Evel Knievel, who says he is going to jump the Grand Canyon on a motorcycle next Labor Day, is having a glass of orange juice with John Herring, a songwriter, in the coffee shop of the Beverly Wilshire in Beverly Hills at 3 a.m. Herring, who has composed such hits as What Have I Got of My Own? and What Do You Do with an Old, Old Song? has agreed to write a song about Evel Knievel—a name, by the way, that rhymes, being pronounced Evil Kahneevil. Herring tells Knievel he shouldn't publicize their relationship. "It's more admirable that someone was inspired by your jump and went and wrote the song," he says.
In fact, someone was inspired—another songwriter named Arlin Harmon. Herring has already heard Harmon's lyrics a couple of times, but Knievel, who is deeply affected by them, insists on reciting them once more:
"I want to tell you a story about a fella I know
That can make your hands sweat, your blood run cold....
He stands tall and straight, looks like a man you'd want to kiss.
To see him flirt with death is something you can't afford to miss.
Because he's evil. Because he's Evel Knievel.
He's going to jump the Grand Canyon in '68.
Thousands of people will be there for that long-awaited date.
When he sits on that ramp and his engines start to roar,
He's going to know how a hawk feels before he starts to soar.
It's 3,000 feet to the bottom of that gorge.
His life will be hanging from a small ripcord.
And whether or not he heeds the devil's longing call,
Everyone will know that Evel Knievel's the greatest of them all."
"Y'don't want to put him in a Big Bad John bag," Herring says. "Y'got to bring it up to a higher plane of thought where everybody can feel it, y'dig? He could be in business. He's legitimate. What's he want to jump that thing for? Some say he wants to make a lot of money. The more sensitive say he's looking for something. He says, 'Shove that noise. I'm going to jump this scooter.' Y'got to get closer to an elevated message, like:
"When the roar of thunder fills the air,
And your heart begins to pound,
When 10,000 people rise to their feet [y' understand?],
Then you'll know he's leaving the ground [or Evel Knievel's in town].
"You give the effects. What you taste, hear, feel—dig?
"No use to worry about your tomato.
He didn't come to town for tomatoes.
"He's seeking something else. You got to give it a broad philosophical base. I never wrote a song that didn't make money. I never will."
Why is Knievel jumping the Canyon?
"To get to the other side," he says.
If it can be said that anyone has the background to jump the Grand Canyon on a motorcycle, it is Evel Knievel. For the past two years he has earned his living jumping a motorcycle from one ramp to another, and he claims to have made $100,000 in 1967. "You might say I have a pretty comfortable living," he says, "but it's pretty uncomfortable."
Among other things, he has cleared 16 cars parked side by side, and a crate containing 50 live rattlesnakes, with two mountain lions staked at the near end. Originally the lions were to be situated at both ends, but their owner was afraid Knievel would fall short and kill one of them. As it happened, he did not jump far enough. "I took the end right out of the box," he says. "A couple of snakes wiggled free. I hit the dirt and sprained my ankle. I don't jump rattlesnakes no more."