by Ric Flair
My dad grew up in a suburb of Minneapolis, Minnesota, called Edina. He moved to Charlotte in 1974 and quickly became a local celebrity. Something people may not know is that, starting in the early ’90s, he became a well-known member of the Charlotte business community. He owned Gold’s Gyms.
What he took pride in, and what the Nature Boy may not have wanted people to know, is that from day one, he was a great dad.5 He did an excellent job of following Grandmommy’s recipe for pana cakes and even bought a waffle iron to make waffles with the batter. He’d take us to school and pick us up, go on backyard adventures with us, bring us to Sports Authority every week to buy us new athletic equipment, play H-O-R-S-E with us in the driveway, and take us to restaurants for family dinners.
Sushi night at Nakato was a major event. We’d all sit at the sushi bar for hours while amazing sushi rolls and sashimi were passed around on big wooden boats. Megan, David, and I used to laugh when Reider would say, “I like the boats. You like the boats.” We’d get takeout too. I can still taste the Snow White Chicken from Chia Best as those tall brown paper bags, stuffed into plastic ones, covered our kitchen counter.
When I think back, I realize that people recognized my dad everywhere he went. They were always very respectful of his time with his family. Rarely did anyone come up to us, but anyone who asked for an autograph or a picture with him was always very nice—and because we were his kids, people were kind to us everywhere we went. We had no idea that our dad was a celebrity. He would drive up to a storefront to stop in quickly and leave the car running. Sometimes people would say, “WOOOOO!” in passing. We just thought people were being friendly, especially since we were regulars at so many places. Except in one bizarre instance.
After a family night out, we came home and found that our garage had been broken into and vandalized. A wrestling fan, who eventually became a family stalker, had embarked on what would become years of psychotic behavior directed at my father and our family. This person spray-painted obscenities on my dad’s Mercedes and smeared paint all over the garage’s interior walls. The stalker also called our house and pretended to be other people. We never gave information out over the phone unless we knew the person calling. One night, the stalker called and told my parents that voodoo dolls were made and needles were being put in them to curse my parents’ lives.
Whether it was a major threat to us or something as simple as a bicycle accident, my father was very protective of us and always had a solution. One morning, Reider and I were on our bikes, and I fell over the top of the handlebars. When I got up off the ground, my four front teeth were on the ground, and my mouth filled with blood. I left my bike and ran into the house as fast as I could. My mom and grandmommy couldn’t tell what happened. My mom called my dad on the phone, and I was crying, screaming, asking him to come home. He came home that day. We found two of the teeth that the dentist could put back. A rod was placed over my front teeth so the roots could grow back. I felt like my nickname was going to be “Snaggletooth” or “Bucktooth.”
After that ordeal, my dad proclaimed, “Let’s get them go-carts with helmets!”
We grew up with Dad’s work friends as fixtures in our house. Out of all the wonderful people that were part of our life, there’s one name, one voice, one face that will forever be a special part of our family—Uncle Arn.
Arn Anderson rose to prominence as a member of the famous Anderson wrestling “family,” my dad’s TV “cousins.” Uncle Arn was a founder of the famous Four Horsemen and gave the group its iconic name. He had a TV persona so intimidating that his nickname was “the Enforcer.” Away from the ring, Uncle Arn was the kindest, sincerest person you could ever meet. He and my dad were like brothers. Our families spent holidays and vacations together, and Reider and I were close with his son Barrett. When I think of my childhood, I realize a huge part of it included Uncle Arn and my dad sitting on our deck, talking, and enjoying a few beers.6
Other stars from WCW we frequently saw included Bobby Eaton, who rose to fame as part of the Midnight Express tag team; referees Tommy Young and Pee Wee Anderson; stars like Terry Taylor, Kevin Sullivan, and his wife, Nancy, who was Woman on TV; and of course, Dusty Rhodes, whose son Cody was in my class at St. Stephen’s. Most fans didn’t know, and I learned later, that dating back to the ’80s, Dusty was an executive and was as substantial an influence behind the camera as he was in front of it.
