I began filming the Walker series in January 1993 and had completed only four episodes when Cannon Films, the company paying the lion's share of the production costs for the series, went bankrupt, and the series was shelved. It was a sad time for me because I really enjoyed doing the show.
Fortunately, about four months later CBS decided to cover the full cost of producing the series, something that is rarely done nowadays. Most television shows are financed by outside groups and sold to the networks for airing, but CBS was so convinced that Walker had potential, they were willing to take the risk.
Before long I resumed filming and took on the role of executive producer as well. I brought my brother Aaron on as my coexecutive producer. Aaron had become an accomplished movie director and producer by this time. More importantly, Aaron and I had the same heart, the same attitude. He understood what I wanted to do. My son, Eric, was the stunt coordinator and later became one of my best directors.
I never worked harder in my life than I did those first few years of Walker, putting in sixteen-hour days, at least six days a week, and often seven. Each week Aaron and I worked right up until the moment we had to deliver the program to CBS, still fine-tuning and editing. We took a short break around Christmastime, and then we were right back on location in Dallas, filming in the cold weather as well as the searing hot summers. We were writing the scripts and producing what we felt was a mini-movie every week on the Walker set. It was a wonderfully creative but exhausting time in my life, but the fans of the program loved Walker, Texas Ranger, and that kept me going. Walker became the most successful Saturday night series on television since the legendary Western, Gunsmoke.
Not surprisingly, many television critics skewered Walker as being too violent. I was disappointed but not upset. We had an old-time cowboy feel to our show, and our characters frequently got in fights and fired guns. And of course, Walker won a lot of altercations by incorporating his knowledge of the martial arts. That made us a violent show to some people. What the critics chose to ignore, of course, was the fact that the good guys on Walker never used violence if there were any other means of apprehending the criminals, and even then we always showed the violence being used as a last resort and as a means of good conquering evil.
Despite being panned by the critics, the public embraced Walker, Texas Ranger, and soon Walker was not only a well-established program on CBS; it became one of the top-rated shows on television. Maybe that's the reason Peter Jennings, star of the ABC television network news programs, asked me to take part in a special program highlighting the problems in our schools. When Peter invited me to come to Washington, D.C., he said, “We know that you have a foundation that works with at-risk children. We're going to have children from various schools across America in the audience, and we're going to talk about what's going on in the schools. We're going to have several celebrity guests, including Janet Reno, a female rap singer, and a psychologist. We'd like you to come and talk about the problems in schools but also to talk about how your foundation is helping to solve some of those concerns.”
I was working sixteen-hour days on the set of Walker, six days a week, and I really didn't have time in my schedule to do the program. But I thought, I have to do this. It would be a great opportunity to introduce our KICKSTART program to America to let people know how successful the program has been and what tremendous results we are seeing in the lives of kids in the Texas schools.
I rearranged my entire shooting schedule so I could take the day away from the show, fly to Washington, and be on the Peter Jennings special.
The set was divided into four sections, with each guest in a section and the kids sitting on bleachers among us. Peter Jennings began his introductions with Janet Reno. “And we are delighted to have with us today, the esteemed US Attorney General, Janet Reno. Thank you, Attorney General Reno, for being here today.” He introduced the psychologist and the rapper.
Peter then turned toward me and said, “And I would like to introduce Chuck Norris, who has the most violent program on television.”
That was my introduction.
I realized instantly that I had been set up, that I'd walked into a trap again, similar to the one I had encountered with Phil Donahue years earlier. Peter Jennings wasn't interested in how KICKSTART could help kids raise their self-esteem, get off drugs, get out of gangs, and start living productive lives. He obviously had an entirely different agenda from the one he'd proposed to me in asking me on his show.
