I want you to imagine a Venn diagram. And it's
a messy one. Okay, I'm picturing it. Right, so
in the first circle you have the glitter and
the hairspray of 1980s glam metal. Sure. In the
second circle you have the blood and broken glass
of underground death match wrestling. A very
different vibe. Exactly. And in the third circle,
this is the wild part, you have the funeral of
Charles Manson. Yeah, that is not a Venn diagram.
Those were three completely different planets
that should honestly never orbit each other.
You would definitely think so. But today, we
are taking a deep dive into the life of the one
man who somehow lived in the dead center of all
three of those circles. We're looking at Billy
Graham. And honestly, looking at the research
we have today, calling him eclectic feels like
a lazy word. Totally. He's basically the Forrest
Gump of the American underground. That is actually
a really perfect description, because just like
Gump, Graham didn't just witness these subcultures
from the sidelines, he actually shaped them.
I mean, we're talking about a musician, a political
activist, a horror historian, a wrestling manager,
and very controversially, a confidant to one
of history's most notorious figures. And that
really is our mission for this deep dive. We
aren't just here to list off a weird resume for
you. We want to figure out how one person operates
on the fringes in so many different worlds all
at the same time. Yeah, it brings up this massive
question about performance art versus reality.
Like, where does the bit end and the real person
begin? Especially when that bit involves, you
know, real staple guns, real broken bones, and
real funerals. Exactly. So let's rewind a bit.
We have to start where so many great underground
stories start. The early 1980s music scene in
Philadelphia. Billy Graham steps out as the front
man for this punk metal band called Saints in
Hell. Now, usually high school or garage bands
are just a footnote in a story like this. But
looking at the lineup here, this is actually
really significant. It is hugely significant
because standing right next to him in that band
were two guys named Tom Kafer and Eric Brittingham.
Now, those names might not ring a bell for you
immediately, unless you had a very specific hairstyle
in 1988 or owned a lot of leather pants. Right,
but they went on to form Cinderella. Cinderella?
Yes, we are talking multi -platinum, stadium
-filling Cinderella, the MTV Darlings. They were
one of the biggest rock bands in the world for
a hot minute. So Graham is essentially at ground
zero for the whole hair metal explosion. He is
in the band with these guys before they blow
up. Yeah, before the fame. But he doesn't take
that route. He doesn't go for the arenas and
the stadiums. The sources say he split off to
do something, well, something a lot weirder.
Much weirder. While his former bandmates were
getting famous on television, Graham pivoted
to the indie circuit. He released a solo project
called Ghost Dance Tribe. This was in 1991. Okay.
And what's really fascinating here is the liner
notes on that album. Yeah. Despite staying strictly
underground, he clearly commanded massive respect
in that scene. I saw that list in the research.
It's like a who's who of East Coast rock at the
time. Exactly. You have members of the Kix Tangier,
Britney Foxx. Right. These were guys who actually
had major record deals, who were touring the
country, and yet they all showed up to play on
Billy Graham's indie record. Which tells you
a lot. It does. It tells you that even if the
general public didn't know who he was, the musicians
absolutely did. It seems like he had this intense
gravitational pull, even if he wasn't the one
landing on the magazine covers. But while he's
doing the music thing, he's also deeply involved
in something that seems totally unrelated on
paper, political activism. Specifically, Native
American causes. Right. And this is really crucial
for understanding his psychology later on. He
wasn't just a donor. He wasn't just a guy who
signed a petition and moved on. No, he really
went all in. In November 1999, There was a major
demonstration at the White House. Graham brought
his drum group, the Sovereign Nation Singers,
to perform there, but he took it a major step
further. The notes here paint a really vivid
picture of this. It says he spent four days living
on the ellipse. Yes, in a teepee. A teepee. He
set up a traditional teepee adjacent to the White
House lawn, and he fasted for four solid days
inside it during the protest. That is a level
of commitment that goes way beyond just showing
up for a march with a sign. I mean, just imagine
the visual contrast for a second. The White House
in the background and this teepee in the foreground
with Billy Graham inside, fasting. It really
is the first major clue we get that Graham blurs
the line between his own life and his message.
He literally inhabited the protest. Wow. And
you really need to keep that image in mind, the
Native American heritage and that specific visual.
because he weaponizes it later when he enters
the world of professional wrestling. Right, because
he eventually adopts the moniker half -breed
Billy Graham. Exactly, that wasn't just some
costume he picked out of a Spirit Halloween catalog.
