Ted DiBiase (4 page)

I was a good student, so as a reward my grandmother would often give me fifty cents to go into town and watch a movie. The movie theater was only about two miles from the café. I would ride my bike down Railroad Avenue to

My mom wrestled as Helen Hild.

the theater. I'd pay twenty-five cents to see the movie, ten cents for a Coke, ten cents for a box of popcorn, and a nickel for a candy bar. For fifty cents, I enjoyed the movie and had a feast. Times sure have changed.

I used to walk to the full-service gas station next door to Grandma's café. It was there that I saw diverse people from all over the country. I even helped out the station attendant by cleaning either the car's headlights or windows.

I remember the
Superman
television show was very popular at that time. I, of course, wanted to be just like Superman. I would go get a dish towel from the café's kitchen and have Grandma pin it to the collar on the back of my shirt. When I walked, ran, or rode my bike, the towel would flap in the wind just like my hero's cape.

I hung out with my grandfather, Edgar, who was a retired Union Pacific Railroad engineer. He often took me to school. He was a gentle man and was very magnanimous. I used to enjoy watching him work in the garden.

Grandpa was a diabetic. I would watch him take his insulin shot in the thigh right before breakfast. He would drop his pants right there in the kitchen. He was very careful with his diet because of his condition. Every morning he would get up and have the same thing: soft-boiled eggs, wheat toast, and a bowl of Wheaties or Shredded Wheat.

After lunch, Grandpa would go out to the back porch and smoke a cigar. I was curious and would always ask him if I could smoke his cigar. He would smoke that cigar down to the butt and then give it to me. He'd say, “Now, don't inhale it.” I thought it was the coolest thing to puff on that cigar.

Grandpa did some crazy things. I don't know if it was because he was getting up there in age, but he always kept Grandma on her toes. One time, he got this idea that he was going to paint his car. It was a nice, moon-shaped vehicle that ran quite well. He went to the local paint store and purchased a couple of gallons of latex house paint. Right from the can, he painted the entire car silver. My grandma was furious and righty so. The car looked hideous.

My grandmother was an angel. She cared for my brother and me and was very giving and compassionate. I recall many times when she gave hoboes free meals and helped others in need. She was very gracious and taught me about empathy and kindness. Because of her, I have always treated people with dignity and respect.

But Grandma was one tough lady too. Smoking her trademark Salem cigarettes, she would work long hours in the restaurant. As a woman in the 1950s running a truck stop café, you had to have a tremendous amount of determination and good leadership skills. And unequivocally she did.

So many people have told me that my grandma went out of her way to help people. She was an unbelievably kind and hardworking woman. She lived to be eighty-nine years old.

JOHN DIBIASE (brother):

Grandma was a sweet and wonderful lady. She always had a smile on her face and would go out of her way to help people. Many times she would feed people who didn't have any money, or even help those out who didn't have enough money to pay the entire meal tab.

She also took care of Teddy and me like we were her own children. She would protect us and make sure that we had everything that we needed. In her eyes, her grandchildren could never do anything wrong.

Every day, my grandmother would sit at a table near the window of the restaurant and wait for me to get out of school. I would eat lunch at the café every day. In fact, Mike and I would eat most of our meals at the café. We spent many of our days there.

I loved watching my grandma cook and bake, especially when she made fresh cakes, pastries, pies, and cinnamon rolls. She made sure I always had my fill, which was probably why I was a husky kid. From birth until my high school years, I was a chubby butterball.

I helped out the best I could by washing dishes or bussing tables. But my favorite time was just watching and listening to the vast array of people who would come into the café.

JOHN DIBIASE:

Ted was seven years older than me. I remember both of us working in my grandma's truck stop. My grandmother was a hard worker and she
often had to clean up after me because I wasn't doing such a good job as the dishwasher. I also remember sitting on top of the roof of the restaurant with Teddy to watch the parades in town.

There was a jukebox in my grandmother's café. I enjoyed listening to music and I used to put my own marked quarters (so it wouldn't cost anything) in the slot to listen to the songs. I had many favorites, including anything by Johnny Cash. But my all-time favorite song was Roy Orbison's “Pretty Woman.” Today when I hear that song I'm reminded of that place, the people, and my grandma.

As I was just finishing up kindergarten, my mother fell in love with the person whom I consider my “true dad,” Mike DiBiase. “Iron” Mike was also a professional wrestler and they had met on the road.

Born on Christmas Eve, 1923, Mike was a first-generation Italian American. He was the last of three children born to his father's second wife, Christina. He grew up in Omaha in a traditional Italian, Roman Catholic family. Mike was a champion athlete, lettering in football, track, and wrestling. He was tough as nails.

“Iron” Mike DiBiase, my dad.

In 1942, he was Omaha Tech High School's King of Sports and was named Omaha's Outstanding High School Athlete. Dad's excellence on the football field earned him all-city and all-state honors, and he won the Nebraska state heavyweight championship twice.

