March 1, 1993 Observer Newsletter: DEATH OF KERRY VON ERICH ISSUESunday, 28 February 1993 17:37Wrestling Observer Newsletter"Somewhere along the way, a cute marketing concept decayed into a macabre body count." -- Irvin Muchnick, Penthouse Magazine, in a 1988 article "Born Again Bashing" about the Von Erich family"I was shocked that Kerry killed himself. But I wasn't shocked at all that he died." -- Terry Simms, pro wrestler and one of Kerry's closest friendsFantasy vs. reality. For most people in the real world, for the most part, they know the difference. In pro wrestling, among both its performers and its fans, sometimes the line gets a little blurred. Often that's dismissed as simply harmless. But sometimes when the line is blurred for long enough, or the difference is no longer perceptible, or even worse, when the fantasy becomes the reality, it creates a situation of potential danger. The danger is that the day may come when the bubble is burst and the fantasy is over and one isn't equipped to deal with the reality.The bubble must have come close to bursting several times over the past decade for Kerry Gene Adkisson, who had lived in many ways the ultimate fantasy life up until he was in his mid-20s. The reality after that period was the harshest imaginable. Three brothers died. His other brother suffered a near death experience. One of his brothers' children died at birth. He was involved in a motorcycle accident that left him crippled. The company that was his by birthright went out of business, ending with him having little money left to his name. The superstardom that was seemingly his not only by birthright but through ability and charisma as well, slowly slipped away. Because he was broke, he hooked up with the biggest wrestling company in the world, and for a time, he was getting to relive his past fame. But in doing so, they originally planned to take away his beloved family name. While he kept his name, the legendary status of it and favored treatment the name Von Erich meant were no longer the case. Slowly the reality that he wasn't what he once was moved him from superstar to preliminary status. The recreational drug problems continued. Soon, the drugs that created his beloved physique were banned as well, causing his beloved muscles to shrink to ungodlike normality. Eventually, he lost that job as well, and the money that went with it, and was only working once or twice a week, earning the kind of money that he often blew nightly during his years of living the ultimate fantasy, on good times. He was broke, and was in trouble with the IRS to the point that he was auctioning off his wrestling memorabilia from his famous title win over Ric Flair at wrestling conventions. His parents, the cornerstone behind the so-called perfect family unit, split up. His own marriage had its ups and downs. Yet in his own way, he was able to somehow shield himself, at least to a point, from reality by drawing upon the fantasy.The fantasy was that he was Kerry Von Erich, the Modern Day Warrior. He was one of the great athletes in the world. He had the perfect physique. He was nearly unbeatable at wrestling, and in fact, was the uncrowned World champion. He was the second-youngest man ever to hold the most famous and prestigious wrestling belt in the world and he won it from the greatest wrestler of our time in the most emotional setting and in front of one of the biggest crowds and in one of the most famous matches the wrestling world had ever seen. He was loaded with charisma. He'd have gone to the Olympics in the discus if Carter hadn't called for the boycott or if some heel wouldn't have stomped on his shoulder just before the try-outs that in reality he was never going to attend in the first place. He was rich. He had the hottest car. He could literally do no wrong, because even if he did, since he was a Von Erich, it would always be taken care of. Whatever he wanted, someone would take care of for him because he was Kerry Von Erich, son of the greatest wrestler the world had ever seen and son of one of the wealthiest and most influential men in the community. He was the object of desire for every female in the state of Texas, and plenty in other states as well. Everyone else wanted to be his friend. Anywhere he went he was mobbed by autograph seekers. Every night he stepped into the ring, the cheers were as loud for him as nearly anyone in the history of a business that was his. He was born to be a demigod. Hell, he was a demigod, at least he was every night when he stepped into the ring in the minds of most of the people in the building and to enough hangers-on out of the ring that he was able to never have to leave the fantasy. He was born into the perfect Christian family, inherited the greatest athletic genes, and through his never-ending search for athletic perfection, achieved dizzying heights of fame. He and his brothers were going to rule the wrestling world.On Wednesday, February 17, the fantasy world of Kerry Von Erich was about to end. He was indicted that morning on cocaine possession charges stemming from a January 13 arrest. He was already serving ten years probation for forging drug prescriptions during a time about one year earlier when he was supposed to be attending rehab. While it was not a guarantee, the odds were very good that his probation would be revoked and he would be sent to prison. It appears Kerry at least believed that was going to be his future. In prison, there would be no evenings where hundreds of women would screech every time he took off his ring jacket. No women would send him roses and fantasize or realize time with him. There were no world title matches to be won. No ugly heels were going to sell big when he said "discus." There was almost no family left. The drugs that made him a modern-day Warrior, the steroids, weren't going to be available. The drugs he took, just because they were available and plentiful, and the ones he took to numb both the physical and mental pain, were going to be gone. The drugs he took to escape from the reality were also going to be history. He could no longer lie and con, traits that had been instilled in him at a young age because the marks would always believe a Von Erich because they fought the fans' fantasy enemies, nor have everyone that surrounded him believe he was something that he wasn't. Perhaps the worst thing of all was he'd have to come to grips with the fact that the fantasy that was his professional life and became much of his personal life wasn't reality. He'd have to face what the reality really was. The night of his death, a long-time family friend theorized that if Kerry hadn't have taken his life that afternoon, he would have almost certainly done so in his first week in prison.When he learned Thursday morning of his indictment, he apparently set out to kill himself. But those who knew him well, or even casually, seem to believe this wasn't a spontaneous decision.Many of his friends recalled in the past few days Kerry would come over, for seemingly no reason, hug them, say "I love you," and then leave. Some were confused by his actions initially. In hindsight, they realized he had been saying his good-byes. It may have seemed unusual, but unusual in Kerry's case wasn't unusual. Terry Funk, who saw Von Erich a few weeks earlier in Philadelphia, remembered him coming up to him and reminiscing about when he and his brothers feuded with Terry and his brother in Amarillo during the early days of his career, talking about it being some of the happiest moments of his life. On January 27, one week before is 33rd birthday, he and his probation office, Gary Hunter, had their routine meeting and he talked of suicide."He talked about it then," Hunter said in an article in the Dallas Morning-News. "He said he missed his brothers and said he just didn't feel like going on." Hunter said Kerry rejected his advice to seek counseling for his suicidal feelings and his continuing drug addictions."In his own way, he came to say good-bye to me on Monday," remembered Terry Simms, a Dallas wrestler who was one of his best friends. "He came into the (health) club, hugged me and said, `I miss you when you're not around.' It bothered me for a couple of days because it was really strange. His hair wasn't combed. He hadn't shaved. He looked terrible. I'm