This is no ordinary arrival at University Park Airport.
At 9 o'clock on a mild early October evening, a white stretch limousine approaches the main terminal — but drives right by it. It pulls up to a smaller, luxurious building less than a quarter mile down the road, a vast difference from the sterile main structure.
The VIP terminal is quiet except for muffled exchanges between a few workers and the limousine driver, with the annoying television drone of "The O'Reilly Factor" in the background.
"Waiting for LFP?" asks the worker manning the desk.
There is nothing to do but wait and anticipate. Pace around, sit back down. Look at the watch. Pace some more.
Finally, word comes that LFP is approaching. The limo cruises out to the tarmac, and the wait continues.
Few people could create this much drama with an arrival in State College.
Minutes later, red and white lights punctuate the skyline. The jet roars as it touches the runway at 9:40.
As it taxis into view, the plane's identity is revealed. Right there on the tail, which is painted in a stars-and-stripes pattern, bears the large letters "LFP," which stands for Larry Flynt Publications.
To borrow a moniker from Larry Claxton Flynt's autobiographical movie, "The Pervert" has arrived. The wait is over.
"It is important to bring controversial speakers who test the boundaries of the marketplace of ideas to public universities, because they challenge the status quo and make people think."
— Clay Calvert, associate professor of communications and co-director of the Pennsylvania Center for the First Amendment
The Penn State community didn't have many days to build anticipation for the arrival of Hustler publisher Larry Flynt.
Signs were posted advertising his speech less than two weeks before the event.
That, however, was plenty of time for a full pot of controversy to brew.
With Pennsylvania state representative John Lawless' crusade against flaunted sex on campus still fresh in many Penn State students' minds, Flynt's arrival was inevitably going to cause some kind of allergic reaction. The Montgomery County Republican succeeded in removing $9,520 from Penn State's appropriations last spring after he charged that two campus events, Sex Faire and Cuntfest, used taxpayer dollars to fund them.
Sure enough, the symptoms appeared. Calls came into Penn State president Graham Spanier's office. Many callers demanded to know if taxpayer dollars were being used for yet another seemingly sexually oriented event.
But several in the Penn State administration, including Rod Kirsch, vice president for development and alumni relations, and Janis Jacobs, vice president of administration, said that there should be no restrictions on who is allowed to speak on campus.
"Anytime you have a speaker at a university, someone disagrees with them," said Steve McCarthy, vice president for university relations. "A university is supposed to be a marketplace of ideas and present different viewpoints so people can form their own opinions. The university will always be a place to go and express ideas."
And thanks to conservative Philadelphia radio host Dom Giordana whipping his listeners into an anti-Larry Flynt frenzy, the feedback that Penn State received increased.
Douglas Anderson, dean of the College of Communications, fielded most of the e-mail and phone calls.
Anderson received more than 120 e-mails, most of them apparently triggered from the list serve of urbanfamily.org, which is the web site for the Urban Family Council, a conservative group based in Philadelphia. The group's mission statement, according to its web site, is to "advocate for life, marriage and family" and bases its ideals around the Judeo-Christian ethics.
In the wake of the controversy, it was Flynt himself who set the record straight.
"One thing I want to make clear is that I came here on my own dime," the multi-millionaire said at the beginning of his speech, which drew a standing-room-only crowd of 500 at HUB Heritage Hall.
Flynt has become an expert at defending himself.
He has been sued numerous times and estimates that he has spent $50 million in legal fees. It was part necessity, but also part survival.
"When I was gunned down in the streets of Georgia and paralyzed," Flynt said, "I saw that pretty much as my life being over. And I made a calculated decision to spend the rest of my life devoted to expanding the parameters of free speech.
"If I can leave students with a kernel of truth and inspire them to make the world a better and safer place, my time coming here will be worthwhile."
That is his mission statement for his visits to college campuses. Flynt has spoken at many across the nation and worldwide.
But each campus offers a new challenge, a new accusation. Sometimes the surprises are benign, such as girls flashing their breasts at Flynt when he visited Yale. Other times, the speech can escalate into a passionate shouting match.
The point is, when you're Larry Flynt, you just never know.
As the roaring, black jet comes to a halt, the right side door drops down and the limo pulls ahead to meet it. Only then is it visible: Three-inch white letters to the left side of the door, spelling out the word Hustler.
Flynt might not travel to college campuses to promote his pornography, but it's difficult for most to separate the man from the magazine. After all, that's how he can afford this plane in the first place.
That becomes more obvious as his two pilots emerge, both wearing black jackets with Hustler in big, gold letters.
Bob Richards and Clay Calvert, the co-directors of the Pennsylvania Center for the First Amendment and Penn State professors, emerge from the car to greet the visitor.
And then they wait some more.
It is no easy task moving Larry Flynt from one place to another. After being shot outside of a Georgia courthouse in 1977, Flynt is paralyzed from the waist down and suffers considerable pain.