For a few years, we took trips to Lake Norman to visit Ricky Steamboat and his family. Reider and I were friends with his son, Richie, who I’d meet again in FCW, but we’ll talk about that later.
When I was five years old, I studied jazz, tap, and ballet at Fancy Feet Dance Academy. The recitals were major events held at Ovens Auditorium in Charlotte. I had three outfits and was a lead for three dance numbers. Grandparents from both sides attended my recitals. There was an excitement all year to see which costumes we’d be wearing and what dance numbers we’d perform. This was also the one time of year that I was allowed to have lipstick, blush, and mascara on. My mom loved styling my hair and applying makeup for my recitals, and I loved wearing her red lipstick. After the final number, my parents greeted me with an enormous bouquet of flowers. Dance was a lot of fun, and though I didn’t realize it at the time, it built a strong foundation for the life that was to come.
When I entered first grade, I began competing in gymnastics. From my first practice at International Gymnastics, it was intense. Practices were eighteen hours a week after school: Monday, Wednesday, Thursday, and Friday from 4:30 p.m. to 9:00 p.m. On Saturday, I trained from 9:00 a.m. to 1:00 p.m. It was here, under Coach Suzie Sanocki, that I had principles from home reinforced: work hard, prove yourself, and earn people’s respect. We traveled all over the southeastern United States to compete in gymnastics events. Coach Suzie was very strict, emphasized discipline, and motivated us to be our best not only as gymnasts but as people too. She also treated her gymnasts like they were her own children.
The holiday season was the most exciting time of year in the Fliehr house: days off from school, family and friends coming to our house, including my dad’s parents, Grandma and Grandpa, and the best part, visits with my older siblings, Megan and David.
From my earliest memories, Megan and David have been a huge part of my life. They are my dad’s children from his first marriage to Leslie. Megan and David lived in Minnesota and came to Charlotte for holidays, summers, and family vacations.
Megan is the oldest of the Fliehr kids and the most intelligent. She was a standout basketball player, has a great sense of humor, and is the only one of us who never sought a life in the squared circle. As the oldest Fliehr child, she’s had to be the toughest emotionally. Megan bottle-fed me as a baby and is someone I’ve idolized my entire life. Megan’s been there for me every step of the way.
David is one of the kindest people I know. He is so genuine with his love and feelings for those who are close to him. Growing up, he was an all-star on the baseball diamond. To this day, David is the perfect big brother, providing a balance of protection, counsel, and lighthearted pranks. I know how much he loves me.
The fact that Megan and David lived in Minnesota never affected our relationship. The four of us were always close; we all shared the same sense of humor and could feel each other’s pain. If they weren’t in Charlotte, we’d talk on the phone. It felt special knowing that I had an older sister and brother I could count on. They were close with my mom and even called Grandmommy by that name. To this day, Megan and David are like parents, older siblings, and best friends. They’ve been an incredible influence on my life and are two of the greatest people I know.
Each of us had a nickname. In fact, it was rare that we used our real names when speaking to one another. Megan was “Meegs,” David was “Big Dave,” I was “Winky,” and Reid was “Reider.” Proving to be the quintessential younger brother, Reider sometimes called me “Stinky Winky,” to which I’d reply, “Reider, Reider, Pumpkin Eater.”
Every year on the Saturday of Thanksgiving weekend, we decorated our house for Christmas. I remember running around in a frenzy to see how I could help my mom. Even writing about it now, I have visions in my mind of Reider and me working together to take lights and tinsel out of huge boxes as my mom unearthed family ornaments from layers of Bubble Wrap. We had the same ornaments, placed in the same part of the tree. My grandma created handmade stockings with our names on them. My mom dressed our mantel with them, and they rested underneath a mural my mom had painted of her, Reider, and me. We still use those stockings today.
