Growing Up With Evel

His father's larger than life persona wasn't an act, according to Kelly Knievel. 'Let me tell you, he was Evel Knievel even at the breakfast table.' The legendary daredevil's eldest son reveals what it was like to be the envy of every Seventies child - growing up in the house of Evel.

Words: Stuart Barker

Most Seventies children grew up with Evel Knievel around the house, his bendable rubber effigy and wind-up motorcycle providing endless hours of fun for the pre-Playstation generation.

            But for one child, the self-styled 'Last of the Gladiators' wasn't a super hero in a star-spangled jumpsuit and cape, or an indestructible cartoon figure with superhuman powers; for Kelly Knievel, Evel Knievel was simply dad. Could there have been a more desirable father for any child in the 1970s? Or was the real thing a disappointment, a diluted, docile version of the outrageous public figure that was, for a brief period, amongst the most recognisable in the western world? 'People often ask me “What was he like when he came home?”' Kelly says with the same intense delivery and Montana drawl as his father. 'Well let me tell you, he was Evel Knievel even at the breakfast table. I'm not kidding you – he did not play an act. That was who he was and how he thought, and he was that way no matter what he was doing.'

            Kelly Knievel is currently promoting True Evel, a worldwide tour of Evel Knievel memorabilia, including the real-life versions of the toys we all played with; the Harley-Davidson jump bike that Knievel crashed while attempting to leap over a pool of sharks in 1976; the steam-powered X-2 Sky Cycle that so famously failed to propel Knievel a a mile over the Snake River Canyon in Idaho in 1974 - an event so greatly anticipated that TV channels interrupted their Watergate coverage to screen it. The iconic Elvis-style white jumpsuits are there too, still bearing the scuffs and tears that resulted from Knievel's countless crashes and offering about as much protection as Presley's: Knievel suffered more than 433 broken bones during his lifetime, enough to earn him an entry in the Guinness Book of Records.

Kelly owns many of his dad's iconic bikes, suits and helmets

            Most of the memorabilia on show is now owned by Kelly who bought it from his father in the 1980s when the daredevil's star had waned and he was reduced to living in a converted bus, roaming aimlessly around the United States in a haze of Wild Turkey. Along with Evel's intellectual property (including trademarks and image rights) which he later bought in the 1990s, it proved to be a shrewd investment as Evel's iconic status was eventually restored in that same decade thanks to a resurgence of interest and sudden nostalgia for all things Seventies.

            Unlike his brother Robbie – who has succeeded his father as the king of motorcycle jumpers – Kelly has largely chosen to remain out of the limelight in the past but is now throwing his weight behind the True Evel tour and recently appeared at the famous London bikers' haunt, the Ace Cafe, to talk about life with his father. 'My dad was a very difficult person to work with' he admits. 'He had his own agenda and he had to be in charge of everything. He was a brilliant businessman but he didn't cross the 't's and dot the 'i's, you know? So I'm president of the company (K and K Promotions Inc.) that owns all of this memorabilia. When my dad died there were a few legal messes that he left me with – I had to clean up some bills and stuff. That took about a year. In fact there are still a few matters tied up in court. But the opportunity presented itself and the whole family now shares in the deal. It would be foolish not to try and take advantage of it.'

            The Ace Cafe is almost within sight of Wembley Stadium where Evel Knievel (real name Robert Craig Knievel) made his only UK appearance in 1975. Such was his appeal at the time, he managed to sell out the stadium for what would effectively be just a few minutes of entertainment. No mean achievement, especially considering he did it almost single-handedly. 'This guy became the most famous person in the western world in the span of ten years, with no marketing department, no nothing' Kelly says, clearly still struggling to fully comprehend his father's astonishing achievements. 'He had no helpers, no managers, no ad agencies....Of course what the guy did was something special. It's about time somebody figured it out for Chrissakes – he was one in a billion. It's not like he had somebody else's platform to capitalise on; not like he was a football player or a soccer player. This was something he did all on his own. He created his own arena. It's astounding what he did.'

