'Honest Abe' was on the cusp of a billion dollar industry

Griffith helped Jerry Lawler get his start in 1970 when he came to West Memphis to train in Griffith's facility.(Photo provided)

The WWE, for instance, which stands for World Wrestling ENTERTAINMENT, and Chairman of the Board Vince McMahon make no bones about the fact that their productions are more soap opera than athletics. The name, in fact, makes that clear. But pre-determined outcomes or not, pro wrestling is one industry which seems recession proof.

It wasn't always that way, however. There was a time when wrestlers had to travel from state to state in their own transportation to make ends meet. It was a time when million dollar salaries weren't even dreamed of much less made.

It was a time when Saturday morning tv wrestling and Monday night 'championship' wrestling at the, now defunct, Ellis Auditorium were as big in some circles as SEC football.

It was a time when names like Billy Wicks and Sputnik Monroe and the Von Brauners and Johnny Walker and Tojo Yamamoto were the wrestling establishment in the mid-south. The time was the late 50s and 60s.

One other name which could be seen on the posters and marquis of wrestling venues in Memphis and six other states was the name "Honest Abe Griffin." At least that was his name when he was wrestling 'dirty.'

When Harrisburg resident Aubrey Griffith was wrestling 'clean' he dropped the 'Honest' designation. Looking at the affable, easy smiling Griffith now, many people would be surprised to learn that he once was a part of the sweaty, noisy world of professional wrestling.

Griffith is shown in his competitive days with one of his trophies. (Photo provided)

"In school I could always wrestle pretty good," said Griffith. "In fact I could beat anyone in my school and I was little. It was just something I could do I guess."

After a stint in the Army, Griffith decided to see if he could make a go as a wrestler so he went to Memphis and saw promoter/wrestler Wicks about getting into the business.

"I don't guess you could say he gave us any real training," continued Griffith. "He worked us over and roughed us up for about six months I guess."

Deciding he had enough 'experience' from Wicks, Griffith went to Luxora and set up in a carnival there, challenging anyone who would enter the ring with him.

"I started to get a name for myself with that and it sort of took off from there," he said.

By the late 60s Griffith was wrestling regularly in eight states: Alabama, Arkansas, Illinois, Indiana, Florida, Kentucky, Mississippi and Tennessee.

But, not only was his grappling career blossoming, at this time he began promoting wrestling matches as well. The promoting he did, however, was nothing compared to the type McMahon and the WWE do today. In fact, Griffith had to use his own money so he was never able to get it to the scale he wanted.

But besides wrestling and promoting, one other thing Griffith was involved in was helping other prospective wrestlers get their start.

"I'd bring them into the ring with me at my place in West Memphis and "shoot" or spar with them," said Griffith. "That way I could tell if they were going to be good enough to handle it."

Probably the most famous person who turned out to be "good enough to handle it" was Jerry Lawler.

Lawler, a part time student at MSU and part time country music DJ in Memphis, came to the Avon Theatre in West Memphis where Griffith did much of his promoting.

"He wanted to wrestle so I worked with him for a couple of weeks and he seemed to be doing pretty good," Griffith said. "This was in 1970."

As enticement to have Griffith train him, Lawler struck a deal where he would give the promoter free radio ad time in exchange for the help.

"The crowds liked him so he was a good draw," said Griffith who told of a time Lawler nearly knocked himself out. "He saw other people going through the ring onto the ground and he tried it. I remember that well because it sounded like he busted his head open. It didn't knock him out, but he didn't know what was going on for a while. The thing about it is, you have to learn how to fall."

Learning to fall was just one of the things Griffith taught Lawler to do.

"I could fall off the top of a ring onto a concrete floor on my back and not even feel it," added Griffith.

Griffith and Lawler wrestled a good deal in Alabama and he was with Lawler when he turned 'dirty.'

Another prominent wrestler who was connected with Griffith was Sputnik Monroe. Known for the white streak which ran through his black hair, Monroe was the quintessential 'bad guy.' The white streak helped people to identify him with a skunk and he wrestled in just that way.

"He was my partner on a tag team for a while," said Griffith. "And I remember one time we were wrestling the Samoans. They couldn't even speak English. But they were big and rough and didn't know how to pull their punches. Sputnik was a little older than I was and he got to tagging me (to back into the ring). They were too rough for him and he just kept me going back in."

One thing Griffith made clear was that while the matches were set as to who would win and who would lose, there was still the possibility of injury.

"I got injured once with my knee," said Griffith. "It popped out of place and it still bothers me some. One of the worst injuries I had, though, was when I got stone bruises on my heels. I could hardly walk. The promoter who was putting the match on got mad at me because I told him I didn't think I was going to be able to wrestle."

Griffith said the promoter said he had seen him with cuts and bruises all over him and had even seen him wrestle with stitches and couldn't understand why some stone bruises could sideline him.

"Now I've got a hard head and I have wrestled with stitches on it," explained Griffith. "But I told him that I just couldn't walk. But one thing I'm proud of is that I was never knocked out. I was knocked goofy a couple of times, but never out."

One time he got knocked 'goofy' Griffith said he did a drop-kick on an opponent and landed on his head.

"When I got up the ring was going around so I tagged out real quick," he said. "And when my head cleared some and I got tagged back in I had to ask the ref if I was going "dirty" or "clean" and he told me "clean" this time."

More times than not, Griffith was smaller than his opponent at just 5-7 and weighing between 210 and 220.

He had his last match in Wynne in 1984.

While it's been over two decades since he crawled into the ring to compete, Griffith still tries to stay in shape. On his porch he has a bench press set up. And even though it has only 75 lbs on it, he said he will make up the difference in repetitions.

"I'll do 100 or so two or three times a day," he said.

Finally, the question had to be asked about what Griffith thought was the biggest difference between wrestling in his day and now.

"They're more like acrobats now," said Griffith. "They do a lot of really acrobatic stuff we never did."

In the ensuing 25 years, Griffith worked for Firestone and the Borden Milk Company and currently delivers food to the senior centers in Trumann, Marked Tree, Lepanto and Harrisburg.

"I pick the food up in Jonesboro and deliver it to them so that they can get it out to people," said the 77 year old Griffith.

The promoting he did in wrestling helps him now with another activity he has.... promoting gospel singing in churches and other venues in the area.

"I've done several shows for the Lions Club and Senior Centers and other places," said Griffith. "I love promoting these singings."

Today, while his'bad guy' alter ego Honest Abe Griffin may be a character of the past, Aubrey Griffith, is still going strong as a 'good guy' in Harrisburg and Poinsett County promoting for the Lord.