I remembered Brian Pillman, who met his demise when his wife Melanie was pregnant. He never experienced the joy of holding his son in his arms.
I could still feel the breeze of the summer wind against my hair the day that Rick Rude took me out for a spin in his new convertible. Although he appeared such a tough, abrasive ladies’ man to the fans who watched him each week on television, the truth is that he was a loving father who was torn from his family far too early.
I thought of Davey Boy Smith, the skinny young lad I knew from his early days as a teenage competitor on World of Sport, who went on to become an international sensation who wrestled all over the world. I know in my heart that he would have given up all of the sacrifices he made to create a lasting legacy, just to spend one more day with his children Harry and Georgia.
I imagined the cries of Chris and Brandi’s daughter Julia, who became orphaned after both parents lives unravelled at the seams, and all due to a series of bad choices.
All I could think of were the tears of these children, who had their parents taken away at a young age.
It drew my mind to my own children; Jade, Stephanie, and Cassidy.
I knew that it was only a matter of time before someone told them that their mother was gone.
I could not do that to them, knowing how they would feel. Their lives would be tainted by the question on whether they could have done something to help me.
They did.
I was determined to stop my family from crying those tears. I was determined to get clean.
I clung to the guilt of being one of the lucky few who had managed to survive my vices when so many others had faltered.
I owed it to each of my fallen friends to be their voice. In their names, I vowed to beat my addiction and share the story that they never got to tell on the crippling horror of drug abuse.
My mind had been willing for years, but my body had always refused the change. Even with all the will in the world, the severity of my crack addiction still led me to pursue it. I was living on borrowed time.
I knew that this was my final chance.
Although I was now going to receive professional help, there was still a daunting journey to undertake as I knew my drug rehabilitation wouldn’t be easy. I was in such a panic that I even bought some crack cocaine on the morning that I was due to be collected. Trembling, I feared that I couldn’t make the journey without it.
It was time to make the trip. A van pulled up outside my house and a friendly, warm man met me at the front door. I hugged Cassidy goodbye and we drove away to the clinic.
As we made our way up the motorway, I was already starting to get withdrawal symptoms. Once we arrived, my hidden stash was confiscated.
This was now it. I was checked in to the rehab centre.
After checking in, a lovely doctor talked me through the process. A team of experts had put together a withdrawal programme for me.
They had experience in the detox procedure, and knew how to treat the convulsions of patients with varying degrees of addiction.
My body was fighting hard against the drugs but the withdrawal symptoms made me so lethargic. There were times I wanted to give in, but I kept thinking of my daughters and how they would react knowing their efforts to help me had failed.
Not only was my body being challenged to battle addiction, my mind was as well. As part of the detox process, I was to attend group therapy sessions, where I would share my tales of addiction with other addicts in the centre.
The aim of these seminars was to understand the psychological and physical triggers of substance abuse.
Shane Douglas, former WCW wrestler: “So we were zigzagging half way across the country four nights in a row, but that was what was required and we did it proudly as we were making our way in the business, paying our dues as they say.
But as you do that it doesn’t take a brain surgeon to work out the rigours of the business; the aches and pains, the pulls and strains, the breaks and bruises that you eventually need something on top to numb not only the physical pain, but the boredom of life on the road and being away from your family.
The problem you have in wrestling is by being an independent contractor; if you don’t work, you don’t get paid.”
In my past, I had heard so many stories of how addictions had ruined lives. In the wrestling industry alone, I had seen the death and tragedy caused by drugs, and even heard sad tales of former beauties starring in hard-core pornography as a last resort to fund the mess they had become.
But seeing real people, talking about the loss of their jobs and families was heart-wrenching. It soon became clear that nobody in the therapy sessions were going to judge me or ridicule me for being an addict. It was a network of support, and talking through the burdens of the past was part of the healing process.
Another part of the healing process was the daily diet of assignments which we had to undertake. My first assignment was quite a benchmark for me. Our group was asked to summarise our life in ten pages and I suddenly realised the pain and tragedy I had experienced in my life. I broke down and cried.
In the treatment centre, I was told that one of the greatest joys about overcoming addiction is that I would get my feelings back. But it was also the worst thing about getting clean. Pains that were once subdued were coming back harder than ever.
The counsellor was so kind though and gave me a hug. I felt a lot of love and friendliness in the clinic, being amongst people who also suffered from the same affliction. We could all identify with each other.
I was starting to regain my health and strength and, within weeks, my body was finally clear of the drugs. I was a little wobbly, but I felt so fresh to have the substances cleared from my system.
With the programme slowly starting to work, I began to enjoy my surroundings. I had a lovely room in one of the houses that made up the clinic. There were beautiful views of the gardens which were full of flowers and of the fields with sheep peacefully grazing.
It was very tranquil and quiet and gave me a sense of inner peace.
As well as feeling a sense of mental peace, there was a marked improvement in my physical appearance. I no longer looked gaunt or washed-out, and I was noticeably healthier.