sure that everyone he came in contact with the last two weeks thought the same thing."He didn't want to go to prison. He had told people that if he got indicted, he'd kill himself."Is prison really that bad? So he may have had to spend a year in prison. It may have been the best thing that ever happened to him. He had two daughters that he loved deeply. Anyone who was ever around him could tell that in a second."His father said Kerry had frequently mentioned taking his own life. His wife Cathy, whom he had an on-again, off-again relationship with over the years, hid all the guns from the house. He said the same strange goodbyes to the woman and her mother whom he had been living with the past few weeks, and headed to his father's ranch.As he had done with everyone else he felt close to, when he arrived at 1:30 p.m., he hugged his dad and told him he loved him, borrowed the .44-calibre Magnum handgun he had given his father for Christmas in 1991 and borrowed his father's jeep telling him that he needed to find a quiet spot to do some thinking.About 45 minutes later, his father, who in his own fantasy life was the legendary Fritz Von Erich, got worried. Jack Adkisson had built a company largely to package and hype his alter ego as the greatest wrestler of all-time and his children as the prodigal sons. He was the father of the ultimate fantasy family of athletes, but in reality he had already lost four of his six sons, none of whom saw their 26th birthday. He knew Kerry had to pick up his two daughters, nine-year-old Holly and six-year-old Lacy, from school. He searched on his ranch and found that the jeep was empty. Then found the body partially hidden from the thicket. Apparently Kerry had shot himself in the heart.The death marks the end of one of the most bizarre family stories any of us will ever know. The story is far beyond the significance of simply the pro wrestling world that the family was once among the most powerful and recognizable members of. The Von Erich dynasty, what at one time seemed to have been a brilliant marketing plan by Jack Adkisson dating back to the late 60s, saw the seeds bloom on Christmas night of 1982, and for the next 16 months he owned the hottest and most innovative wrestling company in the world. The cornerstones were his three young, athletic and at the time almost interchangeable sons. The youngest of the three, Kerry, was rivalled by only Hulk Hogan in Minneapolis and Jimmy Snuka in New York as the most popular wrestler in the country. Certainly, in terms of attracting new fans and a young audience, "The Modern Day Warrior" stood as almost a sure-bet to become the biggest wrestling star in the world before too many more years were finished. While other promotions quickly caught up and surpassed Jack Adkisson's company, the marketing plan was still in tact for a successful regional business. The Von Erichs were still the kings of North Texas. The first Wrestlemania, which rocked the nation, died in Dallas. The Saturday Night Main Events of the WWF, at the time a ratings success story around the country, was destroyed head-to-head by Adkisson's local television show on KTVT. The life didn't immediately get squeezed away from the territory, but instead lives themselves started ending, one after another, a body count that engulfed the wrestling world with morbid fascination. The dynasty pretty well ended in April of 1987, with the death of Jack's fifth son, Michael, and third to die, at the age of 23, a suicide caused by overdosing on Placidyl. Michael had been involved with frequent scrapes with the law during the last year of his life, and his death had been eerily predicted just two weeks before it happened by Jack's booker, Frank "Bruiser Brody" Goodish. Goodish was the only wrestler in the glory era who rivalled the sons' popularity in Texas and in a bizarre turn of fate, he would be murdered just over one year later in a Puerto Rican dressing room.Less than one month after Mike's death, the fourth annual David Von Erich Memorial Parade of Champions took place at Texas Stadium. Only it was changed to the David and Mike Von Erich Memorial show. Even the Dallas fans, who had a national reputation for being the most blindly loyal fans to the family of any fans in the world, suddenly woke up. Three years earlier, when David's death was memorialized at Texas Stadium and drew what was at the time the second-largest gate in pro wrestling history (32,123 fans live paying $402,000 trailing only the Bruno Sammartino vs. Larry Zbyszko 1980 match at Shea Stadium), many of Jack's former closest friends and fellow compadres in the admittedly seedy business, were repulsed at the attempt to make money capitalizing on his sons' death."When I was down there (late 70s), I thought Jack was as great a man as I'd ever known," said Denver sportscaster Steve Harmes, who worked for a Dallas television station at the time and eventually became a referee, play-by-play announcer and close personal friend of Jack Adkisson while his sons were first breaking in. "I was really disillusioned when they had the Memorial after David died. After that I mainly followed them in the Observer. They lost touch with reality. The marks who would go to the shows twice a week got fed up when he faked the heart attack and with all the Memorial shows. When I'd go down there on vacation and talk to the fans, that's what I kept hearing."But the Dallas area fans themselves largely didn't notice the exploitation at the first David Von Erich Memorial Bash on May 6, 1984. Even with the family photos and David memorabilia being sold at inflated prices, including a rushed out 45 record called "Heaven Needed a Champion" being sung at the show and sold at the dozens of merchandise tables, a record cut by one of Jack's gospel singing friends and released literally days after David's death, exploitation was not on most wrestling fans' mind. After all, in their own world of fantasy, their long-awaited dream that had been teased for about two years for most, and for nearly two decades for the older fans that followed Fritz' career, a Von Erich finally winning the NWA world heavyweight title, was about to take place. Just a few miles down the road, the NBA Mavericks were in a do-or-die playoff game with the legendary Lakers of Kareem and Magic fame in a game that shocked the local sports community because it didn't sellout. Even during its heyday, the local community didn't understand the emotion and impact to so many that the world title and the Von Erichs meant, as more than twice as many fans attended the wrestling show.Kerry, who had teased fans for more than four years with his incredible near-misses in world title matches against both Harley Race and Ric Flair, had promised his fans he'd win the title in memory of his recently deceased brother. While Flair and Kerry rushed through a 13:00 match which was nowhere near the level the two usually had, it ended up as probably the most famous match either would ever be involved in. Kerry won the belt and was mobbed by the Texas babyface wrestlers and received one of the most emotional pops in history. At the age of 24, he was the second youngest man ever to hold the world heavyweight wrestling title (Lou Thesz in 1937, at the age of 21, being the youngest). As tears filled the eyes of the fans while Kerry walked down the aisle, Jack (who wrestled his final match ever that afternoon as the legendary Fritz Von Erich) and Doris met him halfway. Wrestling has never duplicated a scene like that, and may never again. For that one moment, Jack's fantasy world had taken such a hold that it actually became not only his family's and his loyal audience's reality, but reality for much of North Texas. Little did any of the 32,123 fans, wrestlers, Kerry or Jack himself realize that single moment, at which point they were on top of the world and their future under the 100 degree Texas sun seemingly would burn bright forever as the premiere family and promotion in the world, that this was actually the beginning of the end.As the other end of the business deal that resulted in that crowning moment of his wrestling career, Kerry dropped the title back to Flair on May 24 in Yokosuka, Japan.Facing the reality that the moment when Kerry, Jack and Doris embraced before 32,123 cheering and teary-eyed