By Dean Silverstone
 

He was a real rare bird, even for this business.   He NEVER broke kayfabe, even in the dressing room.  He was billed as having graduated from Oxford University and was from the Republic of Sudan, but, although extremely well versed and educated, I'm pretty sure he never attended high school and lived most of his life (when not on the road) in Dallas.
 
He always spoke with a British accent and was very popular with the audience.  He would enter a territory and live and mingle in the Black community where he stood out as  a celebrity.
 
He did not travel light.  He would always carry elegant dinner jackets, ring wear, sport coats, and Sudanese long dresses with him.  He toted them in a tall carry on bag he placed flat in the rear window space of the Cadillac's he used to drive.
 
One snowy December night, he was in the back seat with a midget (Pancho Lopez) and I was driving a 1973 big Oldsmobile Toronado with front wheel drive.  Paddy Ryan was in the front seat with me and a deer darted out in front of my car coming back from Omak, Washington.  My car skidded and did a 360 degree turn and two of the back seat windows broke.  After the dust settled, we couldn't find Pancho Lopez.  Ryan said he must have been projected through one of the broken windows so we all jumped out of the car looking for him on the road.  He wasn't there.  Then, we all heard a faint cry, "...hep me, hep me, hep me please."  It was Pancho Lopez.  He had been buried on the floor of the Toronado underneath Hussian's 50 pound luggage bag that slid off the rear window sill onto the floor.
 
Again, once in December, Hussian used to like to impersonate police officers.  He had a police jacket with a fake badge. He had a red light and siren for his car.  Coming back from Lewiston, Idaho, he spotted Lumberjack Luke's car ahead of him and he turned on his light and siren. He put on his cop outfit and walked up to Luke, shinning a flash light in Luke's window.  All Luke could see was the cop jacket; and then, boom, a real Idaho State Patrol car pulled up and arrested Hussian on the spot.  I had to turn back from Spokane and go bail him out of jail.
 
He never had a valid driver's license, because he couldn't pass the written test.
 
Yes, he was one unique individual; but I loved him, and we all made money.  (He was my regional heavyweight champion in 1973 until John Quinn beat him).
 
RIP Arman.  We had fun.