The story of Chris Von Erich, the brother 'The Iron Claw' left out
The film tells the story of a pro wrestling family that endured epic highs and gut-wrenching lows, but the youngest brother's story is curiously missing
There is perhaps no story in professional wrestling saturated with more sadness than the tale of the Von Erichs, one of the sport’s most famous families.
The film “The Iron Claw,” recently released in theaters, does a fine job depicting the rise and fall of the Von Erichs, but it left out a key part and perhaps the most tragic part of the story: Chris Von Erich.
Chris, the youngest of six brothers, was born on Sept. 30, 1969, in Dallas, Texas. His father, Fritz, (real name Jack Adkisson) ran the World Class Championship Wrestling promotion based in Dallas, running shows in the legendary Sportatorium. Before becoming a promoter, Fritz wrestled as a hated villain in the 1950s and ‘60s. A local football star in Texas, his dream of playing in the NFL was dashed but when he was invited to give wrestling a try by Canadian promoter Stu Hart, he decided to put on the tights and give it a whirl. He loved it and decided to take his sons along for the ride.
All five of his surviving sons (the oldest, Jack Jr., tragically died in 1959) followed in dad’s footsteps. Four of the Von Erichs, Kevin, David, Kerry and Mike, enjoyed varying levels of success in the ring but it was Chris who wanted to reach stardom the most but never truly got his chance. Standing 5-5 and listed at 175 pounds, but likely closer to 150, Chris was the runt of the Von Erich litter. But he had the biggest heart.
Chris, plagued by debilitating health problems, continued to forge ahead in his dream of becoming a wrestler in the late 1980s. The odds were stacked against him. He suffered from asthma and due to taking high doses of prednisone to battle the effects of asthma, Chris’ bones became brittle. He suffered severe injuries performing routine moves in the ring.
Mentally, he was depressed. Close to Mike, the fifth youngest Von Erich, Chris took his brother’s suicide in 1987 extremely hard. He started abusing drugs and it slowly spiraled out of control.
To honor his fallen brother and continue the family legacy, Chris made his pro debut on June 22, 1990. His short career consisted mostly of tag team matches, but Chris did get to tussle with a few rising stars that became legends in the WWE.
By 1990, WCCW had been purchased and absorbed by another wrestling promotion, becoming the USWA. Chris kicked off his career with a brief feud against Percy Pringle, who would soon retire as an in-ring competitor, sign with the WWE and manage The Undertaker as the ghoulish Paul Bearer. Chris teamed with older brother Kevin and friend “Gentleman” Chris Adams to battle Pringle and a raw but ascending fellow Texan with long blonde hair named Steve Austin.
Consumed with a burning desire to succeed, Chris simply didn’t have the size or athleticism like his gifted older brothers. That’s likely why Chris felt a special kinship to Mike who looked scrawny standing next to his hulking father and the statuesque physiques of Kevin, Kerry and David. However, Mike did achieve a level of stardom, earning Pro Wrestling Illustrated’s Rookie of the Year award in 1984 and Most Inspirational Wrestler of the Year honor in ‘85.
The Von Erich’s were beloved in Texas and anytime Chris hit the hot tag and jumped into the ring, fans erupted in “Go, Chris, GO!” chants, firing up the underdog. But in the ultra-physical world of pro wrestling, Chris could not escape injuries. In a match pitting Kevin and Kerry against Pringle and Matt Borne (later known as Doink the Clown in WWE), Chris was stationed outside the ring, cheering on his brothers. Playing up their despicable heel roles, Borne and Pringle attacked little brother, pounding his head against the ring apron. Likely concussed, Chris suffered a headache that raged for five days.
While his dreams were strong, Chris shouldn’t have been a wrestler in the first place. His small frame and health issues were a bad mix and it clearly held him back. The sad caveat to Chris’ story is he probably would have enjoyed a long, fruitful career in pro wrestling without having to damage his body in the ring. Growing up, Chris worked backstage at WCCW shows, doing camera work and other odd jobs. Who knows, maybe Chris could have found a niche as an announcer, producer, cameraman, booker — any of the myriad positions in wrestling that don’t require donning spandex and boots.
As a kid, however, Chris was involved in family story angles against The Fabulous Freebirds, sworn enemies from Badstreet, U.S.A, AKA Atlanta, and Gino Hernandez, a charming, cocky heel — the Latino version of Ric Flair — who died from cocaine intoxication in 1986. There’s no doubt, like his father a few decades earlier, Chris caught the wrestling bug. He heard the roar of the crowds, felt the adrenaline course through his veins every time he rushed into the ring to help his brothers. He was determined to carve his own path to glory.
But the setbacks were too difficult to bear. Dark thoughts started to creep into his mind.
On Sept. 12, 1991, the sound of a gunshot pierced the quiet evening air at the Von Erich farm in Edom, Texas. Chris Von Erich, less than three weeks shy of his 22nd birthday, placed 9mm pistol to his head and pulled the trigger.
Kevin and his mother, Doris, found Chris around 9 p.m. An ambulance was called to the property and Chris, still clinging to life, was rushed to the East Texas Medical Center. He died shortly after 10 p.m.
Based on toxicology reports, cocaine and valium were found in Chris’ system at time of death. He had been acting strange in the hours leading up to his suicide. Chris had approached Kevin in the middle of the night, asking for a VCR the elder brother had borrowed. Later on, Kevin had noticed Chris sitting alone at the top of a hill. He went to check on his little brother and Chris confided in Kevin that he was thinking about ending his life. He had recently broken his arm. His career and life weren’t going to plan. And he missed Mike.
Kevin begged Chris not to do anything to harm himself. Chris agreed. Kevin left to talk to Fritz about Chris’ odd behavior. A short time later Chris shot himself. He had left a suicide note about 100-150 yards from where his body was found.
No doubt the story of Chris Von Erich is laced with hardships, which explains why Sean Durkin, director of “The Iron Claw,” left out the youngest brother. Durkin felt the Von Erich story was already heartbreaking, why add another layer of anguish? Plus, the movie clocks in at about 2 hours, 10 minutes. Adding Chris’ segments would likely push the film to three hours.
Chris was included in the original script, but Durkin ultimately decided to cut him out.
“On a human level, cutting Chris was an impossible choice,” Durkin told the Los Angeles Times. “There was repetition to it, and it was one more tragedy the film couldn’t really withstand. I honestly don’t know if it would have gotten made.”
I certainly understand Durkin’s point, but it’s a shame Chris’ story wasn’t shared alongside his brothers.’ Nonetheless, the director did a great job bringing the story of the Von Erichs to the world and a new generation. Moviegoers will enjoy it, especially wrestling fans.
This insightful piece provides a lot of details on the Von Erich family that I do not think will be well known among long time pro wrestling fans. This includes those who were fans of World Class and watched it as it aired in the '80s and read about it in assorted publication back then and in the decade to follow.