fans was their apex came in the same spot, some three years later. Jack's World Class Championship Wrestling was overtaken by the Titan Sports and Jim Crockett Promotions. The compassion from the community at large when Mike nearly died from Toxic Shock syndrome over Labor Day weekend of 1985 turned into the general public's realization that something very serious was wrong when he was rushed into a heavily hyped public appearance several weeks later at the Cotton Bowl to wave and thank the fans during a major outdoor spectacular that drew 25,000 fans. The main event was a double hair vs. hair match in which Kevin & Kerry beat Gino Hernandez & Chris Adams. As Gino tried to escape from his haircut, the youngest brother, Chris, then 15, but only about 5-foot-3, participated in his first major angle to set the stage for his future stardom by tackling Gino at ringside. Gino was dragged back into the ring and shaved bald. Barely three months later Gino Hernandez, 28, the company's top heel, was dead of a cocaine overdose.Kerry's crippling injuries in the motorcycle accident preceded Mike's suicide, which made the tragedies into something only the densest marks couldn't see had turned into a pattern. While the loyal live-and-die with the Von Erichs fans remained, their numbers dwindled. The thousands of Texas teenagers who flocked to Reunion Arena for the first time in 1982 and nearly rioted when Kerry was screwed out of the title, then cried their eyes out when the newspapers, unaware of the phenomenon, devoted just a few short paragraphs buried in the back of the sports section to the death of David (which only became a front-page story in the local media on the second day after his death, after the local media realized just how much of an affect a Von Erich death had on the community), largely gave up in the wake of the death of Mike. Only 5,900 fans came to Texas Stadium on May 3, 1987 to see the David and Mike Von Erich Memorial Parade of Champions. Eight days later, Kevin passed out and nearly died in a Fort Worth ring, only to be saved by CPR from wrestler Tommy Rogers. Another angle was created. His opponent when he collapsed, Brian Adias, who ironically was Kerry's real best friend from childhood but had recently turned heel, had developed a deadly Oriental tool punch that nearly killed his former best friend's older brother.About the time Mike first took ill, and with Kevin floating in-and-out of the business due to injuries and lack of interest, a phony Von Erich was created, the model-like Lance Von Erich, real name Kevin William Vaughn. Lance was said to have been the cousin of the boys and the son of Waldo Von Erich, a one-time big-name wrestler himself who was the fictitious brother of Fritz Von Erich. Lance ironically suffered from the Von Erich curse as soon as he adopted the name, with a series of strange illnesses, traced largely to his heavy use of steroids, interfering with his own wrestling career. After a dispute with his "uncle," Lance quit to work for an opposition group in Dallas, at which time a bitter and bombastic Fritz Von Erich, against all good judgement, went on the television show and said that Lance wasn't related to the family, that his real name was William Vaughn, and that he used the family in order to get a break in wrestling. Unbeknownst to Fritz, that outburst ended the family's credibility even more except to the dwindling never-say-die fans, some of whom still remained as late as this past week. Kevin Vaughn then fell in love while on a wrestling tour of South Africa, and has lived there ever since.On Christmas night of that year, with the territory in shambles, the booker during the company's glory days, Ken Lusk (known in wrestling as Ken Mantell), bought into the territory. The idea to turn things around was on Christmas night, several heels would attack Fritz Von Erich and beat him nearly to death. Fritz faked that he had suffered a heart attack and was rushed off to emergency. While Dallas fans celebrated their holiday season, on the wrestling broadcast they were told of yet another impending Von Erich tragedy, only in this case, not only were the causes lied about, but the entire story was a work. On television the next few days, the announcers told how Fritz is touch-and-go and may not make it through the night. Even local television stations and newspapers fell for the act at the beginning, but Jack's magic with the local media was such that the truth never came out publicly, just like the truth about David's death was still the worked version in all media reports this past week. Outside of wrestling, he was never criticized for the stunt. Later the media and the promotion amended the story to have been a blow from a cane caused temporary paralysis which was originally thought to have been a heart attack. Even Jack's closest friends in the wrestling business, none of whom were saints and all of whom specialized in stretching the truth and creating their own fantasy worlds for a buck, had long turned against this level of exploitation. It was too much to use the family's many tragedies that had moved the fans and attempting to create another near-death, as a means to get the territory off its back. Crowds did pick up as Kevin and Kerry sought to gain revenge on the perpetrators. That was the last time Fritz Von Erich set foot in World Class Wrestling rings (he worked in Kerry's corner once in 1991 on a WWF show, but that was long after the family's magical image was gone). The death of the Von Erich legacy, which occurred more than five years before its brightest star took his own life, was also the death of North Texas wrestling."I don't think there will ever be anything big here as far as the wrestling business is concerned," said Simms. "WWF and WCW can draw elsewhere but when they come here, they can't draw. The people here are saying `It's a screwed up world you're in and we know about it.'"The story of the Von Erichs really started in 1949. Jack Adkisson was a back-up offensive guard at Southern Methodist University and set a school record in the discus. But he lost his scholarship by violating team rules and getting married to the future Doris Adkisson. The two took off for Canada, where he played Canadian football with several future wrestling superstars including Gene Kiniski and Wilbur Snyder. In 1954, he learned wrestling from Stu Hart in Calgary, and he, Doris and son Jackie Jr., lived in a trailer park on the Hart property. A few years later, he created the persona of Nazi heel Fritz Von Erich, and with his large hands, he became the master of the deadly "Iron Claw," when post-World War II Nazi and Japanese heels were the rage. While Nazi heels came and went, the 6-3, 275 pound powerhouse with agility, charisma and a certain demonic sneer that exuded toughness and danger, became one of the country's biggest drawing cards. While working out of Buffalo in 1959, son Jackie, then six, touched a live wire while he was outside during a storm, was given a major jolt and was knocked unconscious. He fell into a puddle and drowned to death.Personal tragedies aside, Fritz Von Erich became a worldwide superstar in the 1960s. He held the AWA world title for a short period of time (he and Kerry remain to this day the only father-son combination to each have held a major world heavyweight title although in the NWA's lighter weight divisions the Guerrero and Dantes family also accomplished the same thing). One of the most famous faux paus ever in Japan was during a brutal main event match where Fritz was wrestling Giant Baba for the International title (which Fritz is one of the few men in history to hold), Baba went to blade himself to sell the Iron Claw, but instead of getting his forehead, he cut up Fritz' finger. Fritz' finger bled like crazy and the Japanese press created what is now a famous story of Fritz suffering from a hangnail during this now-legendary match. Due to real estate investments during a few Dallas-Fort Worth area building booms, he also became a millionaire. In the 1960s, he became a phenomenal drawing card in Texas for promoters Ed McLemore and Morris Siegel. In 1967, he pulled his big power play. Adkisson rallied all the North Texas wrestlers and pulled out the rug from under McLemore to start his own company. After winning a bitter promotional