Long read and very sad....
Owen Hart, a Calgary-born superstar of the WWF (now WWE), was killed in Kansas City in 1999 when he fell nearly 24 metres.
Paramedics tried in vain to save wrestler Owen Hart after he fell from the roof of the Kemper Arena in Kansas City during a failed stunt. Hart's wife sued the WWF and won an out-of-court settlement.
Writing this book has been an emotional experience as it forced me to relive the horror surrounding Owen's death on a daily basis. Having spent more than a year and a half painstakingly collecting information about what happened that fateful night in Kansas City, I'm satisfied I can accurately relay the events surrounding his fall. Days after laying him to rest I even went as far as to stand high atop Kemper Arena on the catwalk from which Owen took his final step. Based on all accounts, reports and research compiled by my lawyers, myself, police, witnesses and various other sources, and with the help of periodicals and videos, I have pieced together what I believe happened on the last day of Owen's life.
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Arriving at Kansas City International Airport shortly after 10:30 a.m. on Sunday, May 23, Owen was picked up by fan Treigh Lindstrom as was the drill whenever the WWF stormed through Missouri. Owen befriended fans in various cities. While many wrestlers scoffed at the notion of getting involved with their fans on a personal level, Owen quite enjoyed their company and treated them with respect.
After checking Owen into his hotel, the two arrived at Kemper Arena at lunchtime on a beautiful sunny day. Dubbed mid-America's premier venue for concerts, sporting events, touring shows and national conventions, the 19,500-seat facility was located in the heart of Kansas City's stockyards. It was there cattlemen from across the midwest used to gather at the Kansas City Stock Exchange building to buy and sell cattle for slaughter. It seemed an appropriate place for the WWF to frequent, given the way Vince McMahon had treated his beefy talent like chattel over the years.
Eating lunch at Kemper six hours before show time, the two were approached by Bobby Talbert, a rigger out of Orlando, Florida, hired by the WWF to coordinate the stunt that would lower Owen into the ring from the rafters. After introducing himself to Owen, Talbert boasted that he was the one who had overseen the exact same stunt several times with Sting, the wrestler from the rival World Championship Wrestling loop.
Alluding to the fact Vince McMahon was unhappy with the speed and fumbling that occurred with a somewhat similar drop-in entrance made by Owen in St. Louis six months earlier, Talbert said the addition of a quick-release snap shackle would make all the difference in the world. Once he was lowered to the canvas, Owen would simply have to tug lightly on a release cord that would disengage the rappelling line from his harness. Within a split second he would be free to move around the ring.
Having spent the morning rigging up the elaborate setup of racks and rope in the rafters of the arena with two city riggers and his assistant Matt Allmen, Talbert had allegedly already run two clean tests of the system. The first was done with a 250-pound sand bag, the second with Allmen strapped into the harness. It's unclear to this day whether these tests were run with the quick release snap shackle to be used with Owen or a locking carabiner, which is the industry's safety standard.
Either way, Talbert was very lucky that both descents were made cleanly and efficiently while he manually controlled the pressure applied to the nylon rappelling rope as it ran through the rescue rack.
Everything seemed fine to Talbert, so it was time for a dry run with Owen in the harness. Owen politely declined. "I've done it before, it's no big deal,' shrugged Owen, continuing to eat his lunch.
Extremely uncomfortable with the vertical drop and the heights involved, Owen simply did not want to subject himself to any more terrifying experiences than he absolutely had to. In one of his two previous high-level stunts he told me he almost fell, compounding his fears. He hated every minute of these stunts whether it was for rehearsal or the real thing. If at all possible, he wanted to limit the number of descents he'd have to endure.
Talbert sensed Owen wasn't being cocky about it -- he just seemed disinterested in rehearsing. Informed it was a different setup than he had ever used before, Owen was urged again by Talbert to familiarize himself with the equipment. As well, they had never worked together so it was in everybody's best interest for them to go over everything first.
Steve Taylor, the WWF's VP of Event Operations, got involved in the conversation, again asking Owen to try the entrance at least once before show time. After all, tonight was the night Owen's Blue Blazer character was to win the Intercontinental title over a colorful, pimp-like character named The Godfather.
Asked earlier in the week for his jacket measurements and informed he'd be making an aerial entrance, Owen had been assured by the WWF that top rigging experts from Los Angeles had been hired to ensure the stunt was done safely.
