Dr. Gonzo character drew inspiration from Thompson's real friend, Oscar Zeta Acosta, a Chicano activist and lawyer. Their chaotic escapades around Las Vegas, which started as a task for Sports Illustrated, evolved into literary legend. Acosta, much like Steadman, was a vital partner in producing Thompson's most significant work. Their volatile friendship and mutual love for mayhem provided the fuel for the story that would secure Thompson's place in literary history.

The Freak Power Campaign

Thompson's contempt for authority and the political system wasn't just in his writing. In 1970, he made a bid for sheriff of Pitkin County, Colorado, under the "Freak Power" banner. His radical proposals included decriminalising drugs for personal use, converting Aspen's roads into green pedestrian areas, and changing the town's name to "Fat City" to ward off property developers.

He shaved his head, which allowed him to call his crew-cut rival "my long-haired opponent." The campaign, which he chronicled in his Rolling Stone feature "The Battle of Aspen," was a frontal attack on the town's conservative establishment. Though he did not win the election, the Freak Power movement was a potent display of his dedication to defying norms and a key event in the counterculture of that time.

A Larger-Than-Life Legacy

Thompson's effect on journalism and popular culture cannot be overstated. He questioned the core principle of objectivity in reporting and encouraged a new wave of writers to explore different ways of telling stories. His writing captured the essence of a chaotic period in American history and spoke for a generation that felt alienated from the political and social conventions of the day.

However, his public image sometimes threatened to eclipse his writing. The persona of the drug-addled, gun-loving renegade journalist turned into a cultural stereotype that, for some, masked the sharp mind and moral fury that powered his work. As one biographer pointed out, Thompson was the favourite writer of many non-readers. Yet, underneath the wild antics was a profoundly clever and perceptive social commentator.

A Final, Explosive Farewell

Even in his passing, Hunter S. Thompson planned one last act of defiance. His funeral in August 2005 was a remarkable affair, paid for by his close friend, actor Johnny Depp, who played him in the movie version of Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas. Following his instructions, Thompson's ashes were loaded into a cannon and launched from a 153-foot tower designed as a double-thumbed fist holding a peyote button—the famous Gonzo emblem.

The event was a suitably dramatic and fiery send-off for someone who lived with such incredible passion. It was a last, memorable piece of performance art that sealed his legendary status. The ceremony was attended by many celebrities and friends, showing the deep influence he had on those who knew him and were affected by his writing.

The fresh examination by the state's Bureau of Investigation will probably not alter the core facts surrounding how the author died. Sheriff Buglione himself has expressed his belief that the initial inquiry's findings will be upheld. But for a writer who built a career on challenging the official version of events and searching for a more profound, personal truth, this final, unexpected development is, in its own way, a fitting postscript. It guarantees that even after his death, the wild, unpredictable, and entirely singular tale of this author is still being composed.