Farewell to Hamill
Skint Julep | September 2020 Hamill was dead and there seemed nothing really to do about it except smoke a cigarette in the midnight heat. You don’t run across men like Pete Hamill often. The world lucks upon them once in only a great while. Not just a brilliant, crusading journalist, editor and celebrated writer and essayist, Hamill was a mensch. He was a man in full, of his time, and a chronicler of his era and the city he loved. He loved booze, women, song, cigarettes, too — those “goddamned cigarettes” he took to referring to them after he had finally quit — amid the clattering hum of 1960s New York newspaper newsrooms before he found some of these vices inhibited his...
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