After graduating high school, in the midst of World War II, Dad joined the navy. At the time he was the youngest chief petty officer. For part of his tour, he was stationed in Norman, Oklahoma. During that time, he won the
Oklahoma AAU heavyweight wrestling title two years in a row. Dad was later transferred to northern California, where he won the Far Western heavyweight title. Then in April of 1946, he won the AAU national heavyweight wrestling title in New York City.

When his enlistment ended, Dad enrolled at the University of Nebraska. It was there that he lettered four times in wrestling and three times in football. Upon graduation in 1950, he was courted by several professional football teams, including the Chicago Bears. The Bears were in dire need of a tough offense and a defensive lineman like my dad. Unfortunately for football, my dad pursued a career in professional wrestling.

TERRY FUNK:

Mike was one of the greatest athletes ever to come out of the state of Nebraska. He received more letters in track, football, and wrestling at the University of Nebraska than anyone else. He had a real understanding of the business and was a legitimate tough guy.

BOB GEIGEL:

Mike was a roughly 230-pound wrestling machine from Omaha. He played football and wrestled at the University of Nebraska. I was around Mike a lot. He was an excellent worker and always conducted himself as a professional. He never complained about anything.

After Mom and Dad married in October of 1959, we left Willcox for Amarillo. I had just started first grade. Although I missed my grandparents, I was really happy to be with my mother. And Mike loved me as his own, which made the move even better.

It's quite ironic—since my mom was born in Grand Island and Mike in Omaha, which are right next to each other—that they never met until they

were wrestling on the road. Even funnier is that as a kid, my dad delivered papers to her house—they even went to the same grade school.

My dad made sure that nobody ever took advantage of me. I remember my cousin Ray and I would always watch TV together, but if I had a better view he would hit me and push me off the couch to claim the spot. I would then run and tell my mother.

Once, when I was six, Ray pushed me off the couch as usual. This time, I ran to tell my new dad. “Teddy, don't let anybody take advantage of you like
that. Now you go back over there and smack him to make sure he never does that to you again.” Surprised by his comment, I just looked at him.

Then I marched right back into the living room and smacked Ray right across the face. My cousin started crying. After that, he never pushed me off the couch or hit me again. Dad had just given me my first lesson in defending myself.

Dad always told me not to be a bully and don't start trouble, but when somebody starts trouble with you, finish it. Make sure you win the fight so it doesn't happen again. He also told me his three basic rules that I still live by today and have passed on to my children: (1) Don't ever lie; (2) Don't ever cheat; and (3) Don't ever steal.

One hot Amarillo afternoon, I was playing catch with a couple of girls in the neighborhood. We were playing with a rubber ball. One of us missed the throw and the ball went bouncing into the yard next to us.

In the yard was this ferocious bulldog. Before any of us thought of the danger, one of the girls yelled, “I'll go get it.” She scaled the fence and proceeded to pick up the ball. The dog started barking up a storm, causing the little girl to freeze in her tracks. I guess sensing fear, the dog attacked the girl.

I quickly jumped over the fence and grabbed the dog by his two hind legs. With all my strength, I grabbed him and threw him straight over my head. The dog hit the ground and ran away whimpering.

I helped the little girl out of the fence and back to my yard. By then, some parents and other grown-ups had gathered around to help us. Unfortunately, the dog bit a pretty big piece of skin out of her right inner arm. Other than that, she was okay.

The incident became the highlight of my first-grade year in Amarillo. I was considered a hero for saving the little girl. It seemed like wherever I went, people would applaud me for being so heroic. My dad was very proud.

I grew up wanting to be a professional wrestler—just like my dad. Many of the wrestlers would come over to the house. I was in awe of them, especially Danny Plechas. He was my dad's tag-team partner and he would often come to visit and eat dinner with us.

Danny was one tough guy. During one of his matches, a big cowboy-looking fan wearing a brand-new pair of Levi's jeans jumped in the ring.
Maybe he had one too many beers, because the fan landed a blow to the back of Danny's neck. As the fan turned around to leave, Danny grabbed him by the seat of his pants, ripping the end right out of them!

Dad used to host card parties: poker, gin rummy, you name it. The boys would sit around drinking beer and telling stories, sometimes until the wee hours of the morning—guys like the Avenger (Art Nelson), Nick Roberts, Dory Funk Sr., and Bob Orton. One night, I recall my parents consoling a crying Nick. I had never seen a grown man cry so much. I later found out that Nick's wife had committed suicide.

JOHN DIBIASE:

I really liked it when the Avenger (Art Nelson) came to the house. He would often be a guest for dinner. He would wear a mask. I was taught by my dad at an early age to protect the business. And thus I was to never, ever tell anyone the true alias of the Avenger. One day, I slipped up and told some of my friends the initials of the name of the Avenger. I got in lots of trouble by my dad for that mishap.