 Evel
Knievel
Evel Knievel always insisted reports suggesting every bone in his
body had been broken during his career were an exaggeration. But, in
the 20 years that his motorcycle stunts thrilled crowds across the US,
he certainly damaged most of them.
Born in the town of Butte, Montana on 17 October 1938, Robert Craig
Knievel Jnr was brought up by his grandparents after his parents
divorced. At the age of eight he attended a motor cycle stunt show,
which sowed the seeds for his future career.
He dropped out of school and went to work in the local copper
mines, virtually the only source of employment in the area. He was
fired after he demolished some local power lines he had been using
while trying to perform a stunt in an earthmoving machine.
With time on his hands, the young Robert frequently found himself
on the wrong side of the law, and after his army service, Knievel tried a number of ways of working off
his excess energy. He had become a successful pole vaulter while in
the military and, when he left, he took up minor league ice hockey.
However he was never quite good enough to make a professional player.
He joined a motocross team but, as a sign of things to come, he
crashed and broke a collarbone in 1962.
 Following
a spell as an insurance salesman Knievel started conducting motorcycle
stunt displays. His first ever performance, for which he sold all the
tickets himself, saw him jump a motorcycle over a series of cages
containing rattlesnakes and mountain lions.
Knievel soon discovered that to pull in the crowds he needed more
performers and, with the aid of a local sponsor, he set up a team. The
sponsor wanted him to adopt the name Evil Knievel, but accepted
Robert's suggestions that the spelling should be Evel, as he did not
want to be mistaken for a Hell's Angel gang member.
The new stunt team
performed in a series of shows in California, each more successful
than the last. Knievel discovered that his increasingly high profile brought him
all the things he really wanted: the money, the girls and, above all
the fame. It was the craving for the latter that drove him to attempt
even more dangerous stunts. Now, as a solo act, he was jumping over
rows of cars, adding more vehicles each time to persuade the crowds to
return. A series of accidents resulted in long hospital stays, and
even more publicity.
In 1968 he attempted a massive jump over a series of fountains
outside Caesars Palace in Las Vegas. Unable to persuade TV companies
to cover the stunt he hired his own cameraman to record the event. The
resulting crash put him in a coma for 29 days and elicited massive
bids for the film from the now-eager media.
The
staunchly right-wing Knievel became one of the most unlikely heroes of
the 1970s, idolized both by the denizens of America's myriad trailer
parks, and by hyperactive young boys who tried to jump trash cans and
other obstacles with their bicycles, in emulation of the man.
After authorities vetoed his plan to leap across the Grand Canyon
he set up an attempt on the narrower Snake River Canyon in Idaho.
Strapped into a rocket-powered bike Knievel plunged into the river
below after a parachute opened prematurely. This time he escaped with
minor injuries.
British fans also got their chance to see Knievel in action in 1975
when he attempted to jump over 13 buses at Wembley Stadium. But the
rear wheel clipped the last bus in the row and he somersaulted onto
the ramp with the bike crashing down on top of him. A concussed
Knievel, nursing more broken bones, announced his retirement over the
stadium's PA system.
 Despite
this he was back five months later, this time successfully clearing 14
buses in Ohio and setting a new world record. It was his last major
appearance. Even in retirement he could not keep out of the spotlight.
The publication of a book written by his former publicist Sheldon
Saltman, which painted a less than rosy picture of his family life,
angered Knievel. Despite having both arms in plaster he attacked
Saltman with a baseball bat. He was jailed for six months.
By now his health was declining, a result of the battering his body
had received over the years and his fondness for the bottle. He
contracted hepatitis, probably as a result of the many operations he
had undergone, and in 1999 he had a liver transplant.
His fondness for flamboyant white leathers earned him the title
"Elvis on a motorbike" and many saw him as one of the last great
heroes. As the working class boy who gave up crime and made it big, he
epitomized the mid-20th Century American dream.
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