As the October 1 retirement party for quintessential rabid right-wing New York Post hack Steve Dunleavy approaches, everyone who knew him is scrambling to write their remembrances of his alcohol-inspired behavior. It's funny how the passage of time can turn a man's reputation from "inappropriate, mean, and downright dangerous alcoholic" to "beloved irascible colleague," but there you go. How about some more Dunleavy stories? Yes, he had a "reputation as a pants man extraordinaire"!
- "The Star's rival, the National Enquirer, had "paid a ransom for the exclusive serial rights to the hottest book of the decade — Judith Exner's revelations about her affair with President Kennedy". Kerrison says: "The book was under lock and key, guarded tighter than Fort Knox. One day, I told Steve, 'We've got to get a copy of the book and beat the Enquirer to the punch'. Steve said, 'Boss, gimme some time and I'll get it'. "He disappeared. A few days later he turned up in my office, clutching a copy of the Exner book. I couldn't believe my eyes. 'My God,' I said to him, 'Where the hell did you get that?' Steve looked a bit sheepish and said, 'Boss, don't ask. You wouldn't want to know.'
- "It is said Dunleavy would f..k anyone or anything for a story, and that is true. He got a scoop for the News of the World when he wined, dined, seduced and ignobly reported the pillow-talk and tears of one of Teddy Kennedy's "boiler room" girls after the Chappaquiddick scandal. I visited him one evening in his New York apartment. He opened the door and greeted me, naked, before introducing me to a star witness in a police corruption investigation, also naked. They were engaged in an in-depth, probing interview of sorts — another scoop."
- And one from Gawker commenter Baroness: "My favorite Dunleavy moment was on TV. He was covering the Palm Beach Kennedy-Smith rape trial for A Current Affair I think. Some bigmouth girl who went to school with the victim was looking for her 15 min., blabbing personal details with any tabloid who'd listen, and presumably pay. Dunleavy took this chick for a long, very liquid lunch at a posh place, plied her with drinks and she sang like a canary. When she was well and truly sloshed and giddy, Dunleavy pulled out some dirty Polaroids of Blabbermouth with a big dick in her mouth, close-ups he had bought off one of her treacherous friends. The hilarity of her drunkenly trying to grab those pictures out of his hand, as he held them high in the air making her jump for them, was unforgettable, wicked, and very funny. He was gleeful as a kid on Christmas morning, loving life and his job at that moment."