Another fun part of decorating our house for Christmas included the sights and sounds that ushered in the spirit of the season. I remember all of us watching Home Alone and my parents assuring Reider and me not to get our hopes up, that they would never forget us before leaving on a vacation—ever. Two songs always take me back to the times we were together in our living room: Bing Crosby’s “Silent Night,” because it was my grandmommy’s favorite Christmas song, and “The Chipmunk Song (Christmas Don’t Be Late)” from Alvin and the Chipmunks. Reider and I loved yelling, “Alvin!”
On Christmas morning, my parents ran with us down the stairs to see what Santa had brought. Even when the gifts from Santa’s sleigh were in sight, it didn’t seem real. The entire living room floor was covered with presents—like a winter wonderland—and the flow of gifts extended into other rooms. I always asked myself, How are we going to open all of these? But we had to because before we knew it, guests would be arriving, and there would be more presents. Santa always left something for us at their house too.
My mom hosted Christmas dinner every year. Once we finished taking family photos around the tree, dinner was served. Shrimp cocktail was the appetizer, followed by filet mignon and baked potatoes. For many years, Uncle Arn’s family celebrated with us, and our families exchanged gifts under our tree. One year, NFL great Kevin Green joined the festivities. You never knew who was going to be a guest at our home, and we loved that, especially during holidays.
Another wonderful memory from the season is my dad’s Gold’s Gym holiday party, which was held at the South Park Suites Hotel in Charlotte. The men dressed in three-piece suits, and the women wore flowing evening gowns. There was a live band, ice sculptures, and more food and drink choices than a royal banquet. Once the band Cherry Bomb started to play and the dance floor overflowed with people, that’s when Reider and I went to bed. There was no sneaking back into the party.
I was so excited when Megan came to this. We had a slumber party in her hotel room and shared the bed. She was never annoyed that I wanted to be with her and that she couldn’t spend all her time with her boyfriend.
Many guests stayed at the hotel, and our family always reserved a block of suites. One year, my dad came up to the room, gently woke Reider and me, and whispered, “Guys, wake up, wake up. There’s someone I’d like you to meet.” We went out to the living room, and my dad said, “Michael, these are my children Ashley and Reid.” This very tall, well-dressed man crouched down, shook our hands, and spoke to us for a couple of minutes. He wished us a merry Christmas and shook our hands again, and then Grandmommy took us back to bed.
The next morning at breakfast, I asked my dad who that nice man was. He said, “Ashley, that was one of the greatest basketball players of all time. That was Michael Jordan.”
I said, “Oh, okay.”
Reider said, “He was nice,” and we went back to eating our omelets. South Park Suites had great omelets.
Something similar happened in Detroit. It was Halloween Havoc ’94, and my dad was facing Hulk Hogan for the WCW Championship in a steel cage match. Mr. T was the special guest referee, and Muhammad Ali was scheduled to present the winner with the WCW Championship. Backstage, Mr. T played with us, and Muhammad Ali did a magic trick. We all laughed together. When they left, we took our seats in the arena. We had no idea that these men, especially Muhammad Ali, were cultural and athletic icons. Reider and I just thought they were my dad’s friends and maybe they’d come to our house like everyone else. That night I also met someone he respected greatly, former AWA World Champion and on-air WCW commissioner Nick Bockwinkel.
There were times when our family appeared on television in segments with my dad. The first time I remember being on television as a family was for Starrcade ’93. Starrcade was created by Dusty Rhodes in the early ’80s and was WCW’s largest annual pay-per-view event. In its early days, Starrcade was a precursor to WrestleMania and an event that was synonymous with my dad for many years.
In 1993, after a brief time with WWE, my dad returned to WCW. On television that December, he was facing a monster named Vader for the WCW World Heavyweight Championship. Vader weighed over four hundred pounds and could fly off the top rope. It was the tenth anniversary of Starrcade, and if my dad conquered this gruesome giant, he would be crowned champion. If he lost, he would have to retire from wrestling. What a way to spend a Christmas!
To add drama to the match, earlier that night, a camera crew came to our house and filmed my dad saying goodbye to our family. To provide that added sense of authenticity, legendary TV announcer and WCW commentator “Mean” Gene Okerlund was there. They both stepped into a stretch limousine and filmed an interview segment to build suspense for the match.
