I first saw Henry Brown when I played high school football. We were playing San Diego High and Henry was their strong safety. That afternoon I think Henry was their entire defense. It seemed like he was in every play. He must of had 20 tackles,a couple of fumble recoveries,and an interception for good measure. Henry was a senior and I was just a sophomore,so I spent much of the afternoon watching Henry make his case to play on the County AllStar Team. We won the game 6 to Zero when one of their guys fumbled a punt on their 2 yard line. It took 4 plays to finally get it in there because Henry was determined to make us work for it.
As much as Henry was a tiger on the football field,he was gentle as a pup away from the gridiron. He belonged to The African/American High School Political Representatives. Lettered in Basesball and Basketball and received an Urban League Scholarship to play football at the Catholic school,San Diego University.
I went to school and played football at City College. Henry's brother, Charlie was the halfback on that team and that's how I met Henry. Charlie and Henry had different personalities. They didn't even look alike. Henry was taller and softspoken. Always had a wide smile and when he'd listen, he'd then purse his lips and stare at you. Henry always listened to what you had to say. Charlie,on the other hand,liked to clown around more and didn't take things to seriously.
I'd go out to Logan(black neighborhood)with them and play in some pick up football games at the rec center. Afterward we'd drink some beers at one of the local joints. They always had the best jazz and rhythm and blues on the jukeboxes in Logan Heights.
I hadn't seen Henry nor Charlie in a few years,but one night when I went to the Coliseum to catch the fights,who do I see on the program? "Downtown" Henry Brown in a 3 round amateur pre lim. Henry had taken up boxing. Well Henry's talent on the gridiron had rubbed off in the boxing ring. He was very polished,under control,and most of all Henry Brown could punch. He put away this kid a minute into the fight.
After the bout ,I met him outside. He was with his brother. "Where'd you get the name'Downtown?'"
"That wasn't my idea."
I never called him that. It was always Henry with me. Henry fought at the Coliseum 4 or 5 more times and then dissappeared. I didn't see him again until about ten years later. I had bumped into Charlie on the street one day. He was delivering the mail. "Hey Rog",he says,"They're starting up a semi pro league in town. You want to play for us?"
"Sure,why not?" Me,the Italian playing on a football team with all black guys. If the my friends from the Southwest Side of Chicago could see me now?
"Charlie,what do you guys call yourselves?"
"The Ghetto Mssengers."
Well I never had so much fun in my life playing football for the Ghetto Messengers. Always joking around,but on the field we were a tough bunch. Henry was our quarter
back and leader. What always got me though was that it was an 8 Man League. You usually passed more in a league like that,but we liked to run the ball between the tackles. With all the speed on that team,we'd run the ball. We had a lot of talent . Neal Petties had played for the Colts. Humphrey Covington was the "Up" back leading blocks for O.J. Simpson at USC. We had a lot of all league guys from highschool and players with college experience. The only team that gave us trouble was the San Diego State Aumni Team. Players who had been with Don Coryell. We played them 3 times losing 2,but all the games were decided in the last seconds.
After that I didn't see Henry until I decided to get my teaching credential 20 years later. Henry was a teacher at Juvenile Hall. I chose Henry as my mentor teacher. Henry had the"Improve Unit" It was the kids who had to be seperated from the others. I worked with Henry in that wing. Those kids could be pretty violent,but Henry had a calming effect on them. They didn't really learn much,but they were at ease around Henry. That was his gift. Whatever problems you had, you didn't worry about it much when you were with him. He was always singing that song"Don't Worry,Be Happy" After doing a semester with him,I handed him my Progress Report he had to turn in to the District. He looked at it and gave it back. "Here" he said,"You fill it out"
That was Henry. Making you feel at ease. Don't worry,be happy. That was most important. Well I had been teaching 20 years. When things would get tough,I would often think how Henry would deal with it. Henry wouldn't make it any bigger than what it was,and usually it was no big deal.
A few months ago I saw Henry at a stop light on Highland Avenue. We pulled over to the side. We were happy to see each other. He hadn't changed much. Still trim and in shape. I offered to pay for lunch,so we headed to a spot we used to frequent when we were at the Hall. "Let's go to the Muslim restaurant and get Red Snapper sanwiches?" Henry was all for it. We ate those sandwiches discussing the old times. But then I asked him what he was doing now. "Still working with those kids." Then he paused. "I got divorced"
"I'm sorry." I felt bad for him. Henry had married an Italian gal. I always thought they were going to hit it off. My mother would get a kick when Henry would come over. She liked to make spaghetti for him.Henry loved my mother's spaghetti.
I tried to switch gears. "Henry,why did you give up boxing?You were really good."
"Well,I got married young and my son was on the way. Had to start working."
"How is young Henry Brown doing? Going to be an athlete?"
"Young Henry is in Folsom"
I was shocked. "What happened?"
"Drugs. Hung around the wrong crowd. These kids today don't know how to have fun like we did. Gangs,drugs,gangbanging. After Young Henry went to jail Connie left."
"I feel terrible Henry"
"Don't worry about me. I'm retiring soon. Like to go fishing on the lakes. Bought a little boat."
We finished eating and got into our seperate cars . We promised to stay in touch. Henry smiled at me as he got in his car. "Don't worry,be happy"he said.
I didn't feel as bad as I did before. Henry still had that touch.
A few weeks ago I was at a lunch with some of my old football pals from our highschool. Lunch was at a place called Jakes. It was on the beach. We ate and drank with a beautifull view of the sun as it was beginning to set in the Pacific Ocean. The discussion is usually about "What is so and so up to these days?" We're going back and forth for several hours and the talk is getting a little stale. My paisan' Big Len DeSanti is sitting across from me and says,"Hey Rog,how 'bout one more?"
"No thanks Len. Three is my limit. Besides I got a long drive."
Just before I make my move, I remember Len had been a probation officer at Juvenile Hall with Henry Brown.
"Hey Len,guess who I saw last month? Henry Brown."
Len put his drink down. "Didn't you hear? Henry Brown died last week."
My mind went blank. It was like I was inside a vacuum. I think I mumbled"What happened?"
"Henry had prostate cancer. He'd been fighting it for yaers."
I stared out the window. The sun had sunk below the horizon. It's rays had pinked the sky.
"Hey Rog",Len says. "How did you wind up on that jig football team?"
"I don't know",I murmered.
The waitress came over to our table.
"You sure I can't buy you another drink?" asks Len. "I don't get to see you that often. Not many of us goombas left."
For some reason I remembered how Henry loved my mother's spaghetti.
"Why not?" I said. "Besides,what is there to worry about?"
The Ghetto Messenger
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BigJuicyHog
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