When I met Charlie Askins, I was pleasantly surprised to learn that he was one of my fans -- so I revised my intense former long-distance dislike of him (based on his writings) and figured This guy can't be all bad.

As I got to know him through later contacts, it turned out that indeed he wasn't all bad.

Just mostly bad. About 90% to 99%, as a rough guess.

His favorite sport was killing people, whether they "had it coming" or not. He hunted on many safaris in Africa, where his favorite professional hunter was a part-time PH whose main occupation as a mercenary usually involved killing black Africans. Charlie gleefully jumped at every opportunity to quit hunting four-footed game and start killing two-footed prey. I'm not sure, but I think it was Charlie or this PH who killed a black baby -- whose parents they'd killed as poachers -- rather than take the baby to a nearby native village where he could be cared-for.

It was "common knowledge" among Charlie's ex-Border Patrol colleagues that he'd gotten another BP officer out from under a murder rap by murdering the only witness.

I liked Charlie but could never admire or respect him. He gave his autobiography the most fittingly descriptive title in all of literature -- Unrepentent Sinner. The man didn't even have the slightest desire to be -- or to be considered -- good.

I'll never forget how one of his editors began the note telling us that Charlie had died: his first line was "Hell just got fuller."