war, largely through the help of NWA President Sam Muchnick who sided with his good friend and top draw, Adkisson hired McLemore and, learning from Muchnick that it's best to make peace with your former enemies, kept McLemore's name out front as the supposed promoter. Siegel, who sided with McLemore, passed away of a heart attack shortly thereafter.Fritz Von Erich largely stopped touring at that point, mainly confining his ring activities to his own company, in which he quickly became (surprise, surprise) the top babyface. His promotion did consistently strong business by the early 70s matching Fritz against whatever heel he could make money with, from a Johnny Valentine to a Mongolian Stomper to a Professor Boris Malenko, and eventually runing them out of town. The annual climactic world title matches against Kiniski and later Dory Funk Jr., which he'd come within a hair of winning, before either being screwed or going to the time limit, were moved outdoors to Texas Stadium because no indoor arena in the market could hold the crowd. A 1973 match with Funk, a 60 minute draw in 100 degree heat, set the state attendance and gate record with 26,339 fans paying $96,000. The attendance record stood until Kerry won the title in honor of brother David 11 years later. The gate record was first broken in Flair and Kerry's famous Christmas 1982 match. A rematch one year later drew 23,000 fans. At the same time, he was channeling his sons into sports and himself and his family into religion.Official Von Erich mythology has it that Jack was deeply moved by a sermon in 1974, and shortly thereafter a divine voice guided him to open his Bible to Psalms 23. Not long after that, the same powerful force somehow made him pull his car over to the shoulder of a highway one day and ponder his sin, beginning the Von Erichs famous link with religion. A former friend of Jack's, and his many detractors who believed him to be less than sincere in his constant religious talk, will tell the story somewhat differently. Doris, who was deeply religious, had or was about to throw Jack out. Jack, who by this time had already began to conceptualize the company being built around his All-American family image, to save his family and his dream, became born-again.Just as the first media story, in Penthouse Magazine, which looked underneath the largely worked mythology that the local media had never examined, was about to be released, Ken Lusk, Jack's then-partner in the office, said to the Dallas Times-Herald that "anyone who says the Von Erichs aren't a Christian family, well, that's a crock. An outright lie.Being a Christian doesn't mean you are perfect, doesn't mean you haven't made mistakes in your life. There's another book that says, `Let he who is without sin cast the first stone.'"Perhaps since many influential in Texas traditionally protect their own, and nobody was more Texan than the Von Erichs, the sons of the ex-Nazi heel, even with five sons now dead, the local media has never examined this strange phenonemon as anything more than a series of tragic random coincidences to a family that somehow was jinxed. The truth is that these tragedies were patterned, frequent and predictable with some obvious and other not so obvious root causes. Ironically, when the kids one-time running mate in drugs and wrestling main events, Hernandez, passed away, his life story of drugs, drugs and more drugs, was an open book in the local media worthy of an award winning newspaper story. When it came to the sons of Jack Adkisson, different rules seemed to prevail.At about the same time his kids were the high school studs at small Lake Dallas High, Jack Adkisson was named the new NWA President, replacing Muchnick who decided to step down from power since he was in his late 60s. People remember Jack bringing Kevin, David and Kerry, whose ages ranged from 18 to 15 at the time, to the NWA conventions in Las Vegas, in which the various NWA promoters would alternately kiss-ass and back-stab their compadres, and telling the other NWA promoters, almost arrogantly, how his kids would all be future NWA world champions. At the time Kerry, then in 10th grade, was rumored to already be heavily into steroids. Whether it was simply parental obsession to create a string of super athletes, or he (and perhaps his brothers as well) fell into the steroids on their own, the three oldest were bonafide high school sports stars, facts that Jack made sure were constantly mentioned on his television shows, in his programs, in programs of other influential NWA promoters, and in wrestling magazines.David, named for Doris Adkisson's brother that passed away as a teenager from brain cancer, was 6-6, but thin as a rail when he entered the ring first, in the summer of 1977. He had received a basketball scholarship to North Texas State University in nearby Denton, but red-shirted as a freshman and quit school after one year to work for his father. Kevin, 6-2 with a somewhat slight build, but with tremendous muscularity, followed a few months later. He was the starting fullback at North Texas State as a freshman and had legitimate potential, but a series of concussions and knee injuries caused him to quit school and join brother David in the ring. Kerry, who was already taking on the dimensions of a bodybuilder in 10th grade, was a high school football star and, like his father, threw the discus. Kerry was both state and junior national champion as a senior in high school, setting a small high school state record that stood for more than a decade. He received a football and track scholarship to the University of Houston. But, like his brothers, he only lasted one year in college before pro wrestling came calling. He red-shirted in football, but starred in track, including winning at the discus in the Texas Relays.All three brothers had become national superstars through Adkisson's company, re-named World Class Championship Wrestling, getting national syndication in 1981 and 1982 through a state-of-the-art television production from the Dallas Sportatorium. The first slick wrestling program preceded TBS and WWF in fast-paced slickly-edited productions complete with hard rock entrance music which attracted a largely teenage audience, with a heavy percentage of girls, to see Jack's three heartthrob sons. By the time Michael made his pro debut on November 18, 1983, the promotion was the hottest in the land and his brothers were all local mega-celebrities and national wrestling superstars. The Von Erichs, along with Hogan, Flair and the Road Warriors, dominated the covers and the coverage in all the national wrestling magazines during that time period. Behind the scenes, within wrestling, the outside the ring bizarre stories of the Von Erichs, largely based around drug problems, were legion."I remember going with Gary Hart, Kerry, Kevin, Gino and David on road trips," recalled Harmes. "We'd go to the hotel. David, Kerry and Gino would load up on quaaludes and placidyls. They had a doctor who provided them with anything they wanted and as much as they wanted. I remember once being in Fritz' office when Gino called and needed 400 quaaludes and he got them that afternoon."Within wrestling, it was generally believed the father was in denial about his son's drug problems. Stories are legion that his lieutenants in the company would beg the father to open his eyes but he would never believe his sons would do such things. Even during the glory years of 1983 and 1984, Kevin, David and Kerry, who were in huge demand as local celebrities for public appearances, developed bad reputations among local merchants for either showing up incoherent, or not showing up at all. The company was making big money running two spot shows per night in area high schools, usually using local non-profit organizations as sponsors, which at one point consistently drew consistently large and phenomenally enthusiastic crowds to see the Von Erichs in the flesh. The idolatry was so out of control that banners like, "On the eighth day, God created the Von Erichs," at matches, were not the exception. Unfortunately that business started falling off as the sons frequently no-showed the cards and the sponsors, feeling burned, lost interest in World Class wrestling."Whenever anything came up about Kevin and Kerry from the Lake Dallas