The Evel
Interview
It all happened so quickly.
After three years of searching for the man they call Evel
Knievel, we stumbled upon him on the Thursday evening before
the 1997 Orlando SX. His manager/friend Mike Gray was
searching for the photographs we took of Evel’s treasures that
were found in Canada. It appears that the bikes and artifacts
were obtained under questionable circumstances. Evel wanted
the photos; we wanted the interview.
With that kind of
bargaining power, we were able to set up an audience at the
East Bay Country Club Lounge, which is located next to a giant
feed store in Clearwater, Florida. I took along McGuyver, a
Florida local and fellow Evelologist, to meet with Mr. Knievel
and his friend Mr. Gray. (Evel- was there because he spends
half his year in Las Vegas, the other half in Florida.) We met
Gray first, then waited for a full three hours before we saw
any sign of Evel. Just as we were about to give up in defeat
once again, our mythical man of motorcycle jumping walked in
through the dark-tinted bar room doors.....
Evel Knievel is taller
and smarter than you think. He is also a bad ass. He drinks a
mix of O’Douls and Miller Lite, and he absolutely hates
cigarette smoke. He can swear like a world champion. The
people at the bar all knew and respected him and they seemed
to welcome us, but not enough to turn down the stupid juke
box. The 58-year-old Knievel brought along his young, funny
girlfriend Crystal, who is just about half his age. He had
just finished golfing and was in seemingly good spirits.
After some brief
introductions, Evel granted us our long-sought interview, and
he started out talking about the said-to-be stolen bikes and
merchandise. From there the interview wound it’s way through a
myriad of topics, from his childhood in Butte, Montana to his
days as one of the most popular figures on the planet.
The strangest part
came when I mentioned my father at one point. Evel picked up
McGuyver’s cell phone and said, "Call him. I want to say hello
to Dave. I haven’t spoken to him in a long time." Evel Knievel
knows my dad? I was stunned. Then once he got him on the
phone, Evel invited Big Dave to come to Florida and go
golfing.
Two hours later it was
just all about to end; three years of searching high and low,
from the Nevada desert to the industrial wastelands of the
Northeast; from Milwaukee to the Gold Coast of Florida; from
Seattle to Daytona. I’d spent thousands of dollars and
countless hours in search of Evel, reading all the books,
buying all the movies. I even joined his Fan Club as a
Lifetime Member in the hopes of finding Evel himself. And
then, just before it all sunk in the frustration, the expense,
the man hours, the hangovers and Evel was about to walk out
the door into the dark mist from which he emerged, I came to a
sudden realization: At any one point during my entire
three-year odyssey, all I had to do to find Evel was ask my
dad for his phone number.
Life is harsh.
Racer X: First of all, do you have any idea how long we've
been looking for you?
Evel Knievel: No.
Rx: Do you know who we
are?
EK: Yeah, Mike Gray told
me. Mike told me about your magazine, he said you've done some
investigating on this phony prick from Canada. (The guy who
had Evel’s bikes in Canada.) Let me tell you something.
Some fat asshole named Louie Guitano came to me...
Waitress: You want
another one?
EK: Yeah, and I want an
O'Douls, too, and a glass... He says, ‘I want you to help me,
I got this gold bike I built for you, gold-plated. I want to
put an Evel Knievel museum together. We're gonna travel around
the country, show all your toys, all your bikes.’ He said,
‘What do you want out of it?’ and I said ‘20% and I'll help
you book it.’ I said, ‘You don't have to buy all this stuff,
I'll donate it to you. I'll get these companies to give it to
you, but you gotta give it back.’
See, I met this guy
through a promotion in New Jersey or something. He had me
jump, then skip-ped me for $10,000. His dad beg-ged me to let
him off because he lost money on some show or some-thing I
did. So anyway, I got Ideal Toys to build him a trailer –
build it for him! I gave it to him but he had to return it. I
gave him the test rocket that I jumped the Snake River Canyon
with – not the X2 – and a motorcycle and leathers, bicycles,
toys… (To waitress) Just put that on a check please….
So he goes to all these race tracks and I start getting calls
from everybody including Bill France from Daytona. He said
‘Evel, this guy came in, he's using your name, said he's gonna
pay us rent, then skipped out on the rent at midnight.’ I said
‘He what?!!’ So he told me that he skipped out at Charlotte
Speedway, then he went to Talledega and did it.
This son-of-a-bitch
stiffed every-body in the world, so I called him up and said
‘Look, you're an asshole, bring the stuff back. You're #@%!ed,
you're an asshole and a liar. You can't go around the country
representing me with a museum and not being honorable to these
race tracks.’ He was selling all kinds of stuff, toys,
everything.
Rx: If the guy in Canada
has it now, he says he’s selling it for $275,000.
EK: No, not that guy,
this #@%!ing Guitano guy!
Rx: Well, what about the
guy in Canada who has it now: How'd he get it?
EK: He got it from
Guitano. Guitano called me up and told me if I took the stuff
away from him he was gonna kill me. Well guess what? He made a
horrible mistake. I had an FBI man standing in my kitchen on
the phone listening to him. He just happened to come down that
morning because Guitano called me three or four times during
the week, and he threatened me. So the FBI sent a guy down
from the Pacific Northwest headquarters to hook up a tape to
my phone. While he was there, Guitano calls. They arrested him
thirty minutes later in New Jersey. Anyway, he took the stuff
to Canada and sold it.
Rx: To the pawn shop?
EK: Yeah, he sold the
rocket and everything. This guy that bought it bought stolen
material, and this guy's been notified by lawyers, with
register receipt letters that he’s got stolen material, that
it belongs to me and he has no right to sell it, and he is
going to be breaking the law if he does.