I wasn't going to sit back and allow his statement to go unchallenged. I didn't know if it was my turn to talk or not, but I jumped right in. “I'd like to rebut that, Peter. If you ever watch the show, which I doubt that you do, you'd see that Walker, Texas Ranger deals with good versus evil. Walker is a family show, and if you went through our mail from viewers, you'd realize that families are sitting down together on Saturday night to watch this show and that Walker is one of the few programs on television that families can enjoy watching together.”
That set the tone for a virulent hour of discussion between Peter, the panel, and the audience. When Peter asked one young woman on the bleachers her opinion concerning the violence on television, she responded, “We know the difference between reality and the movies. If you don't, you're really stupid!”
Peter didn't ask that young woman any further questions. He really started to get hot, as the discussion turned in a direction he hadn't anticipated. It got worse yet when Peter Jennings introduced a rap song with sleazy, violent lyrics, in an effort to illustrate the pernicious material being recorded by rappers. As the song played over the speakers, the female rap music artist just sat there, staring straight ahead.
When the song ended, she looked up at Peter Jennings, and said, “Peter, that's not me. That's not even my song. That's somebody else!”
The production department had made a mistake; they'd literally gotten the wrong music from the wrong rap artist as an illustration. Peter Jennings was flabbergasted. “What do you mean that's not you?”
“That's not my music,” the rapper repeated.
I could see heads rolling in the ABC production department.
I can't say that I was sorry to see Peter Jennings so thoroughly discredited in front of his own audience. In a way it served him right for attempting to stack the deck to support his own prejudices, a procedure that is extremely common on most network news programs and the supposedly “unbiased documentaries” on television today. That's one reason many conservative leaders refuse to engage in the programs: the utter bias of the host precludes a fair representation of the issues. On the other hand, that's also why programs that do make an honest attempt to present both sides of an issue are thriving.
I felt no great sense of glee over Peter's embarrassment; I was too angry at him. I was thoroughly disgusted that I had allowed myself to be pulled away from my work and to be lured to Washington on false pretenses. I had come to promote something wonderful, good, and wholesome, and we had hardly talked at all about KICKSTART and the ways it could help kids.
I decided that from now on I'd make my own publicity for KICKSTART, and when people realized the good that can be done in schools, they would rally to our side. Every life matters to God, so every life must matter to us.
I had one goal in mind with Walker, Texas Ranger. I wanted a show that the entire family could watch—a show with enough action for dad but not so much violence that children shouldn't watch. Also I wanted to portray good, healthy relationships between men and women and clean humor, so women, especially moms, could enjoy the shows, too.
I believe we accomplished that goal with Walker, Texas Ranger. One of the highlights of our run at CBS was the chance to inject several faithbased episodes into primetime. Getting spiritual content on television nowadays is not nearly as difficult as it was in the past. Today's television producers and network executives are quite open to spiritual concepts. Consequently, there are all sorts of weird religious cults and “out there” characters
on television. But getting Judeo-Christian values—biblically based ideas, characters, and story lines that accurately reflect wholesome morals and a biblical worldview—on television is another problem entirely.
That's why when we were able to create and air episodes of Walker that told a gripping, compelling story that genuinely glorified God, I was extremely pleased. Those programs were some of my most gratifying episodes, and, interestingly enough, some of our highest rated shows! In fact, the first time Walker became a top-ten show (a real accomplishment for a program airing on Saturday night), it was a faith-based episode called “The Neighborhood.”
The story was about a twelve-year-old African-American girl who lived in the ghetto. While walking home from school one day, she got caught in the middle of a gang war and was accidentally shot and critically wounded.
She is in the hospital when Walker arrives to investigate the incident and is told by one of her doctors that she is bleeding internally, and there is nothing they can do. The little girl is dying.
Miraculously, she recovers, leaving the doctors in total shock. She says that she was on her way to heaven when an angel stopped her and told her that it was not her time; she still had a job to do on earth, to clean up her neighborhood. At the end of the episode, she gets the people in the neighborhood to clean up the graffiti and chase the drug dealers out. At a Christian revival, she convinces the two rival gangs to come together peacefully.
