I’ve just finished David Carr’s fantastic The Night of the Gun: A Reporter Investigates the Darkest Story of His Life, His Own (2008) — nevermind the cheesy subtitle. It’s a memoir of Carr’s addiction to alcohol and cocaine, both crack and the standard powder variety, especially during his years as a reporter in Minneapolis during the 1980s.
Carr died a couple years ago, in 2015, shortly after he collapsed on the floor of the New York Times newsroom. I remember the flood of encomia and remembrances at the time, from those who knew him, those whom he mentored at the Washington City Paper, and elsewhere.
Sadly, the companion website for the book, nightofthegun.com, has lapsed and is no longer accessible, not even through the Wayback Machine. The site had “video and audio interviews, documents, transcripts, and pictures, along with a blog, an excerpt, and additional narrative elements not contained in this book.” This is ironic, but of a piece with sovereign entropy. As a final note in The Night of the Gun states, “This site is a digital expression of this book and a reminder that the past continues to evolve.”