Police Department, Fritz always said it was the police's fault," Harmes recalled. "Once Kevin drove his car into a lake. The next day, he had a new car and it was like nothing had happened. But they were the model children around their dad's friends. They were the most polite and friendly kids you can imagine."In June of 1983, Kerry was arrested at DFW Airport coming back from his honeymoon with Cathy in Puerto Vallarta, Mexico. Customs agents found him with 18 unmarked tablets in his right front packet. He was hiding nearly 300 assorted downers like Percodan and Codeine pills in a plastic bag in the crotch of his pants, had ten grams of Marijuana and 6.5 grams of an undetermined blue and white powder. The incident made the newspapers, with Kerry going on television begging fans not to believe what you read in the newspapers. The most hardcore Von Erich marks dismissed the story, believing Kerry's insidious enemy, Freebird Michael Hayes, must have planted the drugs on him. Not so surprisingly, the evidence somehow disappeared from the police station and all charges were dropped.Adkisson's territory was only a moderate small-time promotion in the North Texas area, built around himself and his three soon-to-be famous sons in the early 80s. When, at age 53, he decided to hold his big retirement show at Texas Stadium in the spring of 1982, just 6,000 fans attended. Four months later at Reunion Arena came the first major sign that the seeds of his family marketing concept were going to pay big dividends when more than 10,000 fans came to see Kerry's two out of three fall double disqualification with Flair, after which Fritz labeled Kerry as the uncrowned world champion. Unlike at Texas Stadium a few months earlier, which drew a traditional wrestling crowd, this crowd was filled with high schoolers and younger. The younger kids, most of whom had never attended a live wrestling show before, clicked in by relating to Kerry, at the time just 22, in his chance to win the world heavyweight title for Texas. A rematch was scheduled for a few months later, but Kerry's knee went out and he needed minor surgery at the time Flair was booked into Fort Worth. Older brother David took his place and vowed to win the title for Texas. When Flair attacked the still on-crutches Kerry and began stomping on his recently operated knee, causing a near riot among the new fans who discovered this pseudo-sport, David lost his cool and got disqualified. On Christmas night, Jack Adkisson's slot machine came up cherries to the tune of state record gross of $105,000 for the Flair vs. Kerry cage match for the NWA title.The legendary match ended when Terry Gordy slammed the cage door on Kerry's head, a finish imitated many times over the next decade but never with the same results. The resulting Freebirds vs. Von Erichs marraige became one of the hottest feuds in pro wrestling history. It also made World Class the first American promotion that captured the quality and set the standard for the wrestling of the future.From that point forward, the Friday night cards at the Sportatorium became weekly sellouts. Spot show business picked up even more with the young roguish Freebirds as the natural foes. The three shows at Reunion Arena the next year all sold out at near $200,000, setting a state gate record each time out of the box, with several thousands turned away at each show. On Thanksgiving night, the loser leave town match with Kerry vs. Hayes not only sold out a few days in advance despite, but thousands of those turned away stayed out in the zero degree weather outside the arena watching through the glass to watch the television monitors to see what was going on inside.Because of the success, Adkisson's power increased within the alliance and his dream of having a son as world champion started being closer to reality. Of course, Adkisson wasn't going to be satisfied with that, as he wanted, at one point, everyone of his sons to get the belt. It appeared David, who wasn't as good an all-around athlete as Kevin or Kerry, but was the smartest, the most reliable, and the best worker, would be the first to get the chance. Apparently David, the one pushed as "being the most like Fritz," was promised the title in 1983 from Harley Race, but through maneuverings of Jim Crockett, Flair got the title for a second time that Thanksgiving night at the first Starrcade. The Flair-David match on Christmas night of 1983 was again sold out well in advance, despite a week-long ice storm. The predictable over-the-top-rope DQ save-the-title finish climaxed the company's most profitable year ever.The same week Flair got the title back that David was destined for, Michael made his pro debut. Immediately, a match was set up between Flair and Michael for Fort Worth in January, 1984. It was a 10 minute match, and if Flair won, David would never get a return match. If Mike won, or lasted 10:00, David would get a title match and he could pick the time, place and all stipulations. David went one step farther, saying if he couldn't beat Flair this time, he'd retire from wrestling. Mike, at 19 years old and all of 180 pounds, not only lasted the 10:00, but had Flair out with a sleeper when the bell expired in what had to be one of the most forgettable and regrettable matches of the latters' career. One week later David, who had won the United National title (one of three All Japan singles belts later unified into the current Triple Crown title) and was apparently set to dump the belt to Genichiro Tenryu, thereby setting Tenryu up as a No. 1 contender when David eventually returned as world champion, left for All Japan Pro Wrestling.David went to Ribera Steak House in Tokyo, a hangout for wrestlers, on his first night in Japan with Bill and the late Scott Irwin (who were working as The Super Destroyers at the time). He was drinking heavily. On February 10, he wasn't in the lobby for the bus taking them to the arena on the opening night of the tour. Ref Joe Higuchi along with Bruiser Brody and Jerry Morrow broke into his hotel room and found him dead on the floor. He was 25. Brody immediately flushed the drugs down the toilet. It was reported in Penthouse, that the drugs were Placidyls, the same drug his brother Michael would eventually overdose on as well.The mythology machine went to work immediately. To this day, the official press reports, that were still used in all newspaper stories about Kerry's death, reported the death from an inflamed intestine, technically known as enteritis. The enteritis story originally was released as occurring from a hard kick in a match in Japan, which was definitely a lie since David died the night before his first match of the tour. Over the ensuing years, the Von Erichs in different press interviews have changed the story many times about David's death, including calling it a stroke, a heart attack after a strenuous match in Japan, food poisoning from sushi and an injury suffered and ignored by David just before leaving for Japan in a match he and Kevin had against the Road Warriors in San Antonio. There was nothing even close to true about any of the above stories, since he of course hadn't had his first match on the tour, Ribera's doesn't serve sushi, and he and Kevin had never wrestled the Road Warriors. David's funeral, open to the public, drew 3,500 wrestling fans, the largest funeral procession in North Texas in many years. Within days, "Heaven Needed a champion" was released and Texas Stadium was booked for one of the biggest wrestling spectaculars ever."David was the one he (Jack) saw as taking over the business," Harmes remembered. "He wanted David to become the NWA champion so he could have some time making big money. David wasn't in love with being in the ring. His love was horses. He saw wrestling as a way to set himself up for a great life. Kevin and Kerry were always their own biggest marks. David was a more stable guy."At about this time, Kevin started becoming a different wrestler. The most gifted athletically of the entire family, the bare-footed Kevin specialized in flying moves which would be considered normal fare by the top wrestlers today, but by the standards of the time were spectacular. His dropkicks rivalled Jim Brunzell's as the best in the business. Most wrestlers, however, didn't like working with him because