Gene LeBell

By Jan Alan Henderson 

I’ve been fascinated by movie stunts since I saw my first movie serial in 1957 at the Oriental Theater on Sunset Boulevard in Hollywood.  The fights, the car gags, the leaps, guys swinging across the room on chandeliers, and generally smashing everything in their wake, was just too appealing.  Every Saturday we would file in to the Oriental for hours of action packed screen thrills for the modest sum of a quarter.

On the way, home all us kids would try to emulate the fights, chokeholds, leaps, and the mayhem we had just seen on the screen.  Needless to say there were plenty of bumps, bruises, cuts and scratches to be nursed by our exasperated parents.  This was followed by a stern lecture on how we could have wound up in the Emergency Room at great expense to our folks.  (Once I attempted a roof jump only to be knocked cold, and woke up with some leering weirdo in my face asking if I was all right.)  We soon realized that the stunts were better left to the professionals.

At the same time, we were all big Superman fans, and our generation’s Man of Steel was George Reeves.  While we never attempted to fly (although we did try the wire harness bit. It failed.), we still enjoyed watching our favorites, people like David Sharpe, Tom Steel, Dale Van Sickel, and Eddie Parker.

In June of 1959, our favorite hero, George Reeves, died under a cloud of suspicion, and somehow childhood ended.  We all went on to different places and lives, and grew up (or so the rumor goes).  Some of us went into the picture business, others followed more stable pursuits, and I for one became a musician and then a writer.

Over the years, I collected clippings on the Reeves case as a casual hobby, and read many pieces on George, including articles on his friend and trainer Gene Le Bell.  Gene has always maintained that George’s demise was a result of foul play at the hands of his then-girlfriend Lenore Lemmon.  His loyalty to George over the years is unflagging, and he expresses his opinion whenever the subject is brought up, whether in public or in private.

To Gene, George was a father figure, and the man who showed Gene the ropes in Hollywood.  George wanted Gene to go into acting, and had his untimely death not interfered, Gene might have discontinued his career as a stuntman.  Be that as it may, Gene did end up acting as well as carrying on his flourishing stunt career, not only with fights but with car and motorcycle chases.

Gene grew up in boxing and wrestling gyms, with his mother being one of the first women fight promoters in the history of sports.  He is a master martial artist and the author of many books (his autobiography The Godfather of Grappling is a fantastic read), and a stuntman extraordinaire.  He has refereed both pro boxing and wrestling, announced wrestling on television for fifteen years, and worked with all the greats in Hollywood, past, present, and future.

I first had contact with Gene through his writing partner Bob Calhoun, whom I helped with a project in August of 2006.  Originally I only wanted to get a quote from him, but happily this encounter gleaned a full interview, most of which was used in Speeding Bullet, the Second Edition.

Gene’s unyielding fidelity to his mentor, George Reeves, is more impressive than words can express.  For this and all the other aforementioned activities, it is with great pleasure that I induct Gene Le Bell into the George Reeves Hall of Fame.

Gene has always said “Everyone you meet changes your life.”  So thanks, Gene, for changing all of ours.

God bless!