I loved that episode, along with many more that were similarly close to my heart and reflected my faith in God. I've never been a Bible-thumper, but in subtle ways, when the opportunity was available, I tried to inject a positive message in our programs.
One of our many guest stars on Walker was Gary Busey, a sincere Christian who has had some ups and downs in his journey but continues to trust God. During a break from filming, Gary and I began talking about our faith. I told him that my wife, Gena, and I read the Bible together every morning and that the Scripture helps me not only with my spiritual walk but also with my emotional attitude toward life.
Gary said, “That's what the letters of the Bible mean: Basic Instructions Before Leaving Earth.”
I had never heard that acronym before, but I said, “You know, Gary, you are absolutely right!”
Over the years we had numerous celebrity guests starring with us on episodes of Walker. We had everyone from famous actors such as Stuart Whitman to television stars such as Lee Majors to football and baseball great, Dion Sanders, to country music stars Colin Raye, Leanne Rimes, and Barbara Mandrell.
Bob Green, one of my black belts living in Oklahoma City, called me one day and told me that a friend of his, Tirk Wilder, a country singer, had written a song about Walker. The song was called “The Eyes of a Ranger.” He asked, “Would you like to see it, Chuck?”
“Sure, send it to me in Dallas,” I told him. When the song arrived, I read the lyrics, and thought, This is great! The writer really has captured what the show is all about. My next thought was to get country artist Randy Travis to sing the song. Randy is a good friend, and I knew that he possessed a strong belief in God and the kind of values we wanted to portray on Walker. Not to mention that he has an incredible singing voice that seemed to be a perfect match for our style of show.
I sent the song on to CBS, saying, “I've found a song that I think will work well as a theme song for Walker. I'd like to get Randy Travis to sing it.”
CBS responded, “We like the song, but we don't think Randy should sing it. We think you should sing it.”
“Me? I'm not a singer! Maybe in the shower once in a while, but that's about it.…”
“No, we think you should sing it, or else we don't want to use it.”
Most actors have a secret desire to sing, and most singers have a secret desire to act, and I'm no different, so I said, “OK, let me go into the recording studio, and see what I can do.” I felt sure that once CBS heard how badly I sang, they'd recant and gladly allow Randy to sing the song!
I went to a recording studio in LA to record my vocal parts for “The Eyes of a Ranger.” The instrumental background music had already been recorded, so all I had to do was sing my vocals. I felt like I sounded awful as I sang the song, but the producer and engineer were so patient with me and so encouraging, I kept trying to do the song better. On some portions of the song, I spoke the lyrics similar to what Johnny Cash might have done because there was simply no way I could sing them. I guess you could call me a “country rapper.”
It took nearly twelve hours for me to record my parts, but thanks to the miracles of modern recording procedures, the song didn't sound half bad! I could hardly believe the voice I was hearing in the studio playback speakers was mine!
CBS loved it, and the song became the theme song for Walker, Texas Ranger.
Singing the song in the studio, with the help of modern technology, was one thing, but two years later CBS wanted me to sing the song live for a special New Year's Eve program they were producing. CBS had invited singers from various cities around the nation to sing in the new year, and they wanted me to represent Dallas-Fort Worth. My portion of the special was to be shot live in Fort Worth at Billy Bob's, a large country dance nightclub that received national attention as a result of the 1970s movie, Urban Cowboy, starring John Travolta and Debra Winger.
For some reason that I cannot explain to this day, I agreed to do the show. I went to Fort Worth to Billy Bob's, and Tirk Wilder, the writer of the song, brought his band to back me up.
An enormous New Year's Eve crowd had gathered at Billy Bob's, and as I was standing backstage behind the curtain, waiting to go on, I was sweating bullets! I was as nervous as I've ever been! I thought, What am I doing here? Am I out of my mind? I was pacing back and forth, kicking myself for ever agreeing to do this crazy thing.
