Lillian Ellison, 84; world wrestling hall of fame’s first female inductee

Lillian Ellison, better known as the Fabulous Moolah, a longtime champion of professional wrestling and the first woman inducted into the World Wrestling Entertainment Hall of Fame, has died. She was 84.

Ellison died Friday at a hospital in Columbia, S.C., according to Dunbar Funeral Home in Columbia. The cause of death was not disclosed.

Nicknamed the Fabulous Moolah after saying she wrestled “for the money . . . for the moolah,” Ellison was born in 1923 and raised near Blythewood, S.C. She was the youngest of 13 children and the only girl. Her mother died when she was 8. Her father took the children to professional wrestling matches, and Lillian became hooked after watching then-women’s champion Mildred Burke.

According to a 2005 article in the Louisville, Ky., Courier-Journal, Ellison started her ring career as “Slave Girl Moolah” and worked as a valet to “Elephant Boy” (Bill Olivias), fixing his hair when it got mussed and occasionally jumping into the ring to come to his aid.

She claimed the women’s world championship at a Baltimore tournament in 1956, besting reigning champ Jennetta Collins on the way to a final-round triumph over Judy Grable, and held the crown for the next 28 years before being dethroned in 1984. She recaptured the title a year later, briefly lost it again, then won it back until 1987. She captured the title for the final time in 1999 when she was 76.

Her autobiography, “The Fabulous Moolah: First Goddess of the Squared Circle” written with Larry Platt, was published in 2003. She was featured in a 2005 documentary about the early days of women’s professional wrestling, “Lipstick & Dynamite,” directed by Ruth Leitman.

When she wasn’t wrestling, Ellison promoted matches and trained prospective grapplers -- both men and women -- at her school in Columbia.

The trim 5-foot-5 blond was married four times. She is survived by a daughter, Mary Austin; six grandchildren; and six great-grandchildren.

“She was famous, but I never looked at her that way,” Austin, 66, told The State newspaper in Columbia. “She was just Mom, someone that was always there for me. Someone I could turn to.”