he worked stiff, didn't like to sell much despite being around 225 pounds, and injured people. Many observers from that time believe that when Kerry was given the title shot at Texas Stadium that was originally scheduled for David, it was the first sign that the three-way parity that the brothers were always pushed as having was out the window and a public sign from either the promotion or the Alliance itself that Kerry was a bigger star than Kevin. Kevin at least appeared genuinely despondent that he wasn't the one who was going to get to win the title in his brother's name since he was the older brother. Even if it was all simply a work, he was never the same wrestler after that point. Kerry became the superstar of the family and Kevin slowly faded in-and-out of wrestling over the next few years with less and less notice each time. The tragedies, and the public nature of them seemingly got to him more and more as the years went by. He used to tell people that when you're a regular person, you have skeletons in your closet. When you're a Von Erich, you have them dangling in your front yard.While Jack may have deluded himself that his sons could do no wrong, apparently the sons in many cases believed they couldn't do enough right. Growing up and having to then live with the Von Erich name, they apparently believed they had to live up to a standard of athletic and moral perfection that few could attain. Those within the Texas wrestling scene have always pointed at Fritz as the villain in the family story. The usually jovial Boyd Pierce, who worked for years in Dallas as a television and ring announcer and is well-known in wrestling for not having anything bad to say about almost anyone, used to joke that Will Rogers never met Fritz Von Erich (in reference to Will Rogers' saying that he never met a man he didn't like). Certainly the combination of the permissiveness in the upbringing, protection from having to deal with their mistakes, combined with the destiny of their future drummed into them from childhood that they couldn't live up to made them ill equipped for coping with the real world. They were taught that David and Jackie were in a better place, and it was no work that the brothers were all close with one another and, one by one, maybe it became time to join them. No matter what the real background reasons were, this was one screwed up family. Even before the deaths, that was the general consensus within wrestling. But even his fiercest critics and enemies have to admit that for whatever deceptions and abuses he propagated throughout the years, and there were many, that he has paid for them in personal grief many times over.Still, the talk of Fritz Von Erich, the villain of the Von Erich story, largely came after the death of Michael. Unlike his brothers, Mike was not a good athlete. That only meant the Von Erich mythology would have to be more creative. Mike was billed as having been the best amateur wrestler and best all-around athlete of the brothers. He was said to have broken Kevin's record for the most points in the high school district track meet, which Kevin probably didn't set in the first place. None of this was true, as Mike never competed in track beyond the junior varsity level and played special teams on his small high school football team. He was said to have the potential to surpass all the others. Mike, who was 6-1, but resembled David greatly, was thrust into the spotlight faster than ever because there needed to be three Von Erichs on top, and David was gone. When the announcers would fawn all the praise on Mike about being a better athlete than his brothers, he would stand there embarrassed about the praise and nervous on his interviews. From all accounts, Mike never wanted to be a wrestler. Soon he was pushed as a main eventer, a world title contender, held the group's American title, beat all the top heels and virtually never did any jobs, all at around 190 pounds and as one of the poorest main event performers of the era. Even at that, on July 4, 1984 in Fort Worth, Mike participated in the match of the year, a six-man tag, against The Freebirds.The Penthouse article stated the pressure led Mike not only to dangerous doses of steroids to increase his size, but to uppers and downers as well. He was forever separating a chronic bad shoulder, suffered in a high school sports injury when he tumbled over hurdles. The trouble started piling up. In May 1985, he was charged with two counts of misdemeanor assault against an emergency room physician. A Denton County jury acquitted him. In September he contracted the toxic shock syndrome that nearly killed him. The greatest crime came in July, when he was, amidst incredible hype, put back into the ring. The return of Mike to Reunion Arena drew 10,000 fans. In November, he totalled his Lincoln Continental when he ran off an embankment but escaped with only a minor head injury. Kevin went on television the next week discussing the incident and blamed himself, saying he kept Mike up too late that night studying wrestling videotapes. He was later arrested and spent five hours in jail on drunk and disorderly charges. A few months later, criminal mischief charges were dismissed against him when he agreed to pay a Fort Worth man $900 for kicking in the door of his car. On April 11, 1987, Mike left a bar in Denton and was swerving severely while driving home. An officer pulled him over and found a small bottle of marijuana, two bottles incorrectly labeled that actually contained 78 pills of five varieties, mainly painkillers. Mike tried to bribe the cop, but when that failed agreed to a blood test. While it showed his alcohol level at a legal .05, it also showed several drugs, presumably placidyls, barbiturates and Valium or its equivalents in his system. He was arrested for drunk driving and controlled substance charges. When he was released, it was the last time he was seen alive. While a suicide note was found before his body, the promotion announced at a spot show in Lubbock after Mike had disappeared but before his body was found, that he was missing and foul play was suspected. The attempt, which didn't succeed this time, was to work the story once again. The cause of death was an overdose of Placidyl, self administered.Chris Adkisson had been around wrestling dressing rooms for as long as anyone could remember. While growing up, it was considered a given that one day he'd be a superstar wrestler. But unlike even Mike, who at least played some sports in high school, Chris' asthma kept him away from athletics. He always palled around with older brother Mike and wore his hair and dressed like Kerry. Chris was even smaller than Mike, at about 5-5, 165. On a religious television show about the Von Erichs in early 1986, Fritz was on bragging about Chris was the best amateur wrestler of the group and had only lost once as an amateur, to a boy seven years older than him. The host, who had heard Fritz going on and on about the sports accomplishments of Kevin, Kerry and Mike, by this time was even incredulous and when Fritz started his spiel about little Chris, sarcastically said, "and he never lost an amateur wrestling match." By the time Chris got out of high school, Kevin and Kerry had nearly put the company out of business and Jerry Jarrett took over as a partner and was in control of the office and didn't want to use Chris, who had done some independent work. It ended in a messy split when Jarrett tried to push his son Jeff and phase down Kevin and Kerry, and eventually both the Von Erichs and Jarrett wound up out of the market with Global in control. Just before the Von Erich/Jarrett split up, Jarrett finally relented and booked Chris in a few gimmick matches, mainly against Percy Pringle.Simms trained Chris, who, surprisingly, had virtually never been in the ring until a few weeks before his debut and his matches with Pringle (now the WWF's Paul Bearer)."He had a suicidal mind," Simms remembered about Chris. Chris was hampered by his asthma, and his medication caused him to lose muscle tone. The police believed the combination of an arm injury suffered a few weeks before his death and the medication caused him to become despondent of him losing his physique, and he was having a difficult time coming to grips with the fact he wasn't going to be