I soon had the added boost of a visit from Cassidy. In the short time I had been away, I could see that my little girl had grown into a level-headed young woman. She was still so young and I know that having a mum in rehab must have been difficult for her, but she was a real tower of strength, telling me to persevere and get better.
Even though I had a friend staying with her, I still worried for her coping around the house without me. But she never made any issue out of her circumstances; she was completely dedicated to making sure I was okay.
As Cassidy did not want to cause any undue stress to me, she did not let me know that Steve had found out about my stay in rehab from Stephanie. By February, he quickly arranged a one-way flight to stay with him in Los Angeles soon after the visit.
When I was told that Cassidy had left for the States, I was absolutely devastated. I blamed myself for her leaving, and that I had been selfish in not being there for her. I cried and I cried, believing that I deserved this agony for destroying our lives with my addiction to drugs.
Luckily, I was able to have phone privileges at the clinic, so I called Cassidy and Steve. I wanted to know she was okay living with her dad, who had been distant in recent years.
I promised Cassidy that I would continue to work at my rehabilitation at the clinic and that I would hopefully see her soon. She and Stephanie sent flowers and cards and they knew that this was the best place for me to get well.
By April, Cassidy called and said she was homesick and wanted to come back to England. I spoke to Steve about the possibility of her coming home to Southend, but he was not happy about the suggestion. He was certain I would have a relapse, but agreed nonetheless.
Steve and I both worked hard during that call to be civilised to each other, f
or once we both agreed in the best interests of Cassidy. I booked her a flight home, she would return in the first week of May.
That July, Stephanie returned from Los Angeles too, and both of the girls visited me. I was so happy to see them, and they were allowed to stay in the next room for a couple of nights. Once again, we were all under one roof. I felt so comforted to have my family around me.
By August 2014, I had completed my rehabilitation and had remained fully clean for three months before leaving the centre.
I will always be grateful to the staff for saving my life after seventeen years of being gripped by the misery of substance abuse.
I was finally free from addiction. It was time to rebuild our lives.
Arriving home after six months in rehab was a hugely daunting experience. It was going to be a massive challenge to get back into everyday normal life. For six months, I had been confined within a safe environment, with a regular routine of therapy and tasks.
Once I returned, my first obstacle was to face the consequences of my actions whilst I was an addict. The house had fallen into complete disarray and needed sorting. It was very sobering seeing the mess and devastation caused by my neglect. It took quite a while to put everything right, but in a way it was very therapeutic, clearing out my old life and putting things in order for a new one.
As I was getting my house in order, I sifted through the vast amounts paperwork which had been left and completely forgotten about. Scattered amongst a backlog of ignored bills, were a collection of unpaid speeding tickets.
I contacted a lawyer for advice, who told me that I would need to go to court for an official hearing. He forewarned me that I had accumulated enough points on the tickets to warrant a one-year ban from driving.
It was a real wake-up call as to how reckless I had been when using drugs, but I was willing to accept the decision. I was just relieved that my negligence had not caused anyone to have been injured.
During the hearing, the judge was sympathetic to my situation. He listened as I recounted my battle with addiction and subsequent commitment to rehab.
The judge could tell that I was committed to staying clean, and gave me a reduced 28-day ban. I was truly grateful that I had been given a second chance.
I wanted to celebrate my recovery and so I put my house on the market.
Within three months I had a buyer and started to pack. I felt it was time for a new beginning.
Stephanie came home from Los Angeles to visit Cassidy and me, and her return was such a happy occasion. Travelling to London, the three of us saw all the sights. We spent the whole time smiling and laughing throughout her stay, and the girls found what they deserved; after years of self-denial, they finally got the mother that they knew I could be.
With over two years of remaining clean, I have worked hard to earn back their trust.
They know that I have become free from the shackles of addiction, and I look forward to more memories filled with laughter and love. Despite an unsettled upbringing, they have become two amazing young women and I owe my life to them.
Today, they are my best friends and we have a fantastic relationship.
Cassidy Williams, daughter of Jeanie Clarke: “When my mum asked me to include my feelings about the past, so many memories flooded my mind. A lot of which I didn't want to bring to the surface as our joint past remained in a closet for a very long time. My mother’s addiction was obvious to me from an early age. Evidence of her drug use was easy to find and I would work tirelessly to get rid of it in any way I could, regardless of her reaction.
As the situation worsened, my sister and I grew closer but I still had to grow up fast. I often wondered whether contacting my dad would be a good idea but I always pushed it away, never thinking it was possible. From this point on, the situation was never any better.
By 2013, my sister had been living in L.A for a while. During my time alone I had begun to notice things which I had never seen before, all of which pointed towards something worse than I had ever experienced, and all of which I blatantly ignored, due to my fear of the past.
