Dominick Dunne remembered

To call Dominick Dunne a keen observer of the celebrity scene makes him sound like little more than a town gossip. He was anything but that.

Dunne, who died Wednesday at 83 in Manhattan after a long bout with bladder cancer, had an uncanny ability to work rooms filled with the famous and infamous, publish bruising articles, and somehow remain on the A list. He collected facts, distilled truth, and held up a mirror that revealed the hypocrisy and human tragedy of the beautiful people.

Known as a crime writer and regular contributor to Vanity Fair, he was capable of powerful and compelling storytelling. Those of us who value such things found much to admire in his work. I heard echoes of John O’Hara in Dunne’s insightful prose.

I also appreciated his tenacity.

Despite obviously being very ill, Dunne covered the O.J. Simpson case last year in Clark County District Court. With his notepad and pen, he listened closely to the give and take of the defense and prosecution, scribbling here and there. Simpson’s memorabilia robbery case lacked the drama of his murder trial, but Dunne was a pro. Rather than phoning it in, he stuck it out and worked as hard as his ailing body would allow.

He also fell asleep in court more than once and was chaperoned by his friends from Court TV and local freelance journalist Steve Friess, who wrote a lengthy profile about the journalist and author for The New York Times Style section.

On the morning of the start of the Simpson trial, Friess finished reading one of Dunne’s story collections, then went down to District Court and found himself sitting next to the man who wrote “The Two Mrs. Grenvilles,” “Another City, Not My Own,” “A Season in Purgatory” and other best-sellers.

“It was like the completion of a thought,” Friess said.

Observing Dunne as Dunne observed a courtroom provided a lesson in reporting not taught in journalism school. Dunne had a nose for the back story and a keen sense for spotting the little-noticed detail and the minor character capable of bringing a story as inherently mundane as the Simpson case to life.

It wasn’t easy in a trial with no murder.

At one point, a frustrated Dunne whispered to Friess, “I need a body. This is so boring. I don’t care about this shit.”

But if Dominick Dunne didn’t care, it never showed in his remarkable writing.