I heard the band playing the introduction to the song, the emcee announcing my name, and the enthusiastic cheers of the crowd. I knew there was no turning back. I walked onto the stage, and Tirk handed me a microphone. I muddled my way through the verses of the song, and Tirk and the band members joined in on the choruses. The crowd went nuts! No doubt, some of their musical tastes had been slightly impaired by the amount of alcoholic beverages they had imbibed, but I appreciated their enthusiastic response nonetheless!
Afterward CBS gave me a tape of my live singing debut. I cracked up laughing when I saw my performance. I had stood on the stage, looking like a deer caught in the headlights; my eyes were as big as saucers as I attempted to sing, hugging that microphone, and singing with a total lack of emotion or pizzazz.
I laughed and said, “OK, that teaches me a lesson. I'm never going to do that again! I'd rather face ten black belt attackers than sing live!” Nevertheless, the Billy Bob's experience was good for me because once again I had done something I had thought I could never do. That in itself made it a worthwhile, fun adventure for me, although I apologize to you country music lovers who endured my debut.
We aired our last episode of Walker, Texas Ranger, a two-hour finale, on April, 6, 2001. It was an emotional time for all of us as we gathered for a wrap party on the set. Many of the cast and crew had worked together for eight seasons; we were as close to a family as it gets on a television series. As we finished our final day's work together, I spoke briefly to the cast and crew. I didn't dare talk too long for fear that I would burst out crying. There were plenty of tears to go around, anyhow, as we all said our farewells.
As we closed up the Walker set, I looked over at my wife, Gena, and said, “Let's go home.”
When I began working on the series, I thought that Walker had the potential to run for three or four years. Never did I believe it would go for eight years! CBS might have picked it up for a ninth season, but by then, Gena was pregnant, and I didn't want to be tied down for the time that a series demands. Gena was carrying twins, and I knew she would need my help. I could never have imagined in my wildest dreams how much help and prayer Gena and the babies would need!
If you would like to catch any of the 203 episodes, they are being aired on the USA Network Channel. I should also mention that Walker, Texas Ranger is the highest-rated syndicated show on the USA Network Channel.
CHAPTER 23
THE TOTAL GYM STORY
About twenty-five years ago I injured the rotator cuff in my shoulder while doing curls with heavy weights on a bench press. I worked through rehabilitation exercises for about four months, using a series of light weights trying to rebuild my strength, but the shoulder was no better. I was nearly ready to give in to my doctors' opinions and have an operation on my shoulder when I received a telephone call from two guys in San Diego who had a new exercise machine they had developed for rehabilitation exercises.
“We saw something in the news about your injury,” one of the guys said, “and before you have an operation, you may want to try this. It's brand-new; we just invented it, and we think it might help you without you having to go through the pain, hassle, and other destructive aspects of an operation.”
Because of my visibility in the martial arts community, and later in the film industry, I often received pitches for new products. Some of them were interesting and worthwhile; many were not. But for some reason, when the Total Gym guys called, even though I'd never before met them and knew nothing about them, I felt compelled to consider their new exercise machine. What do I have to lose? I thought. If it doesn't work, I can still have the operation.
I called my doctor and told him that I wanted to put off the operation for a while. Much to his chagrin, I explained to him that I wanted to try one more rehab machine before going under the knife.
Tom Campanero and Larry Westfall, the inventors of the Total Gym, came to my home in the Rolling Hills section of LA and set up their machine in the house. The machine seemed simple enough, just a series of pulleys on a flat, padded bench press. Rather than using heavy weights or complicated machine settings, the Total Gym incorporates your own weight, as you pull your body along an easy-gliding frame. The angle of the board increases or decreases the difficulty of the exercises. It seemed almost too simple as I watched the guys showing me a series of exercises, but it was clear that the exercises they prescribed provided a serious workout for the areas of the body I was concerned about. I tried the machine, and I could definitely feel its effects.
Against All Odds: My Story Page 17