Picking up on this caused my relationship with my mother to severely deteriorate. I began to be very hateful as I was unable to understand why she was doing this to herself and me. My sister was oblivious to this as I didn't want her to relive this situation as I was doing; however during her visit at Christmas in 2013 my mother admitted to her abuse of a Class A drug. My sister was heartbroken, as was I. Although we wanted to help, helping was all we had ever known.
By this point my sister had to leave and once again I was on my own. But after finding out my mother was still addicted, even though she had promised to get clean, I finally decided to take the situation into my own hands by calling a rehab to which my mother agreed to go to. She left the next morning.
After the rehab process had exited our lives, we started to bond again. Not as a mother and daughter but as best friends. I had finally begun to understand the meaning of her addiction.
Although it has been extremely hard growing up as my mother’s child, seeing her deteriorate and having to cope with that from such a young age, I have never been prouder of her. Seeing how we have come through this and finally defeated that which has haunted us for so long has made me realise how strong my mother really is.
Mum, you are my best friend and seeing you finally able to laugh and smile is something I am so happy to be able to share with you.
I love you.”
24 IN GOD WE TRUST
When I set about writing my autobiography, I promised myself one thing; that I would tell a no-holds-barred truthful account of my life.
In many ways, this was a chance at retribution. I have had some amazing experiences and wanted to share these joys, but I also made a number of bad decisions and needed to examine the reasons why I made them, in order to complete the healing process.
It is the pleasure and the pain in life that has given me my character, and it has given me tremendous strength through some dark times. I would like to thank you, my reader, for following me on this journey of discovery into who I am.
The level of support I had during the production of my autobiography was overwhelming. After getting a call from Steve Lynskey, a local talent agent, he made an enquiry whether I would consider doing a signing at a recent convention. I was convinced nobody would remember me, or be interested in learning about my life.
I eventually agreed, and I ended up being so glad that I chose to go.
One of the most amazing experiences for me during the writing of this book was the fact that I was able to meet so many great fans and a number of my former colleagues, all of whom offered support and seemed genuinely interested in hearing my story.
Adrian Street, former wrestler: “[My valet and wife] Linda and I first met Jeanie in California in 1982… She’s really a lady who’s been there and done that, on both sides of the Atlantic, when it comes to wrestling.”
I am grateful for my time in the wrestling industry, as it has allowed me to connect to an audience during my personal journey. Even today, I get kind messages from fans and colleagues who fondly remember the wicked antics of my on-screen persona.
James Beard, former WCCW referee: “I’m sure most wrestling fans who watched World Class or WCW in the 1980s and 90s, especially of the male persuasion, have a particular image of Jeanie Clarke (or Lady Blossom, as she was called in WCW). That image, most certainly, has to do with her strikingly beautiful face and the image of her in a low cut evening gown standing at ringside as a distracting figure who gave her then husband, Steve Austin, an advantage at just the right time during his matches. But for me, when I think of Jeanie Clarke, the first word that comes to me is ‘class’.
I certainly am not blind to Jeanie’s physical gifts, but the Jeanie I know is much more than simply someone whose appearance was her only value. She is an extremely intelligent, business savvy and down to earth lady who is as sweet on the inside as she is beautiful on the outside.<
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Jeanie has seen and experienced the wrestling business from a very unique perspective. The two well known and significant relationships she had with Chris Adams and Steve Austin put her in situations with and around an elite class of talent from an era of wrestling that, in my opinion, was the most exciting time for the business. But, Jeanie not only saw it as someone who was in those relationships, dealing with that side of things, but as someone who actually participated in the business, as well. So, she understands and has experienced the wrestling business in more ways than most and she has a wonderful and interesting story to tell because of those experiences.”
But although I have some wonderful memories, I was also saddened to lose so many friends who succumbed to the temptations that touring performers have to face.
Within a few weeks of beginning writing, I received a call from Ken Sowden from the British Wrestlers’ Reunion. He asked if I would like to accept a Lifetime Achievement Award in recognition of the late Chris Adams’ professional wrestling career on the 9th August 2015 in Kent.
I was thrilled to be offered his award at a ceremony held at The Bridges, a cosy tavern owned by British wrestling great Wayne Bridges.
On the big day, I felt like my journey in the wrestling business had come full circle. I reconnected with many names from the rich history of the UK circuit, from Mal Sanders, Steve Grey and Lee Bronson to Johnny Kincaid, Clive Myers and Colin Joynson. It brought back lots of wonderful memories from an innocent time in my life.
It was such an honour to accept the award from Chris’ peers within the wrestling fraternity and around six hundred fans that beautiful summer day. What made it more special was that the plaque was presented by Tony ‘Banger’ Walsh, and that Jackie Turpin was also there to celebrate Chris’ accomplishments and legacy.
However, after I accepted the award, I felt a great sadness which made the occasion bittersweet. Seeing Walsh and Turpin together, but without Chris, was the first time that it really sank in that Adams was dead.
Through The Shattered Glass Page 25