It was rooted in this very intense, very real
-life activism. He took something that was sacred
to him and turned it into a character trait for
the show. Before we get to the wrestling ring
though, we have to talk about the zombies. Of
course, the zombies. Because apparently the natural
bridge between political activism and pro -wrestling
is horror movies. Well, in Billy Graham's world,
yes, it absolutely is. And this wasn't just a
weekend hobby for him. He built a legitimate
career as a horror historian and an actor. And
again, just like with the music, he started at
the very bottom. I saw his first credit in the
research. It's for the 1986 cult classic Street
Trash, and his title was Animal Wrangler, which,
if you know anything about the movie Street Trash
is. Completely terrifying. I haven't seen it,
but it sounds intense. It's a very grimy, trauma
-style movie about homeless people melting into
colorful goo after drinking toxic liquor. Oh,
wow. Yeah. So I don't even want to know what
kind of animals he was wrangling on that set.
Rats, stray dogs. Whatever it was, he survived
the experience. But he didn't stay a wrangler.
He eventually moved in front of the camera. He's
playing zombies in a movie called Shadow, Dead
Riot. Right. And then there's this character
in a 2012 film called Revenge is her middle name.
I actually have the character description here
from the sources. Yeah. He played a cross -dressing
necrophiliac gravedigger. He certainly did not
tight cast himself as the romantic lead, that's
for sure. Clearly not. But here's the twist.
And this is what I really love about the story.
He's not just playing these B -movie grotesques.
He is actively analyzing them. Yes. He wrote
a documentary called One for the Fire, the legacy
of Night of the Living Dead. And we should clarify
this wasn't just some YouTube video essay or
a blog post. This was serious scholarship. It
really was. This documentary was actually included
on the 40th anniversary DVD release of the film.
and it won a Rondo Hatton Classic Horror Award.
For listeners who maybe don't spend their weekends
at horror conventions, can you contextualize
the Rondo? Is that a big deal in that world?
It's a huge deal. It's basically the Oscars for
the horror community. It's voted on by both fans
and industry pros. Oh, OK. So winning a Rondo
for Best Horror DVD Extra. established Graham
as a serious, recognized historian. It meant
he wasn't just a fanboy on the outside looking
in, he was a peer to the people who actually
made these legendary films. He understood the
genre from the inside out. So he has this real
intellectual credibility, and he actually directed
some work involving the wrestling legend Ox Baker
too, right? There is a documentary and a comedy
short called My S'morgasbord with Ox. Right,
and that is actually the perfect segue. Because
of the wrestling connection. Exactly. Ox Baker
was a wrestler, famous for his terrifying look,
this big mustache, shaved head, and his infamous
heart punch. Working with Ox likely opened the
door to Graham's most physically dangerous chapter,
combat zone wrestling or CZW. Okay, CZW. We really
need to set the stage here for you because this
is not the wrestling you see on Monday nights
on cable television. This is not Hulk Hogan posing
for the kids. No, not at all. This is ultra -violent
wrestling. It's often called death match wrestling.
We're talking barbed wire ropes instead of regular
ropes, light tubes, panes of glass, fire, thumb
tacks. It is an extremely niche genre. But the
fans who follow it are incredibly passionate.
And Graham enters this world around 2007, not
as a wrestler, but as a manager. But in this
specific genre, manager doesn't mean he just
stands outside the ring in a nice suit, shouting
instructions. Exactly. He created a stable, a
faction of wrestlers called Cult Fiction. And
the core concept of this group was pure nightmare
fuel. Graham himself described it as the four
horsemen meets the Manson family. Which is a
very heavy concept to bring to an audience and
he wasn't just the mouthpiece for the group.
The sources list some injuries here that oh they
genuinely make me wince just reading them. Let's
talk about Cage of Death 10. So the Cage of Death
is CZW's biggest event of the year. You can think
of it like their Super Bowl but with significantly
more blood. Okay. In 2008 Graham gets involved
in a match with his wrestler. deranged against
the owner of the company, a guy named DJ Hyde.
During the match, Hyde pulls out an electric
staple gun. Wait, an electric staple gun? Like
a tool from Home Depot? Yes. Exactly like that.
And he uses it on Graham. Where? Repeatedly.
To the body. Yeah. And to the face. To the face.
Why? I mean, I know the broader answer is entertainment,
but getting stapled in the face seems like a
really high price to pay just for a pop from
the crowd. It's all about validating the character.
In that world, if the manager is willing to bleed
and take that kind of punishment, the danger
feels entirely real to the audience. It sells
the illusion. Right. It transfers heat to the
wrestler he's managing. And Graham was an absolute
master at that kind of sacrifice. He understood
that if he took the bullet or the staple, in
this case, the fans would buy into the violence.
