Life of Evel: Evel Knievel

by Stuart Barker

  As hundreds of arms were raised and many worshippers began sobbing, it was clear that Knievel had lost none of his touch for working an audience. As sunlight streamed into the cathedral through the building’s 10,000 windows and lit upon the palms and sumptuous surroundings therein, the Rev. Robert H. Schuller looked on proudly as his latest convert accepted God into his heart.

  Schuller had founded the Crystal Cathedral Ministry back in 1955 and had become one of America’s most famous TV evangelists in the intervening years. As his health continued to deteriorate, Knievel had taken to watching the Cathedral Ministry’s Hour of Power broadcasts on television which went out to more than 100 countries across the globe. Inspired by what he saw and heard during these broadcasts, Knievel contacted Schuller with a view to being publicly baptised. Schuller initially admitted to having doubts about Knievel, given his reputation for adultery, drinking and general wild ways, but he was eventually persuaded that Knievel was a changed man and agreed to baptise him on Palm Sunday, 2007.

  But there may have been another reason why Knievel was accepted; the Crystal Cathedral Ministry had been undergoing some hard times of late. The congregation’s long-time orchestra conductor had recently committed suicide in a church toilet and, according to reports in Christianity Today, revenues from the Hour of Power show had come up $3 million short in 2006. The ministry clearly needed a turnaround in fortunes and the publicity that a triumph of ‘good winning over Evel’ promised may have been too tempting to ignore.

  While he may have chosen to revert to his Christian name of Robert, Knievel seemed unwilling to completely disassociate himself from the name which still paid the bills and was accordingly baptised under the name Robert ‘Evel’ Knievel. He told the audience of his joy at the occasion: ‘I want to scream to the world that I am a born-again Christian and I’m so proud of it. I’m just so proud of it. Thank you, thank you.’

  Following Knievel’s baptism, something of a religious frenzy broke out as hundreds of weeping worshippers spontaneously decided to re-affirm their faith or get baptised for the first time. Christianity Today reported that ‘between 500 and 800 people committed or re-dedicated their lives to God’ following Knievel’s baptism. Rev. Schuller told the religious magazine, ‘We started singing “Amazing Grace” and I started baptising people – baptising them as fast as I could. I had a little candy dish of water. “What’s your name?” “Okay, I baptise you in the name of the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit” – crying the whole time and going to the next one.’

  Schuller, assisted by four other pastors, continued this for a full 30 minutes until the frenzy abated. It seemed the ailing stuntman still had the power to change people’s lives.

  The ceremony marked a monumental turnaround in Knievel’s attitude towards religion and, in particular, towards televangelists. In the past he had often lambasted men such as Jimmy Swaggart and Jim Bakker and raged, ‘Who knows what these preachers are doin’ with our money? They’re scam artists, and (it’s) all tax free. It’s the biggest scam in the world, religion.’

  Yet here was Knievel accepting Jesus Christ into his life in front of TV cameras and an assembly of thousands, struggling for breath without the oxygen tube he now required at most times, but singing the praises of the Lord and asking others to join him in his ecstasy. The reason for Knievel’s about-turn was simple – he knew he had only months to live. He had to make his peace with God.

  Three years previously, in 2004, Knievel had been told he had idiopathic pulmonary fibrosis (IPF), a terminal and rare condition which causes scarring and thickening of the surface of the insides of the lungs. The cause of the disease remains unknown (hence the term idiopathic) but the condition progressively attacks the lungs and leads to reduced transfer of oxygen to the bloodstream. Knievel was given three years at most to live: and this time there was no hope of a last-minute, life-saving operation as there had been for his liver disease. There is no known cure for pulmonary fibrosis. Father Time had played his trump card against his old adversary, Evel Knievel.

  Knievel’s condition was made even worse by the fact that he was also having to deal with diabetes, hepatitis C, the ongoing effects of his liver transplant, a hip replacement, a fused spine, and all the aches and pains from countless broken bones over the years. It seemed there was little else fate could throw at him; he was like a walking, breathing medical reference book.