Kelly Knievel at the Ace Cafe, London

            A businessman himself with some 14 years in the construction industry behind him, and a successful career in advertising prior to that, 58-year-old Kelly may be full of admiration for his father's ingenuity when it came to making money, but he seems to be at a loss to explain exactly where that ingenuity came from. 'I really don't know. Somehow he just created an opportunity for himself. But the stuff that he thought of in his mind....I mean after he crashed at Caesar's Palace he was unconscious for two weeks. He breaks his pelvis, he almost gets killed, then he gets up and says “Well f*ck it I'm going to jump the Grand Canyon.” How did the guy think of that shit? He crashes at Wembley trying to jump over 13 buses and he's in the hospital thinking “I'm not going to go out as a f*cking loser – I'm gonna jump 14 buses.” I mean, how does a guy think like that? It's just astounding to me.'

            Along with the big ideas came a big ego, something of a given in a man who has been called the most shameless self-promoter since PT Barnum. Clearly it wasn't always fun living in the house of Evel. 'It wasn't easy. I mean my dad was a difficult person. At the height of his fame he had a big ego. He was an overpowering personality and that's hard to deal with as a kid. I wouldn't say he was a strict father as such but he meant business. When he said “Jump” you said “How high?” He liked things the way he liked them and, you know what? Son-of-a-bitch, he was usually right. He liked things done correctly; things had to be done accurately.'

            But when every kid in the street is trying to mimic your father's jumps on their push-bikes or playing with the Knievel wind-up toys that reputedly grossed $300 million over a ten-year period, life for a Knievel kid must surely have been fun, right? One long-running trip to fantasy island. 'It's a hard thing for people to understand but it just seemed normal to us' Kelly tries to explain. 'It was awe-inspiring and crazy but, to us, that was normal. I mean, my dad was a grounded person. Even though he had a huge imagination and character, he was still a very grounded person and I think that has to do with who he was and where he was from. We're from a small town in a big mining area and people got what they got in Butte, Montana because they worked hard and got lucky. If they got arrogant about it, they got knocked on their ass. In Butte, there's no “Well, that guy's a rich guy and this guy's a poor guy” attitude. The guy that owns the bank lives next to the guy that cleans the toilets. It's like there's no delineation – you got where you were by luck in the mining business. Part of my dad's characteristics were “Okay, I'm Evel Knievel and I'm rich and I'm famous and I might have a lot of character and imagination but I'm not better than you.” He never thought he was better than anyone.'

            Like almost every other Seventies child, Kelly Knievel whiled away happy hours winding up his gyro-powered Evel Knievel Stunt Cycle toy and asking it to make impossible leaps over improvised obstacles. 'Yeah, we had the wind-up toys. I remember playing with them, but it's not that we needed the toys – I mean, that was our real life.'

            Evel claimed to be the first real person to have an action doll made in his likeness (as opposed to the generic Action Man and GI Joe figures). So wasn't it just a little weird to see your dad being immortalised in an action figure? Not to mention the psycho-analytical implications of slamming an effigy of your father into brick walls. 'No, we didn't think about life like that. It's just not the way we were raised. It was like “Okay, they've made a toy of dad.” I mean we were not in awe of our father's celebrity, let me put it that way. We knew he was famous, we knew what he did, but we weren't star struck – he was still our father.'

            Few children have to endure watching their fathers risk life and limb every other weekend but, despite the horrific injuries suffered by Evel in the course of making over 300 professional jumps, Kelly says he never worried that his father might die in the name of entertainment. 'I don't remember being really scared when my dad jumped. Maybe a couple of times, but with some of Robbie's jumps I've been scared to death. Robbie's performed some unbelievably long jumps (Robbie has made a career out of successfully completing all the jumps his father failed to land, including leaps over the Grand Canyon and the fountains at Caesar's Palace in Las Vegas). There's been a couple of times when I've been like “Jesus Christ, how did he pull that off?” I've been a lot more scared during Robbie's jumps than I ever was with my dad. For some reason, it never entered my mind that my dad could die. When I was young I just didn't think that he could get killed.'