And the crazy part is he kept coming back. Two
years later at cage of death 12. He's up on top
of the cage Which is essentially a scaffold high
above the ring and he gets thrown off by a wrestler
named Devin Moore And we should be clear that
was not a safe landing into a foam pit or a crash
pad. No. He hit the canvas hard. He broke five
bones in his right foot and leg. That is insane
commitment to the bit. But here is the key insight
from the research that I think separates him
from just being a glorified stuntman. He was
actually winning awards for his talking. To me,
that's the most impressive part of his wrestling
run. In the CZW year end fan polls, Billy Graham
won best mic work for three years in a row, 2007,
2008 and 2009. That's pretty rare, isn't it,
for a non -wrestler to win best mic work? It
is extremely rare. Usually that award goes to
the top star, the charismatic champion, the guy
who is actively selling the tickets to the main
event. Right. So for a manager to win it three
consecutive times means he was undeniably the
most captivating person in the building. He could
quite literally talk people into paying the admission
price just to see him get beat up. He really
knew how to work a narrative. There's this story
in the sources about the hooded figure at Cage
of Death 11. Walk us through that, because that
sounds like straight up theater. It was master
class misdirection. Leading up to the event,
Graham had posted online everywhere that he was
in New York for an autograph signing. Billing
an alibi. Exactly. He apologized to the fans,
said, sorry, I can't be at Cage of Death this
year. I have this prior commitment. He completely
sold it. So absolutely nobody expects him to
show up. Zero expectation. Then during a match,
Two hooded figures jumped the guardrail and hit
the ring. One of them unmasks, and it's J .C.
Bayley. Now, Bayley was a wrestler who'd been
gone for two years due to some legal issues.
So that alone was a massive surprise. But then
the other figure unmasks. And it's Billy Graham.
And the crowd just goes wild. Total pandemonium.
They were completely fooled. And immediately
after unmasking, he orders Bailey to drop an
opponent head first onto solid cinder blocks.
It's storytelling through sheer brutality. It's
like Shakespeare with cinder blocks. But his
influence wasn't just contained inside the ring.
He actually managed to shut down a rival promotion
using nothing but his words, didn't he? I'm talking
about the Ian Rottenfjord. Yes. And this is where
kayfabe which is the wrestling term for maintaining
the illusion that everything is real breaks down
completely. Right. The real world bleed. He and
Rotten ran a promotion called IWA Mid -South.
He and Graham had a falling out behind the scenes.
And in 2008, Graham publicly alleged that Rotten
had physically threatened him. Now, usually in
the wrestling business, this leads to a match.
They book a fight, they sell tickets to it, and
they settle it in the ring while making money.
Right. That's the standard playbook. Yeah. But
Graham didn't want a pro wrestling match. And
instead of just calling the police or ignoring
it, Graham took it to the internet. He went on
the offensive. He went on podcasts. He hit the
wrestling message boards. And he publicly challenged
Ian Rotten to a legit kickboxing match for charity.
A shoot fight. No scripts. No predetermined winner.
Exactly. He completely called Rotten's bluff
in front of everyone. He basically said, if you
want to fight me, let's do it for real and let's
give all the ticket money to charity. And what
happened? Rotten vaulted. He just didn't accept
the challenge. The bad publicity from Graham's
crusade, because Graham was out there aggressively
exposing the business practices and the alleged
threats, was so intense that Rotten actually
announced he was closing his promotion. Wow.
It stayed totally dark for almost two years.
That really speaks to the sheer power of Billy
Graham's voice in that specific community. He
literally talked a wrestling promotion out of
business. Oh, and we should quickly mention he
had massive success elsewhere, too, managing
guys like brain damage and deranged to back to
back tournament wins in IWA, Mid -South and Deep
South, which is. very unique distinction for
a manager in indie wrestling. It showed he delivered
results wherever he went. Definitely. It shows
that his character wasn't just a passive act.
He carried that same intense energy into real
world conflicts and business dealings. But that
actually brings us to the elephant in the room.
You mentioned earlier that the name of his stable
was Cult Fiction and he compared it to the Manson
family. Yes. And this is where the story takes
its sharpest and honestly most difficult turn.
Right. Because for Billy Graham, the Charles
Manson connection wasn't just a spooky wrestling
gimmick. This is the part of our deep dive where
things get very complicated and we need to look
at exactly what the sources tell us about his
beliefs. It is undeniably the most controversial
aspect of his life. You see, Graham didn't just
use Manson as a scary reference point to get
a negative reaction from the crowd. He was a
very vocal, very real supporter. The sources
state that he publicly maintained that Charles
Manson was entirely innocent of the actual murders
at the Cielo Drive and Waverly Drive homes. Correct.
That is a very specific, very fringe belief system.
