Lord Littlebrook Part One

After arriving in the Midwest area and becoming a household word in the world of professional wrestling, I was always faced with the task of getting back into the ring. I had wrestled all over the North American continent and beaten a lot of guys. I had been beaten by a lot of guys, some smaller then me, some bigger. I had been badgered by promoters far and wide to wrestle in matches I really didn't care for.

One time, I wrestled in a match in the South with five other guys against the late Happy Humphrey, a 700-pound giant from Macon, Georgia. It was kind of a mini-battle royal, but the rotund Humphrey beat us all.

Once, I was involved in a match in Kansas City with Black Angus, Roger Kirby and me against Rufus R. Jones, Omar Atlas and Jean Antone. I never thought it was possible for a woman to have the strength, the stamina, the endurance, and the fortitude that Jean had, but she was a fighter, and I am glad that is behind me now.

I have been in matches where it was referred to as a 4 1/2-man tag team---I have been inside of cages---I faced a lot of different odds while in the business. I even once faced Roger Littlebrook, a midget, in a six-man tag team match in Wichita, Kansas.

The old gunfighters of the West had the same tasks as I did in keeping law and order in the ring. I had fought long and hard to preserve a certain enigma about myself. I was a Teflon manager before Teflon was invented. I got out of more situations than most people could get into. I dominated the Century II Auditorium every two weeks when we came to town to wrestle. It was as if I was a part of royalty coming home to a big castle.

I had been involved in a few questionable endings of matches over a three-month period with superstars in our area like Danny Littlebear and Rufus R. Jones. They would go after the matches and cry out to promoter Gust Karras about the foul tactics Angus or Kirby used to win matches. Or, that they needed just five more minutes, and they would have gained a victory and won the coveted Central States championship belt. Or, they would complain about the man in the corner diverting their attention long enough to beat them in an unfair manner.

I never could understand why promoters could take sides in an argument. I assumed that they would be impartial and take issues at face value. Not Gust Karras---he was a people kind of guy that catered to fans at their first whim.

I had been called to the Kansas City office one morning to address a few things with Gust Karras. The office was on the upper floors of the Kansas Citian Hotel on Broadway. I parked in the executive lot that was beside the huge stone structure and went inside. There was always a hustle and bustle of things going on in the lobby area, as the hotel was a Mecca for has-beens and wannabe's. A few of the regulars called out to me as I walked to the elevators, giving me what for and letting me know that I was not appreciated in the building.

As usual, for the most part I turned and gave them a few lines of why I was the best thing that had ever happened to Kansas City. After all, the Chiefs couldn't win a football game, their Royals baseball team stunk, and, for the most part, everything else about Kansas City stunk like the old stockyards on the outskirts of town. I was the ONLY winner in Kansas City. Needless to say, they weren't too happy with me---and I didn't care, either.

I entered the executive suite from a private door used by mostly by Gust's stooges and went directly to his office. I was very polite and knocked, the door eased open, and a huge Rufus R. Jones stood in the opening. I looked and saw Danny Littlebear and Gust sitting at his desk. I was outnumbered but went in anyway.

Gust motioned for me to take a seat on the huge leather couch he had fashioned after the one in his office in St. Joseph, Missouri. It was Royal Blue with the huge letters N.W.A., about two feet high, on the cushions. I was reluctant to sit, as I was pretty well outnumbered---but I sat down quickly when Rufus grabbed my arm and pushed me into the 8" cushions on the couch. He pointed to me and said, "You little weasel---don't you move until Mr. Karras tells you to, or I will break you in half."

Gust began to tell me that Danny and Rufus had been complaining to him about the unfair tactics that had been used in Wichita, and that something needed to be done, and that is why I was called privately to his office without Angus or Kirby. I didn't have a choice of listening or not, as big Rufus sat near me on the couch and just prayed that I would make a move towards the door. He wanted a hunk of my body, and there were no two ways to that story. Danny just sat and smiled as Gust read me the riot act about my tactics at ringside in arenas through out the Midwest.

If only I could reach the phone and call Angus or Kirby---why didn't I think to bring at least one of them along---what am I going to do now????

To be continued...