able to make it as a wrestler.On September 12, 1991, Chris called up Kevin and was very despondent. At 9 p.m., Kevin and Doris found Chris about 150 yards from the family ranch. He had shot himself in the head with a 9 mm pistol. He was rushed to East Texas Medical Center in Tyler, where he passed away at 10:27 p.m. Investigators found a one-page hand-written suicide note, where Chris wrote that his family was not to blame for his suicide and that he was sorry. In the note, he wrote about his three older brothers who had died, but there was no indication that played a part in his decision to take his own life. He was 21."I remember right after Chris shot himself that Kerry and I went to eat with his two daughters," recalled Simms. "We started talking about Chris and he said Chris had a lot of balls. I asked, `Why do you say that?' He said, `It took a lot of balls to put a gun to your head.'"Bruce Hart, at least in some ways, grew up in a similar environment as the Von Erichs. His father was a legendary wrestler and became a promoter. His brothers all wrestled at one time or another. Like Kerry, one of his brothers eventually became world champion. He even had a tragic death, brother Dean at age 36, although it was not drug related or self-inflicted, and some other brothers who had their own problems, some of which went public."I can relate to the pressure," said Hart. "Maybe the difference is we were able to see it was a work. I remember talking with Kevin and Kerry and we talked about our similarities and it's pretty weird. My biggest perception of the difference was the drugs, but it's a cause and effect thing. Most of us were pretty clean which enabled us to deal with our problems less traumatically. Our father also never allowed us to deify ourselves. Fritz was relentless in pushing them. They weren't bad kids. I saw them as being pretty sensitive. Kerry always seemed to be reaching out for a life line."As a performer, Kerry was somewhat green, but carryable, but loaded with a certain dumb-jock charisma that appealed to teenage girls that no promotion has been able to duplicate since. At the same time, he wasn't pretty enough to alienate the guys when he started clicking as a draw in 1982. He worked with the best and learned from the best over the next two years until the time that he became one of the best himself. By early 1985, he and Ric Flair toured several territories--Hawaii, Missouri, Mid South and of course his home World Class area and put on the state-of-the-art matches for that time period. The World Class television and the Von Erich name was so strong that Flair and Kerry were able to sell out Honolulu for their 60:00 draw, sell out St. Louis for a 65:00 draw, and draw a $175,000 house at the Superdome in New Orleans, all out of Kerry's home territory, in the first few months of 1985. Most were classics, but not all. One night Flair and Kerry had to work a 60:00 draw in Fort Worth and nobody could find Kerry. Eventually they found him passed out in his car. They managed to revive him and get him into the ring, but he was zombie-like and Flair had to carry him through perhaps the worst 60:00 draw of his career. Kerry was brought into Chicago for an AWA card at Comiskey Park that drew more than 20,000, and got a bigger pop than any of the regulars. Every promoter in wrestling wanted to be a part of the Kerry Von Erich gravy train. Still, in early 1986, unexplainably, his performance started wavering.In June 1986, Kerry was involved in a serious motorcycle accident. He was traveling at an unsafe speed riding his bike wearing nothing but gym shorts and no shoes. He made an ill-advised pass and crashed into the back of a patrol car. After 13 hours of a new process called microsurgery, they transplanted muscle and skin tissue from Kerry's back to restore circulation and try to save his foot. He also suffered a dislocated hip, a crushed right ankle and many internal injuries. Nearly every specialist put to rest any hopes of him ever coming back to the ring.The promotion, at this time on a noticeable downslide and feeling the pressure from the expansion of the WWF, Mid South and Crockett all coming into North Texas, put the big lie back into effect. The Von Erich mythology, as given by Kevin on television, was that Kerry was in a motorcycle accident as everyone had already heard, but it wasn't serious and he'd be back in the ring in about a month. When that month was up, Kevin would say Kerry would be back in about another month or two. The fear was that if fans were told it would be a year, or maybe never, before Kerry could return, they'd tune out of World Class and either forget wrestling, or turn to the opposition groups which had their own stable of superstars. By Thanksgiving, Kerry showed up on television on crutches and took about two baby steps on his own. It seemed well past insanity one month later when it was announced Kerry would return to the ring on a major show in Fort Worth against his former best friend Brian Adias. On crutches, Kerry came into the building, then, according to Penthouse, a doctor filled a syringe with enough novocaine to numb Secretariat, and Kerry walked to the ring, and basically immobile, worked a 5:00 match, winning of course. But the news was mainly bad. The Von Erich magic was gone to the masses in Dallas. Kerry's return drew only 2,326 fans. And in the process, his ankle was rebroken. Four months later, his foot was supposedly permanently fused into a walking position. Miraculously enough, Kerry returned to action on Thanksgiving of 1987 and toured Japan with Kevin a few weeks later. All things considered, the very fact he could still work, let alone work at an acceptable level, although he was never able to come anywhere close to his 1985 peak, may have been, in reality as opposed to fantasy, the thing he should be most admired for. In the fantasy world of his own promotion, Kerry became a world champion once again. Kerry had beaten Al Perez on March 6, 1988 in Dallas to win the World Class title, since the promotion by this time had split with Crockett, who controlled the NWA title. Kerry traded it once with Jerry Lawler and Tatsumi Fujinami during the year, before the title was done away with after Lawler won a PPV unification match in Chicago.Somewhere along with way, Kerry's bad foot was amputated. It's not clear whether the microsurgery, which was at best a 50/50 proposition in those days, failed to be successful, or if he did so much damage making his ill-advised comeback match with Adias and the operation that it was released as having to fuse to foot was actually the amputation. Most likely it was the latter, since many in wrestling have said that Kerry being put into the ring with Adias well before he was ready played a part in his losing his foot. It was largely unknown in wrestling circles, although a few people working for the Dallas office had suspicions since Kerry never removed his boot, even while showering. One time some of the wrestlers told the story of going into a pool with Kerry, who went in with his boot on, and when he got out of the water, there was an incredible amount of water coming out of his boot. The world, or at least the inside wrestling world, first heard the story in the summer of 1988 when he was on an AWA show in Las Vegas against Col. DeBeers. DeBeers grabbed Von Erich by the boot of his right foot, and suddenly, the boot came off, revealing a sock without a foot in it. DeBeers, and the fans at ringside who saw this, were taken aback, a hush drew over the stunned crowd. Von Erich grabbed his boot, put his leg under the ring to hide it, and put the boot back on. When the word leaked about the incident, which initially was only reported in this and one other publication, denials came everywhere. Rob Russen, who was doing publicity for the AWA denied the story, despite the fact he was sitting right in front when it happened. Jerry Lawler, who was feuding with Von Erich at the time, claimed he had seen the foot, that it was all scarred up and that's why Von Erich never took the boot off. Because of the denials, this turned into one of the most controversial issues of late 1988. The WWF even got involved, as before the Lawler-Von Erich PPV match, they went to the Illinois commission and tried to get Von Erich banned from