On his website.
He apparently died today. RIP Evel.
I admire your restraint, Leaffan. With the “wits” at the Dope, one would expect a title like “Evel Knievel Attempts Final Leap To Heaven,” or “EK Leaps Pearly Gates, Crashes,” or something silly like that.
Evel was the man in the 70s. My lunchbox had him on it. Sorry to hear of his passing.
Sir Rhosis
Wow, he was just in the news a day or 2 ago, working out some lawsuit settlement with Kanye West over a video. Now he’s dead.
He’s to moved to manifest any wit, one would guess. The Knievel had the coolest name ever, anyhow, and the fact he died of “natural causes” is an achievement in it self, for a man like himself.
He finally jumped the shark.
My lunch box did too…well before starwars came out that is… 
Rest in Peace Man! You rocked then and you rock now…I mean who else could jump hundreds of cars, planes, trucks, trains break a thousand bones and still stand up and wave to the crowd…That’s a Man!
Ok 70’s hat off.
One of the greatest beneficiaries of improbable longevity ever. Any guardian angels of his were definitely working overtime.
Yeah, the timing is just eerie. I read that bit about his low opinion of Kanye West’s video (what did he call it, the “biggest piece of crap he’d ever seen”?) and realized that I can be dated as a child of the '70’s by my fragmentary memories of Watergate and one of Evel K’s leaps. Kind of ironic that these two events would be linked in my mind, given that so many people at the time probably wished they could’ve strapped Nixon onto a motorcycle and sent him over the chasm…
There was a kid at elementary school who had the Evel Knievel lunchbox, too. If owning the EK lunchbox gave him even one-millionth the cool quotient of the daredevil himself, it would’ve been enough to make him one of the coolest kids in the cafeteria.
Slight hijack: rank 1970’s lunchboxes in order of coolness:
**Planet of the Apes ** (because nothing is cooler than damn dirty apes surrounding a barechested Charlton Heston).
Evel Knievel
Star Wars
Emergency!
…[an intervening hundred or so]
Sonny & Cher (I’m guessing there was one, but feel oddly certain there must’ve been one)
I had a The Waltons lunch box, which just screamed ‘kick my ass’.
We’ll miss you Evel, even if you went crazy in your older years.
Yeah, I pretty much want to kick someone’s ass after seeing this.
Just kidding, says the man who was so proud of his red galoshes in first grade, that he only wore ONCE because he was teased about them. all the other kids had black galoshes first grade (1967 you see).
Stop that!
A coworker of mine had never heard of Evel Knievel. Imagine the look on his face when he saw the Caesar’s Palace clip on youtube! Then he saw the video from Snake River, and said something like
Godspeed, Mr. Knievel. Never again will multiple fractures seem so glamorous.
Your little plastic effigy and its Stunt Cycle playset will live on in my Mom’s attic forever.
Forget lunch boxes. Evel Knievel was one of the very few real people who had a pinball machine named for him back in the 1970s. Now there was an honour!
We all knew about Evel Knievel when we were kids. We jumped our bikes in the park, we did wheelies down the street, and we all wanted to see his stunt show when it came to town. We knew about the Caesar’s Palace jump disaster and anxiously awaited news of his jump over the Snake River Canyon, and were disappointed when he was unsuccessful. (Our parents were probably glad; if Evel Knievel couldn’t do it, we weren’t likely to try.)
Thanks for making my childhood fun, Evel. Hope you’re jumping a motorcycle over the Pearly Gates!
As a kid, I remember so many of Evel’s appearances on Wide World of Sports, usually being interviewed by Howard Cosell, another 70’s icon. The Snake River Canyon jump was one of the first pay-per-view events on TV. I remember seeing it on Wide World of Sports about a week later. Of course, knowing that Evel survived took a lot of tension out of viewing it.
Evel had a TON of things going on with him. Diabetes, pulmonary fibrosis, a liver transplant, and Hep C. And that’s after all the fractures. Amazing.
Couldn’t do it. Man, we all wanted to be Evel Knievel when I was a kid in the 70s. This guy was a real life Batman, or Spiderman, or Green Hornet. He was either courageous beyond belief, or incredibly stupid. We all went for the courageous angle.
We used to prop up pieces of plywood, over 2X4 supports, and pray we didn’t break anything. I think I may have cracked my left ankle in an attempt once. Which I hid from my parents for weeks till it healed.
I idolized the Evel-meister.
You and I must be from the same generation. We did the same thing, and we idolized him too. I look back and I’m amazed we survived–we tried to imitate Knievel’s stunts on bikes that were pre-BMX, with high centres of gravity, without springs and suspensions, and definitely without helmets. But damn! Didn’t we have fun?
Yes, I know it’s only fun until somebody loses an eye or breaks a neck, but cut us a little slack on this one, OK?
Yeah, me and my brother, inspired by Evel, built ramps with boards and cinderblocks. It is lucky my younger brother retains the ability to procreate after one of his rather high-pitched scream crashes!
Hey, all lunchbox fans–if someone hasn’t already done it, I’m going to go start a thread on the topic, to keep this one on the subject of Mr. Robert Craig Knievel’s memory.
Join me there in a few minutes. . . should be fun.
Sir Rhosis
I honestly thought he was already dead.
If I look around hard enough, I could probably find a glow-in-the-dark “#1” keychain. He was the man.