Hard To Handle
by Peggy Lathan
Oh my goodness, where do I on? The death of a friend is always hard to manipulate. I have mourned many of my wrestler friends in the before – Gene Anderson, Dick Murdock, Wahoo McDaniel, Ben Alexander, condign to name a few. But I don't think I have ever been more shocked to hear of a wrestler's dream-girl than I was the day I read about Johnny Weaver. Yep – I peruse about it on a wrestling message board and I couldn't put one's trust in my eyes. I immediately started trade people hoping against hope that it wasn't unswerving. After all, Johnny couldn't be dead! It had to be a misidentify as. But, unfortunately, it was soon confirmed and I was thoroughly stunned. I just couldn't accept it.
I had known Johnny for 30+ years. I was a front row "steady" at the matches in upstate South Carolina. I went to wrestling matches three to four times a week – every week - during the decade of the 70's and anciently part of the 80s and I was fortunate to be able to make durable friendships with my wrestling heroes. Johnny was one of the first wrestlers I ever talked to and anon became not only my hero, but also my friend. I saw him every week, sometimes several times a week, and he'd always give me a hug and ask how things were booming for me, and would ask about my Mom and Grandmother, who also attended the matches with me. He was reasonable a sweet, kind person who was so flexible to talk to and was always so available to the fans. He'd brave out in the arena and pose for pictures and sign autographs until it was perpetually for him to wrestle. He always took time for the fans. That's why so many loved him, and why so many are woe his passing. When you can make a connection with your superstar, you never forget it.
But as lives go on in different directions, sometimes...