wrestling because of an ancient statute in the books about boxers and wrestlers with amputated limbs being unable to perform. The commission avoided the issue by scheduling a hearing for Von Erich after the match date, by which time everything was forgotten since there was no political advantage in blocking Von Erich from wrestling other than screwing with the show. The two had an excellent match, with Von Erich losing when the ref stopped the match because he was bleeding. Before the match even started, Kerry was fooling around with the blade backstage and somehow sliced up his arm, which was bleeding as he came to the ring forthe match. A few weeks before the match, Von Erich told Bill Apter that he could photograph him with his boot off after the match to end the controversy. All night Von Erich continued to stall until finally he told Apter just to tell everyone that he saw him with his boot off and to tell people he had seen his right foot.In early 1990, WCW called up Kerry to bring him in, thinking they could bring back the Flair-Kerry feud and hope that it still had its box office magic. However, Kerry no-showed his first scheduled TV appearance and WCW chalked him up as a lost cause. A few months later, WWF came calling and Kerry grabbed the chance to resurrect himself as a national star. Vince McMahon, who no doubt wanted Kerry as much as almost anyone when he started his national expansion in 1984 (McMahon's own magazine occasionally reported on the Von Erichs while ignoring the existence of every other promotion) talked Kerry into leaving Texas. As irony would have it, at almost the same time, Brutus Beefcake suffered a para-sailing accident and Kerry, now renamed The Texas Tornado, took his place against Mr. Perfect to capture the Intercontinental title at Summer Slam of 1990. The reign was short-lived, and Kerry slowly moved his way down the cards. In February of 1992, his father called the WWF and said his son was having drug problems and needed rehab. At the same time, Kerry was arrested for forging prescriptions. The much-publicized drug raid of the WWF dressing room in St. Louis was largely caused on a tip that was believed to have been related to Kerry, who no-showed the card since it was during the period Titan had given him off for rehab. Kerry finally went through the rehab, and apparently it made a difference over the short run. But by the summer, WWF let Kerry go. Kerry was a time bomb ready to explode and the WWF was in no position to be able to not be seriously damaged by the explosion."We did everything we could for him," said WWF spokesperson Steve Planamenta in August when the company released him.Four hours after Kerry's death, Jack Adkisson had to come up with the final chapter of the Von Erich mythology. Jack admitted that his son had his right foot amputated, who said everyone at the hospital and the physical therapists had all been sworn to secrecy about."No one knew. It was extremely painful at first," he said in the Fort Worth Star-Telegram. "Kerry's had a drug problem since that accident, and no one was ever about to tell why." He said Kerry didn't want anyone to tell because "Fellas might think he was weaker." The story that nobody knew was another example of not accepting what was going on in the real world and accepting only self-created fantasy. Kerry's predicament was a major story in late 1988, and was even reported in one Dallas newspapers shortly after the incident with DeBeers in Las Vegas. Still, the Dallas television media acted stunned at the revelation. The story of his drug problem beginning with the accident is also not accurate.Grey Pierson, promoter of the Friday night shows at the Sportatorium, immediately went public hyping a Kerry Von Erich Memorial show for the next evening. Kerry had been scheduled in the main event on the card against Dave Sheldon, who ironically uses the ring name Angel of Death. That afternoon, Kevin Adkisson, 35, the lone living son of Jack, who flew home the day before from a wrestling tour of the Virgin Islands, went to the Dallas media and decried the event. Kevin said that he, his father and his mother disapproved of the event, wouldn't be at the event, and accused Pierson of trying to capitalize on his brother's death. "I want the people to know that the Von Erichs don't have anything to do with that at all. In fact, I think it's terrible to try and exploit something like that." The irony of that statement was lost on very few. Many of the 3,038 fans, still heavily papered but it is expected it was the most paid at a Sportatorium wrestling event in a long time, particularly women, sobbed at ringside during the 45 minute ceremony. Simms, Sheldon, Jack's long-time lieutenant in the glory days, David Manning, Chris Adams, Japanese photographer Jimmy Suzuki and Dallas City Councilman Al Lipscomb all delivered eulogies in a ring decorated with flowers and plants with a huge photo of Kerry, with one of his wrestling robes and a pair of his boots on display. A shocking number of fans, the ones who, like Kerry, were unable to let go of the fantasy despite one news story after another over the past decade, still wouldn't allow themselves to face the truth. Many believed somebody shot him, and that the drug stories involving him were all concocted.The reality was that Kerry Adkisson was a likeable guy according to those who knew him best, if you could get past the fact he was sheltered in almost a Peter Pan like existence where he didn't have to grow up. But you had to accept that about him. He wasn't particularly intelligent, but that was part of his charm to the fans and his friends, and he had a lot of both, and part of the funny stories that he'll leave behind. He was hardly a saint. Certainly he wasn't particularly honest, but some of that can be traced to his upbringing where he was taught to con the marks at all times and yet con himself into clinging to the fantasy. Not clinging to the fantasy of wrestling, but to the fantasy of the Von Erichs, to the same bitter end that, sad to say, was his destiny, almost no different than Andre the Giant. He was a great athlete, and maybe under different circumstances would have been the biggest stars in this profession, a spot he was seemingly destined for a decade ago. But if he ever had reached that spot, the travel and the pressures of the spotlight probably would have self-destructed him in one form or another. The one thing, ironically, that as an athlete and as a competitor he deserves the most credit for, being able to come back to the ring with one foot and still perform better than many, no matter how ill-advised it probably was, had to be hidden because it, too, would have meant facing reality. Some of the bizarre things, like the night after his wife served him with divorce papers when he grabbed the house mic at the Sportatorium and told the fans that his wife was divorcing him so he'd be collecting phone numbers in the back, were probably less based on ego and arrogance as much as naivete and stupidity. Others, like when he would go to a spot show and say he would let fans take Polaroids with him for $5 and that all the money would go to charity, but somehow the money never went to charity, may have been as much based on his upbringing in regard to fans simply being marks to be conned. But it was those same fans that gave him his world. It was the only real world he knew. It was the world where he was Kerry Von Erich, the Modern Day Warrior. It was the only world he could survive in. And that world was coming to an end.Kerry Adkisson was buried alongside his brothers on February 22 at Grove Hill Memorial Park in East Dallas. Of the many major deaths in wrestling in recent years, none received the amount of media coverage as this one. Ironically, neither World Championship Wrestling, which ran a pay-per-view event on Sunday, nor the World Wrestling Federation, which ran its live Monday Night Raw show the following evening, acknowledged the death of the man who not all that many years ago was one of the three or four biggest stars in its world. Even under the most real of circumstances, they still had to ignore it on the grounds it might interfere with their fantasy. Maybe in that way, Kerry Von Erich did the only thing he had learned, protecting his fantasy world to the bitter end.