Richard Hunter, media director for Dennis Hof, who owns the Love Ranch, talks, Wednesday, Oct. 14, 2015 in Crystal, Nev., about how he found former NBA basketball player Lamar Odom unconscious the day before. Odom, the NBA star and reality TV personality embraced by teammates and fans for his humble approach to fame, was on life support Wednesday, his estranged wife Khloe Kardashian by his side. Odom was found unresponsive after four days at the brothel. (AP Photo/Chris Carlson)
In the midst of all the news about Lamar Odom falling seriously ill at the Nevada brothel, Love Ranch, there was plenty of media attention.
After all, in the universe where Odom lives – the NBA and the Kardashian family – TV cameras, TMZ reports and 48-point screaming headlines are the order of the day.
Odom was found unconscious at the brothel Oct. 13 with white and reddish substances coming from his nose and mouth, according to an Associated Press report.
He was to be flown by helicopter about 80 miles southeast to Las Vegas but had to be taken by ambulance because the 6-foot, 10-inch tall former basketball star couldn’t fit into the aircraft.
Then the celebrities began marching in, past the throng of photographers, reporters and gawkers. Odom’s estranged wife, Khloe Kardashian, rushed to his side that night at Sunrise Hospital and Medical Center. Since then, friends, teammates and loved ones – including Rev. Jesse Jackson, Kobe Bryant, etc. – have visited and posted messages on social media asking for prayers.
Meanwhile, authorities took a blood sample from Odom to find out if he overdosed on drugs or alcohol, but the results could take several weeks.
Amid all this celebrity magazine-Entertainment Tonight-TMZ attention, there was one name that caught my eye, the man credited with making the original 911 call: Richard Hunter, identified as a brothel spokesman.
Hunter, just out of the glare of the spotlight, was born in Fort Worth. Known sometimes as “Big Dick Hunter,” he is a former musician, radio personality, talk show host and, as identified on his Facebook page, a “public figure.”
Hunter, as host of “Big Dick’s P1 Wild-Ass Circus” on KTCK, The Ticket, put on one of the more entertaining, off-the-wall and skirt-the-edges-of-FCC-rules radio shows before the days of podcasts made such radio seem a bit silly. “P1” by the way, is not some weird sex term, but a phrase that means someone who is a fan of a particular radio station. The show ran for several years on The Ticket in the early 2000s and then Hunter bounced around with several stations.
What I liked about Hunter was that he didn’t have that snickering, teenage boy attitude toward the more sensual side of life. He was serious about it, getting his guests to examine their sometimes extreme choices. Well, OK, he was as serious and adult as anyone nicknamed “Big Dick” can be when talking about sex. One of his frequent guests was Love Ranch owner Dennis Hof, and apparently they struck up a friendship.
Hunter was also in the band Killbilly, a Texas group from the 1980s that is worth checking out. They were often described as the bluegrass Sex Pistols, and that may not be far from the truth. Hunter played bass and wasn’t a key member of the band, but those who saw the band knew it was special. Check ’em out on YouTube. Killbilly is looked on fondly by the likes of Rhett Miller, now of the Old ‘97s, whose band owes something to them.
Hunter also ran for mayor of Fort Worth in 1996, running in the race to fill the spot left vacant by Kay Granger, who eventually won a congressional seat. While he was one of those fringe candidates, he made an impression, though not enough of one to win many votes. But like most things Hunter does, he was entertaining, intelligent and enlightening at the same time.
And now here he is again, just slightly out of the spotlight.