  Although the causes of IPF are unknown to the medical establishment, Knievel himself felt sure he knew what had brought it on in his own case. He told Motor Cycle News that ‘the fibrosis was caused by a drug called Interferon; it was given to me for my liver transplant to stop the transplant rejecting. Interferon caused this terrible breathing problem I have and what it has done is harden my lungs. I should never have had them use Interferon on me, they should have used a vitamin pill called Alpha Lipoic acid. It’s one of the most wonderful vitamin pills in the world and it keeps the fibrosis under control.’

  Knievel was prescribed medicated lollipops to help ease the pain from his oft-broken back which was now fused in three places. His daredevil past was finally catching up with him and extracting a heavy price for the fame and wealth it had once given him. The lollipops contained the painkilling drug Phentanol and Knievel explained that ‘The amount in these suckers is 80 times stronger than morphine. I take three of these a day for pain – you can’t believe how much pain I am in all the time. I’ve had seven breaks in my back and these help me with that. But I’m going to have to live with this pain until I die.’

  By late 2006 the lollipops were no longer enough and Knievel was forced to have an operation to fit an internal morphine pump in his stomach to help ease the agony in his lower back caused by so many jarring landings and fractured vertebrae. He explained, ‘This (pump) sends morphine and synthetic heroin into my back 24 hours a day. It’s awfully strong – it affects your thinking, your brain.’

  Yet while his body was failing him, Knievel’s tougher-than-nails character remained. His spirit was undaunted and he faced the news of his imminent death with the same courage and bravery he had shown over so many years. Knievel was even practical about the devastating news and had the gravestone which was originally made in 1974 in case the Snake River Canyon jump went wrong brought out of storage in preparation for his dying day. The stone had been stored by a Knievel family friend, Alma Barry, for over 30 years after the canyon debacle.

  Despite his worsening health problems, Knievel had stubbornly remained in the public eye. In January of 2005 he had once again become embroiled in the US judicial system, this time attempting to sue an American website which had published a picture of him with Krystal and another young lady and added the caption ‘You’re never too old to be a pimp.’ Knievel claimed the caption damaged his image but the US Appeals court did not agree, the judge ruling that, in the context of its usage, the term had lost its derogatory meaning. He even went so far as to say that it was probably intended as a compliment. Knievel made some noises about appealing but in the end, the matter simply died away.

  When the fourth annual Evel Knievel Days festival rolled around in July of the same year, Knievel was so ill that Krystal refused to ride pillion with him during the event. Knievel, still showing a sense of humour, grunted that he would ‘ride with a naked blow-up doll instead’.

  Krystal’s fears were well founded however. During a gentle ride-out a few months previously, Evel had been forced to flag down a passing motorist for help in turning his bike which was now clearly too heavy for him to manoeuvre unassisted.

  It is doubtful if Knievel was cheered up much by the first showings of the made-for-TV movie, Evel Knievel, in the same year. The film proved to be every bit as lightweight as George Hamilton’s 1971 effort of the same name, and was soon relegated to late night showings on obscure satellite channels. The gritty, true-to-life biopic of Knievel’s life that Pure Evel promised to be remained unmade.

  Knievel was by now being fed a constant su
pply of oxygen through a tube to keep him alive. Even with this aid his breathing was still laboured and he was constantly trying to clear his throat as the pressurised gas dried it out. ‘The most precious commodity in the world is pure oxygen,’ he bemoaned, ‘and I can’t even get enough of that any more.’ The once famous Knievel swagger had been reduced to a shuffling gait as the sad figure pulled the life-giving canister of oxygen around behind him like a ball and chain. It was a sorry sight to see the man who so many kids had once thought of as superhuman shuffling around in short steps and gasping for every breath. And things were only going to get worse.

