The Seattle territory in the early 1970s had two ribs the boys would play on other boys who were new to the territory, and they worked every time with varied results.
Jan Paul, a six-foot, four, 300-pound weightlifter/bodybuilder, became a pro wrestler in 1960. In 1964 he also joined the Seattle Police Department, and moonlighted at night on the mat in various spot shows throughout Washington, Oregon and British Columbia. In 1968, the police department refused to let him wrestle, so he gave up the mat for full-time police work. Once every five weeks, he was assigned the 4:00 p.m. to midnight shift. It was during these times that he would pop into the weekly Seattle wrestling card just to say hello.
On one of these visits he walked into the dressing room in full police outfit (badge, blue uniform, gun, handcuffs, nightstick and boots). He looked like all four members of the Village People rolled into one. Of course, most of the boys on the card that night knew he was Jan Paul, an ex-wrestler, but one worker, who was brand new to the territory, didn't know anything about him. Crazy Luke Graham thought he was a real cop (which he was).
Jan Paul officially trotted over to Luke Graham and advised him he was being placed under arrest, as the parent of a minor female had sworn out an arrest warrant against him for molesting their child. Graham, of course, was speechless, but due to Jan Paul's size and his "working" knowledge, Luke stood up, placed his hands behind his back, and allowed himself to be handcuffed. As Paul led Graham out the door, the dressing room crew cracked up, and only then did Crazy Luke realize that something was fishy.
Jan Paul did this once every five weeks, and he "arrested" an unsuspecting newcomer to the territory every time. Two of his "arrests" stand out above all the rest. One time he "arrested" Bob Beadsley, and as Bob stood up to be handcuffed, he said, "You know, she told me she was nineteen." The boys cracked up so much we had to delay the start of the matches.
The second "arrest" that stood out was the night he came in to lock up Don Fargo. Don had been brought in to work as The American Dream (under a hood), in honor of the 200th anniversary of America. Fargo wasn't a newcomer to Seattle. He had worked there previously in the early 1960s as one of the Dalton Boys, but his path never crossed that of Jan Paul. Jan had "arrested" so many boys he had the routine down perfectly. He stormed into the dressing room, handcuffs in one hand, the other hand on his nightstick. He stormed over to where Don Fargo was sitting, and the other wrestlers knew what to expect.
"Is your name Fargo?" he bellowed. "I have an arrest warrant for you ..." Before he could finish his spiel, Fargo bolted out of his seat and headed for the back door. He later said, "I didn't come to Seattle to be arrested. I came to work." Before he could be told that it was all just a rib, we lost him. He fled the dressing room and never reshowed that night. It wasn't until the next night in Yakima, some 130 miles east of Seattle, that he resurfaced. Needless to say, he was outraged over the incident, but when I paid him anyway for showing up in Seattle for the show, he calmed down. That was the last time I allowed Jan to pull this rib, but it was fun while it lasted.
The other standing rib involved Lumberjack Luke (Beautiful Brutus). Luke used to travel with "Snively," a 14-foot boa constrictor. Luke always told me the snake was harmless, but I later learned he eventually had to euthanise Snively when he bit Luke. Most people shuddered in horror when they saw Snively. Luke carried him around in a Coca Cola cooler and kept him in the dressing room when not using him in the ring.
The television camera crew included an individual who, after taping over one hundred weekly shows, asked to join our staff and help with publicity. His name was Bruce, and he quit his TV job to go on the road for us doing publicity and helping with the ring. Bruce was also afraid of snakes. Actually, he announced he might pass out from fright if he ever had to take Snively back from the ring to the dressing room.
You can almost predict what was to come. The finish of this story took place one night in Spokane. Luke took Snively out of the Coca Cola cooler and put him on the floor in the back of the ring truck. This was, of course, where Bruce normally sat as they rode from town to town. The ring truck turned over on its' side in a ditch between Yakima and Ellensburg. All the chairs and bleacher seats were scattered over the highway, and the truck, while insured, sustained $2,200 worth of damage. No one was injured in the mishap, but you know ... we never heard from Bruce again. The last I heard, he was working in a restaurant in Pendleton, Oregon.