The first order of business is to carefully place his gold-plated wheelchair in the trunk of the limo. That is the job of bodyguard Doug Bauer, a large, physically dominating man with an intense facial expression who has served Flynt for 10 years.
The next task is to ready the limo, which is tended to by a petite woman with black hair cropped in a pageboy style.
That is the job of Flynt's wife, Liz, who has been his caretaker for the last decade.
After a few minutes, a figure seated on a small chair appears at the top of the steps. The bright lights of the cabin initially obscure his face, but the figure is revealed — that is Flynt.
"I don't think it is possible to discuss Larry Flynt intelligently without a very good understanding of what he publishes."
— Mary Beth Oliver, associate professor of communications
Hustler magazine is not in the same league as Playboy or 2 a.m. HBO porn. It depicts rape, torture and mutilation of women and overt racism.
In past issues, women have been portrayed as Holocaust victims who are raped and then killed. They have been chained, beaten and burned.
The most recent issue involves cartoons that depict black men as sex fiends with enormous genitalia.
One of Flynt's most notorious and disgusting Hustler covers was the "Meat Grinder," published in June 1978.
It was a picture of a woman's body being swallowed by a meat grinder, with only her lower torso and legs exposed. Sure enough, on the other end, sat bloody meat. Ironically, it was published in Flynt's born-again Christian phase of life, and the caption next to the picture read, "We will no longer hang women up like pieces of meat. — Larry Flynt."
"My concern was that if we (the College of Communications) don't do anything to acknowledge that he routinely publishes images of women being tortured and raped," Oliver said, "and images of African Americans as cannibalistic, oversexualized watermelon eaters, that we run the risk of being very insensitive."
Hustler's meat grinder cover created a backlash then, and it is still remembered today. Oliver made sure of it when she posted it on her office door in the Carnegie Building.
"Who is this woman?" the sign said. "Your mother? Your sister?"
Oliver makes it clear that just because she disagrees with Flynt does not mean that he should be censored. But she does think that the content has been glossed over in the effort to make him look like a First Amendment hero.
"I think it's possible to stand up for the First Amendment and simultaneously acknowledge that sometimes the First Amendment publishes things that can be very hurtful," Oliver said. "And to not acknowledge that hurt is a cause for concern. At least it was for me. That's what motivated me to do what I did."
Oliver's ideas have other vocal supporters. Feminist Majority Leadership Alliance president Alyssa Pinsker also said it is important to bring in controversial speakers to test the status quo, but she disagrees wholeheartedly with Flynt's content and motivations.
Pinsker said that most of his supporters are probably unfamiliar with the content of his publications and that they formed an opinion solely on the basis of his movie.
"I think Larry Flynt's mission is to make money," Pinsker said in an e-mail, "and now that he has made enough to fund his own evangelizing, I think he considers himself a figurehead of First Amendment rights and power."
In the question-and-answer session during his speech, Flynt essentially dodged the question that was posed about the negative effects his publications have against women. Flynt said that no woman who posed for Hustler had ever sued or even complained.
"I'm the first to concede that the when I started Hustler," Flynt said, "the only things I wanted to do was make money and have fun.
"Personally, I worship women."
Flynt has admitted that he is guilty of poor taste, but this has served to test the parameters of the First Amendment.
In 1983, he ran a mock Compari Liqueur ad in Hustler with renowned right-wing conservative minister Jerry Falwell talking about his first time having sex. According to the ad, Falwell lost his virginity to his mother in an outhouse. In small print at the bottom of the page were the words "ad parody — not to be taken seriously."
Falwell was outraged and sued. Flynt's case made it to the U.S. Supreme Court and in 1988, the Court unanimously ruled in Flynt's favor.
Chief Justice William Rehnquist, in the opinion, basically said that the government could not censor content simply because it was in poor taste.
Even before this landmark case, Flynt had spent hours researching the First Amendment and taking an active role in his defenses.
"He's not a detached client, and by that I mean some clients let their attorneys do all the work and don't even care about the issues themselves," Calvert said. "I think because he spent so much money on these cases, he has a vested interest besides his money and tries to learn about them."
Larry Flynt is a self-made millionaire who continues to work hard and expand his empire. There is no denying his business savvy or his intelligence.
Flynt Publications is more than just Hustler. Flynt's publishing empire includes more than 30 magazines, not all of which are of the "gentleman's" genre. Other publications include Big Brother, a skateboarding magazine; Hot Boats, a magazine devoted to speedboats; and Tips and Tricks, which is devoted to computer games.
He recently opened two stores called Hustler Hollywood, which sell coffee, Hustler apparel and pornography. Flynt also opened a card club in Southern California. According to Hoover's Online, a business web site, Flynt Publications' 2000 sales were estimated at $140 million.
Despite his many employees and all his wealth, there are two people in this world whom Flynt would probably be lost without — Liz and Doug.
Between the two of them, they manage to situate Flynt comfortably in the back of the limo. The trio are exhausted from the cross-country flight, but that doesn't stop Flynt from talking about his favorite subjects — law and the First Amendment.