  In June of 2007, Knievel was hospitalised after suffering from a second stroke. His son Robbie decided to go ahead with a jump over $40 billion in fake cash (for reasons best known to the jump’s promoters) in Wilmington, Delaware, but he was clearly anxious about his father’s health, as he explained to the American TV channel Fox prior to the jump. ‘My dad’s not doing good – he just had another stroke yesterday,’ he said. ‘He’s in the hospital and they’re doing some MRI (magnetic resonance imaging) scans. That’s his second stroke and he’s got pulmonary fibrosis. He’s had a hip replacement and 15 or 17 major operations where they cut him open to put steel in him or take it out of him. I’m just going to keep on continuing to keep the name Knievel the most famous on two wheels. I’m like the last of the last.’

  After so many years of feuding, father and son were finally on speaking terms in the twilight of Evel’s life, but Robbie still had to choose his conversations carefully to avoid his father’s wrath. ‘He doesn’t have long to live now,’ he admitted. ‘I tell him all the time that I just want us to have a father-son relationship. I don’t want to talk business.’

  Robbie also admitted to USA Today that following in his famous father’s footsteps as he had done was always going to be difficult. ‘He never wanted anyone to surpass him,’ he said. ‘For years, it seemed like my dad was pushing me off, like I was his competitor. He just never wanted to move over. I could never fill his shoes anyway. It’s like being Elvis’ daughter or Muhammad Ali’s son.’

  Evel attended the sixth annual Evel Knievel Days festival in Butte in July of 2007, though he was clearly in extremely poor health. The festival included the usual stunt displays, live bands and general partying over three days, with the highlight as ever being an appearance by the man himself. As things turned out, it would prove to be Knievel’s last public appearance in his home town.

  Knievel had accepted his prognosis manfully and, while he admitted to having some regrets while reflecting on the incredible life he had led, he seemed ready to make his final leap into the unknown. He told Motor Cycle News, ‘I’ve done things that I’m not proud of that I wish I could erase from the scorecard. But I’ll tell you, it’s been a good ride. It’s been a good ride, but I’m done. I’m absolutely done…done with life I mean.’

  In September it was announced that a $7 million Evel Knievel roller coaster would be built in St Louis. David Roemer of Six Flags St Louis – the company behind the venture – said his fun park’s eighth roller coaster would be a tribute to the ‘king of adrenaline’ and would open in 2008. The coaster, which will reach heights of 82 feet and speeds of up to 50 miles per hour, is intended to give passengers some idea of the thrills and adrenalin experienced by Knievel during one of his jumps.

  And still the tributes and honours kept rolling in. The same month saw the opening of Evel Knievel: the Rock Opera at the Bootleg Theatre in Los Angeles to rave reviews. Steven Mikula of the LA Weekly said ‘Evel Knievel is directed with such over-the-top gusto by Keythe Farley and brought to such gaudy life by an energetic ensemble and design team that we forgive its flaws’, while the Los Angeles Times called the show ‘a daring jump into theatre’. Buoyed by the positive reviews of the premier, composer Jef Bek said he hoped to eventually take the show to Las Vegas and beyond. It seemed there was nothing – even an opera – that the Evel Knievel brand couldn’t be successfully applied to.

  Remaining in the limelight even as his health continued to deteriorate (Knievel had by now outlived the life expectancy he was quoted three years previously), in November Knievel reached an undisclosed out-of-court settlement with rapper Kanye West after months of wrangling over the music video West had made to accompany his 2006 song ‘Touch the Sky’. In the video, which also starred Pamela Anderson, West re-created Knievel’s Snake River Canyon leap and played a character called Evel Kanyevel. Knievel claimed the ‘vulgar and offensive’ images contained in the video damaged his reputation and breached his copyrighted image while also ‘promoting filth to the world’. The ‘filth’ referred to was presumably the bad language in the dialogue half way through the video, but since most stations dubbed this out, it was usually offensive only by suggestion. However, after West visited Knievel at his condo in Clearwater on 27 November, the ailing daredevil changed his opinion of the 29-year-old rapper and said ‘I thought he was a wonderful guy and quite a gentleman.’

  The pair, who agreed not to discuss the settlement in public, were pictured standing together by Knievel’s fireplace. Dressed all in black, Knievel looked frail and gaunt but no one could have guessed that this would be the last public image of the most famous daredevil in history. Sadly, it was: three days after the picture was taken, Evel Knievel died.