After what many consider to be one of his most spirited performances, my father pinned the Mastodon, Vader, in front of the hometown Charlotte crowd and became the World Heavyweight Champion for the eleventh time.7 After the match, we were all in the locker room as part of a segment with “Mean” Gene. During our interview, Ricky Steamboat and Sting came in to congratulate my dad. No one knew this at the time, but I had a huge crush on Sting. He was my boyfriend—well, at least I thought so.
In front of the cameras, Gene and my dad had interviews that went from being funny and energetic to intense and emotional. At times, years later, they ended with my dad throwing down his suit jacket and performing an elbow drop on it in the middle of the ring. Away from the bright lights and cameras, they have always been close friends.
* * *
Whether it was December or April, Charlotte has always had beautiful weather. While we had four seasons, Megan and David liked to remind me that the winters in Minnesota were a bit different.
I remember pulling up to our house and seeing the sun shining on the tree branches that were dancing in the wind … the flowers in front of the house that led to the front door resembled something from The Wizard of Oz. Even as a child, spring’s beautiful color palette spoke to me. There was one day in all its splendor that meant spring’s brighter days were just ahead—Easter Sunday.
Each year, my parents hosted Easter dinner. But for the kids, it was all about the Fliehr Easter egg hunt. During the week before Easter, my parents secretly hid eggs all over our backyard. My dad took things to another level and put hundred-dollar bills into the eggs. One Easter, I planned to hop into my Barbie Power Wheels and comb the grounds looking for those eggs, but I didn’t think that was fair to the other kids.
Regardless of the calendar, it was considered summer in the Fliehr house when my parents opened the pool. Reider and I spent hours throwing whatever we could find in the deep end to see who could grab it and make it back to the top first. Our diving contests were epic battles worthy of being included on Olympic broadcasts—or so we thought.
From slumber parties in her room with Reider and me to going to K&W Cafeteria for dinner and creating excursions that were more thrilling than anything Doc Brown and Marty McFly could’ve experienced in the DeLorean, another one of my mom’s specialties was planning extraordinary adventures for us.
Since my dad traveled so much for work, we got to travel as a family in the summer—the best! During those days, WCW taped their TV shows at Disney-MGM Studios, which meant one of our most amazing trips each year was to the most magical place on earth—Disney World.
My parents always rented a Cadillac, and when we’d drive under the awning that sa
id, “Welcome to Disney World,” it was as though we were transported to a land where anything was possible. We’d stay in suites at the Yacht Club Resort and spend all day swimming in the sand-bottom pool and going down the waterslide until it was time to visit the parks.
Exploring the parks with my dad was always an experience. Our family had our own tour guide. One of our first stops was the Indiana Jones Epic Stunt Spectacular! Reider waited all year so he could sit front row and dress up like Indy: the hat, the shirt, binoculars, and a rubber snake around his neck. My parents got me a collector’s Mickey Mouse watch with a leather band. At different points of our tour, they’d take turns asking me what time it was. We’d go on every ride as many times as we wanted. We’d always go on the Space Mountain ride two times in a row, though I didn’t find out until I was older what my dad’s references to Space Mountain meant. To say it was different is a bit of an understatement.
Going to dinner as a family was even more fun when we were on vacation, especially at Disney World. We had a view of the entire Disney skyline from our table at the Top of the World restaurant and incredible sushi dinners at the Grand Floridian Resort. We couldn’t wait to stand under the stars together for the Illuminations fireworks show at Epcot.
Disney was only the beginning of our adventures.
I remember fishing on Mexico City Beach with my dad and Reider and making bonfires at night, building sand castles on the shores of Daytona Beach with Uncle Arn’s family, snorkeling with Kevin Sullivan, and getting my hair beaded in St. Martin’s with Anna Claire and Abby Murnick, whom Reider and I grew up with. Elliot Murnick was a TV announcer for Mid-Atlantic Championship Wrestling in the ’70s and early ’80s, a promoter, and a member of WCW’s events department in the ’90s. My parents were close to Elliot and his wife, Anne.