As the limo snakes along the back roads to the Penn Stater, Flynt reveals that he has been working on a new speech especially for the event. He's written it mostly on his own, with some help from Liz
The new Mrs. Flynt is a shocking contrast to the wild Althea Leasure, Flynt's first wife, who died of AIDS in 1987. The former Liz Berrios worked as Flynt's nurse one day a week when she was not working at UCLA's Hospital's ICU.
Gradually, she became attracted to his sense of humor and charm. They began dating 10 years ago and have been married for three.
But life is hardly a fairytale, despite the fact that Liz Flynt's multi-carat diamond ring dominates her small left hand and she wears other jewelry that probably cost as much as four years of tuition at Penn State.
On the surface, the Flynts' marriage seems no different than most. Liz says she can ignore her husband's sordid past, including a number of sexual partners (somewhere in triple digits) that rivals that of former NBA star Wilt Chamberlain.
"What's in the past is in the past," Liz said. "My focus is on the present and the future."
They talk about everything from one of their schnauzers, Skippy, trying to hitch a ride with them in their van to the airport to what Larry wants for dinner.
When he misremembers an anecdote, Liz is there with a, "No, Larry. That was at Yale."
When his buffalo wing sauce and light ranch dressing smear his chin, she is there to wipe it away, every drop, every time.
And when he says something humorous, she is there to pat his cheek and flatter him with, "Oh, Larry!"
But Liz is not just a beautiful, supportive wife with good taste in jewelry and fashion. She takes an active role in Flynt Publications, serving as a vice president and one of the talent directors. She accompanies her husband on almost all of his travels and helps run his card club, located in Southern California.
However, that does not mean she or Doug is spared from Larry's teasing.
"Her, I found her at a dog and pony show in Tijuana," Flynt said with a smile, gesturing toward Liz.
His wife just sighs, shakes her head and dismisses it.
"Oh, that's just something silly he says because he knows I hate it," Liz said.
On the other hand, Bauer, who played himself in "The People vs. Larry Flynt, likes to challenge his boss.
When Flynt summons his bodyguard after dinner with a wave of his hand and an, "I'm ready to go," Bauer just stares at him for a few seconds, shakes his head and then gets out of his chair.
Despite the fact that Flynt constantly teases the physically imposing bodyguard about how much he eats, the jabs are part of the territory when you're in the Flynt inner circle. Bauer has spent most holidays with Hustler's publisher and has even been threatened with his job if he doesn't sit at the table and eat with him.
"How would I describe his personality?" Bauer asked. "Great. He's a gentleman. Very mellow, not easily excited, generous."
"Today, as a result of the movie and my autobiography, people tend to treat me a lot differently. Now I have 70-and 80-year-old little old ladies come up to me truly thanking me for what I did. So I got myself a whole new demographic genre." — Larry Flynt
In a conversation with Larry Flynt, it is to be expected that sex is a prevalent topic. He is, after all, the self-proclaimed pervert, which was portrayed in The People vs. Larry Flynt. Flynt essentially admitted as much with his tongue-in-cheek autobiography title An Unseemly Man: My Life as a Pornographer, Pundit and Social Outcast.
But you might never expect whom he considers to be his bedfellows in perversion: Jerry Falwell and former Speaker of the House Bob Livingston.
That is Flynt's take on the conservative right. It is obvious that he is not welcome in their fold, but he doesn't care.
He calls hard-core conservatives the "Falwellians," and will speak out against any of them.
And Falwell is again included. The two men now have a civil relationship and speak to each other on various occasions, but usually when one has a complaint. When Falwell said that the character Tinky Winky on the children's program "Teletubbies" was homosexual, Flynt gave him a call. Essentially, it was to tell Falwell that he said a dumb thing.
"I think Larry Flynt is not at all what people expect," Calvert said.
"I think they expect somebody who is going to look outrageous, act outrageous and sound outrageous. He certainly says some outrageous things, but I think he talks about issues that people wouldn't expect him to talk about."
Flynt is a calm man who is ruffled neither by accusations of molesting his daughter, Tonya, nor by losing his place in his notes in the middle of the speech.
He speaks very slowly, in a gravelly voice that could pass as that of wise old sage imparting his years of wisdom.
Flynt, 58, can speak confidently about anything from the 2000 election fiasco to the original intent of the founding fathers when they drafted the Constitution.
"I think people would be amazed that he's not surrounded by eight Hustler centerfolds or that he is not carrying around stacks of Hustler magazine to give them out," Calvert said.
"I think that to some extent, he has a disarming personality. Because he's very disarming when you see him up there in the wheelchair and a suit. He's talking slowly, he's talking about them rationally, whether you agree with the beliefs he's talking about or not."
That seems to be Flynt's legacy.
A controversial man.
A savvy businessman.
A freedom fighter.
"If I could be remembered for one contribution, it would be that I fought to expand the parameters of free speech," Flynt said.
"Beyond that, I don't know. I don't see my face on Rushmore."