  On Friday 30 November 2007, Evel Knievel’s granddaughter, Krysten Knievel, broke the news that her grandfather had finally lost his long-running battle with his greatest opponent – death. He had cheated it on countless occasions, tempted it on just as many and, in his latter years, grimly struggled against its stealthy, ever-tightening grip on him, but in the end, the world was saddened to hear that the man they had thought of when they were kids as an indestructible, real-life superhero was in fact mortal like themselves. The opening lines of the official statement read:

  Friday, November 30 marked the end of what will forever be remembered as the longest and most courageous battle between one man, a man we all know as the world’s greatest daredevil, and death. Robert Craig ‘Evel’ Knievel died in Clearwater, Florida, finally succumbing after nearly a three-year bout with the terminal lung disease, idiopathic pulmonary fibrosis. He was 69.

  In the end, Knievel’s death was not ‘glorious’ as George Hamilton predicted in his 1971 movie of Evel’s life. He did not crash and burn in a blaze of glory or smash himself to pieces on a canyon wall in front of a TV audience of thousands; he simply ran out of breath and collapsed on the floor of the modest condominium in Clearwater, Florida that he called home. His son Kelly explained: ‘He got up Friday morning and he couldn’t breathe very well…they called the paramedics…they barely got him to the hospital before he died.’

  Long-time friend and promoter Bill Rundle later corrected this statement by revealing that Evel had actually slipped away en route to the local hospital and was pronounced dead upon arrival. ‘It’s been coming for years,’ he said ‘but you just don’t expect it. Superman just doesn’t die, right?’

  It had been coming for years and if there was any comfort to be found for family and friends in their loss it was that, at last, the man they idolised and cared about was finally released from the constant pain he had been suffering from for so long. His faith intact and his peace made with God, Evel Knievel had taken his final leap – from this world to the next, and had broken free from the pain which had crippled him.

  Kelly paid tribute to his father’s brave battle against disease. ‘I think he lived 20 years longer than most people would have,’ he said. ‘I think he willed himself into an extra five or six years.’

  As the news spread, tributes began flooding in from family, famous friends and millions of fans who realised that, with Knievel’s passing, a part of their childhood was now gone forever.

  Richard Hammond, presenter of the BBC’s hugely popular show Top Gear, had travelled to America in the summer of 2007 to make what became the last documentary on a man he clearly idolised. ‘He was
a legend,’ Hammond said. ‘And that’s just a fact. He was my hero as a kid and still is today.’ Hammond didn’t envisage Knievel resting with the angels on fluffy clouds in the traditional manner however. After learning of his death he said, ‘Good luck, Evel. Don’t rest in peace though; wheelie through those pearly gates on a star-spangled Harley, grab a beer and tell St Peter he’s a pussy. Bless you.’

  Other tributes came from actor Matthew McConaughey, 2006 MotoGP world champion Nicky Hayden, former world heavy-weight boxing champion Joe Frazier, and, in particular, from proponents of almost every discipline of the Xtreme sports community who had taken Knievel to their hearts as the granddaddy of the lifestyle they all enjoyed.

  One man who did not appear to be saddened by the news was former aide and arch enemy, Sheldon Saltman. The day after Knievel passed away, Saltman announced he would still be coming after the Knievel estate for the damages owed after Knievel broke his arm with a baseball bat following the publication of his book Evel Knievel on Tour. Now 76 years old, Saltman also argued that, if interest was added to the original $12.75 million in damages he was awarded but never received, he is now owed more than $100 million. ‘We are going hot and heavy after his estate,’ Saltman told The Associated Press after Knievel died. ‘What he tried to do to me and how it hurt my family, I’m owed that.’

  While Knievel boasted that he’d made over $10 million in the last few years of his life, it seems unlikely that his estate is worth anything like the $100 million Saltman is claiming. Knievel had once said that he’d ‘rather die’ than pay Saltman a single dollar in damages and, in the end, that’s just what he did. How his estate will deal with the claim, only time will tell.