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Last updated 21 April 2015
Fritz Von Erich, immensely popular in his heyday as a professional
wrestler and immensely pained later in life because of the deaths of four
wrestling sons, died of
cancer yesterday at his home in Shady Shores in Denton County.
Mr. Von Erich, whose real name was Jack Adkisson, was found to have brain
cancer six weeks ago. The cancer was found after Mr. Adkisson, 68, was admitted
to Baylor University Medical Center in Dallas for treatment after a mild
stroke.
A memorial service for Mr. Adkisson will be at noon Saturday at First
Baptist Church in Dallas. Burial will be in Grove Hill Cemetery in Dallas.
Schmitz-Floyd-
Andersen Funeral Home in Denton is handling the arrangements.
Mr. Adkisson, who retired from wrestling in the 1980s, was the father of
the beloved Von Erichs, who reigned over World Class Championship Wrestling
for years. From his trademark "Iron Claw" paralyzing grip on opponents, to
the popularity of his five wrestling sons, Mr. Adkisson built the Von Erich
family as icons.
Mr. Adkisson's only surviving son, Kevin, 40, thanked wrestling fans for
their years of support.
"We would like to express thanks to the fans and community for their
prayers, love and support," Kevin Adkisson said. "Dad loved them very much."
In the 1980s, misfortune mounted, and bit by bit the Von Erich story
became less about wrestling and more about destruction. Three of Mr.
Adkisson's five
wrestling sons -- Kerry, Mike and Chris -- committed suicide. David died
in 1984 after suffering from an intestinal infection while wrestling in Japan.
In 1959, Mr. Adkisson's first son, Jack Jr., died from an accidental
electrical shock at age 7.
Mr. Adkisson was part entertainer, part athlete, part businessman.
His wrestling career took off in the 1950s, with World War II still a
fresh memory. His stage name was invented for its appeal on wrestling
marquees. He took Fritz
from a family name and Erich from his mother's maiden name. If he was
going to play the bad guy, Mr. Adkisson figured, he was going to be very bad.
"The German gimmick was a natural," said a longtime friend, William
"Cowboy Bill" Watts Jr., 58, of Tulsa, Okla., who wrestled against Mr.
Adkisson. "With that
scowl of his, he was an easy guy to hate."
Mr. Adkisson, once a lineman for Southern Methodist University and the
American Football League's Dallas Texans, was an imposing 6 feet 4 inches
tall and
weighed 260 pounds.
In arenas across the state and nation, his wrestling led to boos and jeers
from the crowd. But at home in Dallas, he was every fan's hero.
Bill Mercer, a longtime friend of Mr. Adkisson's, is a retired baseball
broadcaster who announced World Class Championship Wrestling. Mr. Adkisson
was one of
the good guys, Mercer said, but Von Erich was one of the bad ones.
"He was one of the baddest," Mercer said. "Wrestlers told me that he put
everything he could into every bout. These guys loved hitting each other.
People think this stuff is all fake. Guys like Fritz, no. I've seen him
beaten to a pulp."
Johnny Valentine, 69, a Fort Worth resident, wrestled for almost 30 years
and had many bouts against Mr. Adkisson.
"He was the people's bad guy," Valentine said. "They adopted him. If
you're mean enough and tough enough, they get to where they respect you for
that.
"I really loved to pound on him. One week, we would wrestle Fort Worth on
Monday, Dallas on Tuesday, San Antonio on Wednesday and sell out all three
places. People would be turned away. I don't remember who won or lost. It
didn't make much difference. Even the winner was hurt."
World Class Championship Wrestling, the Von Erich family's show, was
immensely popular during the golden age of professional wrestling. It was
syndicated at one time in 66 U.S. television markets, Japan, Argentina and
the Middle East.
The Von Erichs once wrestled in front of 40,000 people at Texas Stadium,
and they nearly always filled the arenas where they competed.
Mr. Adkisson's business acumen helped build the dynasty.
"He knew what he was doing when it came not only to promoting, but to
marketing and investing," said Bill Colville, a family friend who worked as
a bodyguard for
Mr. Adkisson's sons. "He knew where every penny was going, who was doing
what or was supposed to be doing what."
But their triumph became a tragic story in the 1980s.
David, probably the best wrestler of the sons, died at age 25 in 1984.
Suicide claimed the lives of Mike, 23, in 1987; Chris, 21, in 1991; and
Kerry, 33, in 1993.
Their deaths, Watts said, eventually wrecked Mr. Adkisson's marriage to
his wife, Doris. "That was one thing. Family was above everything. They
were a wonderful
couple for a long time until tragedy overtook everything," he said.
Watts, a friend and onetime business partner of Mr. Adkisson's, said the
wrestler's sons "were everything to him."
Arlington attorney Grey Pierson represented two of Mr. Adkisson's sons in
the late 1980s and had become a family friend. He remembers traveling to
Dallas from
his home in Eastland as a child to watch Mr. Adkisson perform.
"As a person, one of the things I felt like he got a bum rap on was . . .
so many blamed his sons' deaths on Fritz," Pierson said. "He didn't strike
me as the bad guy. I didn't feel like Fritz forced anyone into anything."
The Rev. Marc Lowrance, minister of First Methodist Church in Watauga, met
Mr. Adkisson in 1980 when Lowrance became a ring announcer. He called Mr.
Adkisson "inspiring."
"He definitely became a compassionate person because of his pain,"
Lowrance said. "Fritz had a gruff edge to him, until you really saw through
him. He was a deeply troubled man. He wanted to know why" his sons died.
"Fritz hoped that someday the mystery would be solved. That may have been
today."
Mr. Adkisson is survived by his son, Kevin; a daughter-in-law, Pam; and
six grandchildren.
Staff writers Rick Herrin, Chris Vaughn and Michael S. Lee contributed to
this report.
頱997 Fort Worth Star-Telegram