Evel with Kelly in the early 70's

            Kelly did, however, witness the price his father had to pay for being the world's greatest daredevil: Evel Knievel was rarely devoid of injury and spent a total of three years in hospital. 'He always said “I'm a daredevil – you gotta be man enough to take the consequences.” And he was. I mean, physically, he was one tough son-of-a-bitch. Seriously. He was a physically tough man; not a strong man, but he could take pain. I mean, he could f*cking take it. He was an athlete too so he healed up pretty good. It was only later in his life, like the last five years of his life, that he really suffered. I think he was in horrific pain during his final years.'

            For a time it had seemed that Kelly would follow in his father's footsteps. Along with Robbie, when the pair were both under ten years old, they would perform wheelies and other stunts as an opening act at some of Evel's shows, replete with their cute mini Knievel jumpsuits and capes, but Kelly later abandoned the idea of becoming a professional daredevil. 'There were quite a few reasons why I didn't go through with it - I'll show them to you' he says, pulling the shirt up on his right arm to reveal some ugly scars. 'I've got scars on my wrist, my arm, my ankle, my knee...Those were all from motorcycle wrecks before I was 15 years old. But I think the real difference is that I have no desire to be famous. None. Fame comes with a price and it's something that just doesn't interest me.'

Like father, like son: the defiant stare is identical

            While he may have led a privileged childhood in terms of all the related trappings that coincide with having a genuine American icon as a father, Kelly admits his dad wasn't around as much as he would have liked. At the height of his fame in the mid-70s Evel was not only jumping increasingly dangerous and bizarre obstacles, he was also playing himself in the movies (1977's Viva Knievel!), recording albums (a self-titled release by Amherst records in 1974), appearing on chat shows and in Playboy and Penthouse magazine, promoting his Ideal toy range, playing in Pro-Am golf tournaments, gambling untold amounts in Vegas, and hanging out with a string of Hollywood beauties. 'He was away a lot of the time – he was on the road a lot. When people used to ask me where he lived I'd tell them he lived wherever the wind blew him. His whole life was like that. He'd go some place, wear out his welcome, and move on down the road. That's the way he lived.'

            Much of that time was spent in the company of other women. Knievel claimed to have bedded over 2,000 women, despite being married for most of his adult life. Conservative and traditional, even by 1970s standards, his first wife Linda tolerated his infidelities for longer than most would have, but the couple were finally estranged in the mid-Eighties and Evel would later marry (and divorce) Krystal Kennedy, a Pro golfer 31 years his junior. 'It was probably very difficult for her' Kelly says of his mother, Linda. 'It was hard on us too. You know, my dad and I never talked about that. As a kid I was fiercely loyal to my mom so he and I never talked about it. He talked about it to other people but not to me. I knew it went on but, what the f*ck? It goes in one ear and out the other when I hear other people criticise him for that. God damn, he was Evel Knievel but he was a human being too.'

"Don't do anything I do!" Dad passes on some tips to Kelly and Robbie 

            Evel Knievel didn't die by his own hand during one of his increasingly bizarre stunts: he passed away in November, 2007 of pulmonary fibrosis, an incurable lung disease, having already received a liver transplant in 1998 and battled with diabetes and hepatitis C. 'He was one hell of a unique individual' Kelly says when asked to sum up what his father means to him. 'I've never met another person in my life who had so much self-belief in their own ability to do whatever they set their mind to. He was so positive about his own abilities and his own skills - there just was not a doubt in the guy's mind. That's difficult to explain to people. Some people feel they have to compartmentalise their life, so they're a businessman or a dad or whatever. He didn't do any of that - he was one person.'

            Although he clearly holds his father in great esteem, Kelly has learned well that the message Evel preached was not to think like he did, but rather to think for himself. I never think “What would Evel have done in this situation?” Never. My dad raised us to be individuals and to think for ourselves. He'd say “Here's life, you make your own ship in life and God-damn but you better learn to steer it well cos no-one's going to help you.”'