Still, it was no secret Owen did not want to do the stunt. He wondered aloud on several occasions why he couldn't just stick to wrestling and the interviews.
Two o'clock came and went and there was no sign of Owen. Extremely organized and generally quite prompt, Owen simply hoped his deliberate, extended absence would ensure he could opt out of the rehearsal. As time ticked away, several WWF officials began asking around for Owen, anxious to see how the stunt's speed would translate on television monitors.
Upon Owen's return to the arena at 3:30 p.m. he tried again to pass off rehearsal, saying, "Oh, I'll be all right." It didn't work.
Climbing to the rafters mere feet below the 85-foot-high roof, Owen white-knuckled his way along a steel grated catwalk that was ill-designed for pedestrians. High atop the southwest corner of the ring, he stood on the catwalk with Talbert, staring down at the large scoreboard below that he'd soon slide past on his way to the ring. As he assembled his harness, Talbert later claimed to have briefed Owen on the importance of not touching the quick release cord before landing in the ring.
"As long as you don't put your hands on this, nothing's going to happen," Talbert allegedly reassured him. "When you get to the floor, you grab it and give it a deliberate pull upwards so it gives me a visual cue to pull the rope back up."
Despite having difficulty in trying to keep his cape from interfering with his arm movement, the test went relatively well. However, upon landing, Owen forgot to pull the release cord, prompting several WWF officials to scream and yell at him as he moved around the ring with the rope still attached to him. Asked if he wanted to try it a second time, the answer was a quick, "No, I got it."
Like most wrestling pay-per-views, action in the ring began long before the show was broadcast to the masses. During one of the preliminary warm-up matches, Vince McMahon was mugged by a group of wrestlers dubbing themselves Corporate Ministry and led by Vince's son Shane McMahon. To play up the seriousness of the staged injury, the WWF had requested in advance the use of an ambulance and two paramedics for a segment showing McMahon being treated and transported out of the arena to the hospital.
As the early matches progressed, Owen sat in the bowels of the arena changing into his Blue Blazer singlet and electric blue tights. He laced up his patent blue and white wrestling boots and prepared for his match.
Some tried joking with him to ease his fears but Owen wasn't responding in his typically light-hearted way. He appeared gravely concerned. However, being the consummate professional he was, he hyped himself up for a backstage interview to be aired later in the show. It went well.
At 7 p.m. the Over the Edge pay-per-view show opened appropriately with the Undertaker, featured in an eerie, graveyard segment. He promised, "Tonight, darkness will seize the land, destroy all you hold dear ..."
The death and destruction theme would continue through the night.
Amidst a shower of pyrotechnics, wrestlers Kane and X-Pac entered the ring to defend their tag team championship belts against Sexual Chocolate and D'Lo Brown for the first match of the pay-per-view.
Noticeably quiet as he made final preparations, Owen paced back and forth, prompting longtime colleague Dustin Runnells, aka Goldust, to ask if he was nervous. Owen admitted he was before Runnells assured him, "It will be all right."
Owen placed his cape and mask into a duffle bag. To help conceal his identity for the walk through the crowd to the rafters, he put on prisonlike coveralls and wore a baseball cap pulled down over his face.
Owen proceeded down the hall to an elevator that took him from the basement of the arena to the main concourse. Walking briskly past hundreds of wrestling fans, he stared towards the ground of the gray brick concourse, hoping to remain anonymous as he headed for Section 221. He hurried up several flights of stairs to the last row of nosebleeds in the building, then climbed a rickety wooden ladder to the catwalk.
The catwalk obviously wasn't designed for heavy traffic. At first Owen had to negotiate slowly around a floor beam as well as a series of beams overhead. Holding tightly to the railings on either side of the narrow catwalk, he then took a right-hand turn and white-knuckled it 30 feet past a series of light standards that would fully illuminate the building upon his spectacular entrance. Careful not to look down at the sea of blue seats and patrons below, whose movement had a dizzying effect on Owen when he had peeked down in his few previous stunts, he made a left turn back towards the center of the arena. Now at the center point of the arena's catwalk system, he turned towards the massive scoreboard that hung well below him. He climbed under an electrical pipe, up a slight incline and over a structure beam. The final stretch was particularly tough to negotiate due to the more than 100 feet of black nylon rappelling rope placed all along the grated floor. It was the same rope Owen would soon attach himself to.
It was there, just south of the center of the arena, that he was greeted by Talbert at 7:10 P .M., half an hour before the stunt was to occur.
