Fear and Loathing on the Campaign Trail ’72. Hunter S. Thompson

he had challenged the party hierarchy by forcing a public showdown between himself and Larry o’Brien’s personal choice for the chairmanship of the all-important Credentials Committee at the national convention.

      Dick Dougherty, a former Los Angeles Times newsman who is handling McGovern’s national press action in New Hampshire, was so shaken by the news of Hughes’ defection that he didn’t even try to explain it when reporters began asking Why? Dougherty had just gotten the word when the crowded press limo left Dover for Exeter, and he did his best to fend off our questions until he could talk to the candidate and agree on what to say. But in terms of campaign morale, it was as if somebody had slashed all the tires on every car in the caravan, including the candidate’s. When we got to the Exeter Inn I half expected to see a filthy bearded raven perched over the entrance, croaking ‘Nevermore …’

      By chance, I found George downstairs in the Men’s Room, hovering into a urinal and staring straight ahead at the grey marble tiles.

      ‘Say … ah … I hate to mention this,’ I said. ‘But what about this thing with Hughes?’

      He flinched and quickly zipped his pants up, shaking his head and mumbling something about ‘a deal for the vice-presidency.’ I could see that he didn’t want to talk about it, but I wanted to get his reaction before he and Dougherty could put a story together.

      ‘Why do you think he did it?’ I said.

      He was washing his hands, staring down at the sink. ‘Well …’ he said finally. ‘I guess I shouldn’t say this, Hunter, but I honestly don’t know. I’m surprised; we’re all