Editor’s Note: Evel Knievel would have turned 75 on Oct. 17. He died in 2007.
There he sat in my swivel chair, feet propped up on my desk, my telephone cradled between his shoulder and chin, striking deals from California to Timbuktu.
I had entered my publicity office at Pocono Downs that morning in July, 1971, and encountered the self-promoting stranger cuddled up with the phone, wheeling and dealing with his coast-to-coast contacts.
That was my introduction to motorcycle daredevil, Robert “Evel” Knievel.
He had arrived at Pocono Downs to perform one of his feats of derring-do and, in his first act of brashness, had commandeered my office.
For the next 10 days or so, I was his “gofer.” I dutifully served Knievel, accommodating his needs as an errand boy as well as scheduling and escorting him on promotional appearances from Wilkes-Barre, Pa., to Binghamton, N.Y. To set up appointments, I even got to use my telephone and sit in my chair.
We let the world know Knievel had come to Pocono Downs for a global-record ramp-to-ramp jump over 12 Stegmaier beer trucks.
Knievel and I had made the rounds and not only to newspapers and radio and TV stations. At a biker hangout-the 10th Race in downtown Wilkes-Barre-Knievel was cheered wildly, particularly when he roared: “Give everyone a drink.”
He never paid for the drinks. But the tavern owner, cigarchomping Tony Valenti didn’t mind. Valenti later told me that Knievel left $100 tips for the waitress and the bartender. The waitress was Tony’s mother.
Meanwhile, at Pocono Downs, Knievel proved a crowdpleaser, a consummate showman on or off his two-wheeler.
Late night thunderstorms resulted in several postponements of Knievel’s “history-making” jump and that was making brewery officials uneasy. For one, their help was receiving overtime pay to drive the 12 beer wagons to the track night-after-night. That was becoming expensive for a small brewery.
Finally, on August 1, 1971, Knievel did his thing, racing his cycle 90 mph down a plywood runway onto the ramp and soaring over the beer trucks, then releasing a chute on touch down.
Looking back, it was a memorable two weeks I spent in the company of Knievel, the most unforgettable character I’ve ever met. He told me of his plans to hurdle Snake River Canyon which I thought was sheer folly. He did it September 8, 1974.
Shortly after departing Pocono Downs, Hollywood released the film “Evel” Knievel, starring Robert Craig.
Earl Watson is a resident of Stonecrest.
