Good MoveChuck Norris discovered Detroit-born Howard Jackson...

Good Move

Chuck Norris discovered Detroit-born Howard Jackson with his feet up.

It was the early 1970s, and Jackson was a young Camp Pendleton Marine showing off his stuff at a karate exhibition in Long Beach.

“Chuck told me that if I would work with him he could make me a champion,” Jackson says.

Jackson says he wanted to, and Norris was as good as his word.

“Until I got out of the Marines in the early ‘70s, I would spend every weekend in Torrance working out at Chuck’s studio there,” Jackson says.

In 1974, just before being sidelined by a severe knee injury, Jackson says he was named the No. 1 lightweight in the world by Karate magazine, and he has a case-full of plaques and trophies to attest to his martial arts skills.

“There were a lot of magazine articles that said I had realized my dream of becoming the first black karate superstar, but that wasn’t my goal at all,” he says. “It was just to be as good as I could be at the sport that I loved.”

After knee surgery, he says he turned to boxing and became a welterweight at the same time that Norris began his screen career.

By the time the two met up again, in 1984, Norris needed someone to run interference.

“Chuck had become a big movie star, and he attracted a lot of attention,” Jackson says. “He asked me if I would come to work for him and run interference.

“I’m a little guy, who knows how to handle myself physically,” Jackson says, “but I think Chuck wanted me for the job because I’m diplomatic and polite.”

From 1984 until last month, Jackson was Norris’ sidekick, going everywhere Norris went in public, and working in a couple of Norris movies, including “Delta Force” and “Code of Silence.”

Then a geographical impossibility separated the two a few months ago.

“Chuck has purchased some property in Houston and wanted to spend a lot of time there,” Jackson says, “and I wanted to try to make a living doing martial arts in films, and wanted to stay in Los Angeles.” The parting was amicable, Jackson says.

While Jackson was getting his screen career up and running, he taught karate at a studio in Studio City where he’d been a part-time instructor for several years.

The decision, made a couple of months ago, probably changed his life.

The Studio City Karate School went belly up in November. “The people who ran it got into financial difficulty, and just closed the studio,” Jackson says. That left a lot of parents out a lot of money, and their kids without any instruction.

Jackson thought about the situation for a while, then followed his instincts--and decide to honor all the contracts of kids and adults from the studio at his new school, Howard Jackson Karate, 17815 Ventura Blvd. in Encino.

He plans to stress the martial arts along with character building. “The attention to moral issues was one of the things that originally drew me to the sport,” he says.

“He really doesn’t have to do this,” says parent Roz Wolfe, whose Brooke, 6, is one of Jackson’s youngest students. “He was in no way financially responsible for what the other studio did.”

Of course, Jackson hopes that, after he honors the contracts, the youngsters and adults will like his instruction enough to sign up with him.

Drive, He Said

Some of us never liked the old grease ball to begin with, so it’s hard to understand Elvis Worship, the Mania that Will Not Die.

Skeptics and pooh-poohers don’t bother Jay Tell, president of Americana Stamp & Coin Co. in Tarzana.

He’s got Elvis’ old driver’s license for sale, he says, and is enjoying the frenzy it’s stirring up.

He says the driver’s license has been authenticated by an expert, and that for $300 you can get a letter to that effect.

He thinks a collector will pay in the neighborhood of $30,000 for it. “All the kids who were growing up when Elvis was performing are now doctors and lawyers and captains of industry.”

Tell says he bought the license from the people who got it from the woman Elvis gave it to: A crystal ball gazer named Madam Star.

Tell won’t tell who the intermediaries were or how much he paid for the license.

A copy of the Tennessee license shows that it’s No. 571459, expiration date 1/8/77, and that Elvis was, at the time, 6-feet tall, 170 pounds, had blue eyes and black hair.

It also shows his date of birth as Jan. 8, 1935, and his address as 3764 Elvis Presley Blvd., Memphis, Graceland.

His signature is in ink.

Tell says that Elvis liked the fortune Madam Star told him so much that he paid her $15 fee, then gave her the license as sort of a memento-tip.

Tell, who has been in stamps, coins and autographs for almost 35 years, says if there were ever a memento that he wanted to keep for himself, this would be it.

“I remember seeing Elvis on ‘The Ed Sullivan Show,’ ” Tell says. “He was a big part of my childhood, of my growing up.”

But Tell says he’s learned, as a dealer, not to fall in love with the merchandise. “It’s deadly for a dealer to compete with his own clients.”

Go Figure

Does your accountant give discounts or have a petting zoo for the kiddies?

Times being what they are, you have a right to comparison shop.

For example, at Sidney Weiss Inc. in Woodland Hills, in addition to doing your taxes, there are weekly drawings for a color television set and for a case of 24 calzones or pizzas.

We’re still shopping around for the accountant who will guarantee a tax return.

Chatsworth Monopolized

Chatsworth is already on the map.

Now it’s going to be on the board.

Paul McKeehan, a local resident, has made up a Monopoly-like game that features participating businesses in that town.

He’s already done games for Pasadena, Malibu and Beverly Hills, so it’s about time he sat down to play with the Valley.

To get their names on the board, participating businesses pay $150 or more (depending on the piece of real estate chosen) and get to sell the game, as well as be in a directory that comes with the game package.

Don Siegel, project director, said the game will probably be ready for sale, by local merchants and through the chamber of commerce, later this spring.

Anyone who wants to become a part of the project, or who wants to plunk down his $19.95 for the first edition, can call the chamber, (818) 341-2428.

Overheard

“My 2-year-old son knows the names of all the Yuppie foods. He knows Biscotti.”

--Woman in Chatsworth

on phone to friend