Despite meeting earlier in the day for the dry run, Talbert went over the stunt once more while Owen took off his coveralls and baseball cap. The only other men on the catwalk were city riggers James Williams and Jim Vinzant from Local 31 of the Teamsters. Earlier in the day they had assembled various span sets and bridles in the arena's ceiling as part of the rigging setup laid out by Talbert. During the show, their job was to simply monitor the stunt. Matt Allmen was positioned ringside.
The railings and floor surrounding them had been covered by black cloth to conceal them as they prepared for the entrance.
The second match of the night was a hardcore title fight showdown between Hardcore Holly and Al Snow.
Vinzant assisted preparations by shining a flashlight on Owen while Talbert helped him put on his rappelling harness. Featuring three straps across the front and plenty of reinforcement to prevent tearing of any sort, the black harness fit much like a sleeveless life jacket. It also had straps that wrapped around his legs to further stabilize him while being lowered.
With Owen securely fastened, Talbert then grabbed the end of the rope and attached the snap shackle device to the metal ring on the back of the harness. He pulled on the snap shackle device several times -- once almost lifting Owen off his feet to ensure it was properly secured. Owen then put on his silly looking blue, silver and red mask. Featuring holes cut out for his eyes, nose and mouth, the mask had laces in the back used to secure it in place.
With his movements somewhat limited in the confined space, Owen needed help from Talbert to put on his bright blue and red sequined cape.
The release cord, designed to quickly separate Owen from the rope upon ring entry, was then brought to the front of Owen's harness and secured on the upper right side of his chest using black gaff tape, similar to electrical tape. As designed, one quick tug on the cord would trigger the snap shackle and allow Owen free range in the ring.
It only took six pounds of pressure to rid himself of the rope and Talbert explained that Owen should pull it in a deliberate, upward fashion, cuing Talbert to pull the rope back up. It was the same cord Owen forgot to pull during rehearsal, drawing the chorus of shouts from frustrated WWF officials, angry at Owen's failure to execute the stunt fluidly.
Minutes from his cue, Owen apparently moved his arms out and away from his body several times to reposition his cape in an effort to try to conceal his harness. The awkward cape was heavy and had a tendency to choke him if not positioned properly.
The hardcore slugfest below had finally been won by Al Snow, eliciting a roar from what was said to be a crowd of 18,244 fans.
The lights were then dimmed -- the cue for Owen to steady himself for his descent. It was now 40 minutes into the show.
Talbert instructed Owen to climb over the four-foot hand railing and position himself on the outside of the scaffolding. Owen had trouble negotiating the maneuver, so Vinzant facilitated things by lifting Owen's cape. The city rigger then retreated to ensure the rope would not get snagged anywhere on the catwalk's floor when Owen was to begin his manual descent.
At first facing away from Talbert, Owen turned and held on to the railing, trying not to look down. Talbert checked the tension of the equipment by lowering Owen a few feet, at which point the he let go of the railing. Dangling with his shoulders parallel to the catwalk floor, Owen placed his hands on his harness and was ready to be lowered. He hung there for a few minutes. Everything seemed fine to Talbert.
Down in the ring, a referee was clearing debris from the hardcore match. On the Jumbotron was a 40-second profile of the Blue Blazer.
Perhaps being somewhat choked by the cumbersome cape, Owen extended his elbows out and away from his body in an effort to make a subtle adjustment. It was then the three riggers were horrified to hear the distinct sound of the snap shackle's release.
Talbert looked down immediately to see Owen plunging towards the ring, falling backwards and in a slight clockwise spiral before landing violently 78 feet below. Several fans heard him scream in terror all the way down.
For most who were glued to the video montage on the Jumbotron, the first they saw of the Blue Blazer live that night was the split second before he savagely met the top rope of the wrestling ring. Narrowly missing the metal post that supported the turnbuckle in the southwest corner of the ring, Owen's upper left side absorbed the violent impact of his plunge.
Shattering his left arm just above the elbow and causing massive internal injuries upon initial contact, Owen was flipped backwards by the highly strung cable. His 229-pound body caromed into the ring, where it sprang a foot off the canvas before settling in the corner.
Lying motionless on his back, with his feet pointing towards the center of the ring and his head mere feet from the apron, it took several seconds for his rubbery arms to rest at his side after bouncing off the spring-like canvas.
Copyright 2002 by Martha Hart and Eric Francis, reprinted with permission Key Porter Books Limited