He fully bought into the idea that the helter
-skelter motive, the race war theory, was entirely
a prosecution construct. He argued that the prosecution
essentially invented that narrative to cover
up other criminal activities happening in Los
Angeles at the time. Things like drug burns and
copycat crimes. Yes. He fundamentally believed
Manson was framed as a patsy for those specific
murders. And he wasn't just posting these theories
anonymously on forums. He was intimately involved
with the actual Manson circle in real life. Right.
The research mentions a documentary. Yes. A film
called Manson's Bloodlines. It was a documentary
focused on Manson's grandson, Jason Freeman.
Graham worked on the production of that film.
So he was deeply inside that circle, talking
to the family members and actively advocating
for them. And this wasn't just a passing phase
for him. This culminated quite recently in 2017
and 2018. Right. When Charles Manson died, Graham
was there in March 2018 at the actual funeral
in California. And he wasn't just sitting quietly
in the back row. No. According to the records,
Billy Graham stood up and delivered a eulogy,
and then he served as a pallbearer. I really
just want to pause on that image for a second
so you can fully visualize this. You have a guy
who spent years playing this violent cult leader
character in a wrestling ring, getting stapled,
getting thrown off steel cages, cutting these
intense promos about violence to entertain paying
fans, and now he is physically carrying the casket
of the man he modeled that entire character after.
It creates this feedback loop that is almost
impossible to untangle. The performance art,
the half -breed character in CZW, clearly fed
off the Manson mythos. But then the real person,
Billy Graham, fully inserts himself into the
actual real -life history of the Manson family.
It really forces you to ask the question, was
the wrestling character just an act or was it
a rehearsal for his real life? That really is
the central question of his whole biography.
In wrestling, there's an old saying that the
best characters are just the real person with
the volume turned up to 11. Right. But Billy
Graham seemed to live his entire life at volume
11 constantly. Whether he was fasting in that
teepee in Washington, or deeply analyzing zombie
movies for a DVD extra, or publicly defending
Charles Manson, he was fully committed to his
own reality, whatever that happened to be at
the moment. It's a level of underground fame
that I honestly don't think exists much anymore.
I completely agree. Graham represents a very
specific, almost bygone era of American subculture.
If you were the Philadelphia punk scene in the
80s, he was a total legend. If you were deep
into horror fandom in the 2000s, he was a respected
scholar. If you liked ultra violent death match
wrestling, he was an absolute icon. But if you
walked right past him in a grocery store, you
would have absolutely no idea who he was. None.
He was an invisible celebrity. He proved that
you can live a life of incredibly high drama
and deep historical significance within these
niches without ever once touching the mainstream
spotlight. He was an underground Renaissance
man in the truest sense of the word. It really
challenges your whole idea of what a public figure
actually is. You can be a hero or a terrifying
villain to thousands of specific people and remain
a total ghost to everyone else on the planet.
And it seems like he navigated those vastly different
worlds completely seamlessly. And perhaps that's
exactly how he wanted it to be. Operating strictly
on the fringes allows for a certain kind of freedom
you just don't get when you're in the mainstream
spotlight. You can be the zombie actor, the political
activist, and the wrestling manager all at once.
And the pallbearer. And the pallbearer. So as
we wrap this up, what is the ultimate takeaway
here? We've gone from Cinderella to Charles Manson.
It's a lot of ground to process. I think the
main takeaway is really about the sheer power
of conviction. You might find his beliefs regarding
Manson completely abhorrent. You might find deathmatch
wrestling utterly repulsive. Sure. But... You
cannot deny that Billy Graham lived his life
completely without compromise. He built a world
where he can be the meticulous historian, the
violent villain, the dedicated activist, and
the loyal friend all at the exact same time.
He absolutely refused to fit into any single,
easily defined box. It challenges the way we
look at characters in entertainment, too. We
love the wrestling villain because we know it's
fake. It's a safe way to experience danger. But
when the villain steps off the screen, and actually
befriends the real life monster, it completely
changes how we view the performance. It makes
the performance feel dangerous again. It removes
that safety net of fiction. And honestly, maybe
that's exactly what true performance art is supposed
to do. Well, that was certainly a trip into the
deep end today. I don't think I'll ever look
at a wrestling manager or a horror movie extra,
for that matter, quite the same way ever again.
It definitely adds a massive layer of mystery
to things. You really never know who that guy
standing in the background truly is. Thanks for
joining us for this deep dive. We want to leave
you with something to think about. Where is the
line between art and reality for you? When a
performer's extreme art perfectly mirrors their
extreme real -life beliefs, does the performance
stop being an act entirely? Let us know what
you think. We'll catch you next time. Stay curious.