Classic American West Coast Boxing

[kikibalt]

My wife, pregnant with James and our daughter Linda with then boyfriend Mike,
taking in a Jr. GG show at Resurrection A.C, East Los...1974

[Randyman]

Speaking of the Randyman . . .

Working so many hours these days has kept me away from posting on this board, however, thanks to technology, my cell phone has internet access and although I don't use it to contribute posts, it allows me to keep up on the action here. During the day, I pull the phone out of my pocket, between shots, and check out what Frank, Dagos, Pug, Bennie, Scar, Ray and Randy have to say. I feel bad I can't join in, but, when I get home sometimes I can get on the computor and put in my 2 cents worth.

Reading Randy's blog always takes me back to the days of Mel Epstein, the Main St. Gym and the charactors we were around at the time. When Randy reminded me of a dinner we had with Mel Epstein, 32-years-ago, it put in focus how things were back then, and what Epstein thought of Randy. I had given Mel fits. Alcohol and drugs weren't my problem, it was women, I loved 'em and when I mixed in a little booze and mota, well, it was off to the races. At age 24, after six pro years, I was finished. It was about this time I would stay in touch with Epstein, who lived alone and never drove a car. On holidays, such as Christmas & Thanksgiving, he'd often spend the day with myself and family, or my girlfriend's family. He was a charactor, and such a gentleman.

Mel became excited over a new young fighter he had hopes of developing into a top contender, and he would speak highly of this kid, Randy. When Mel would discuss his future contender, he'd always take a dig at me, as he did Mike Nixon to me when Mike would defy his rules. "This kid Randy has some real talent, and he doesn't show up at the gym with red eyes after one of those saturday night specials, like somebody I used to know". I would meet Randy, and share Mel's opinion of his new prospect. Good looking kid, looks you in the eyes, has all the right qualities of charactor that we know today are the foundation of a great fighter. The same qualities that make for a great man. My only worry for Randy was that he wouldn't let Mel run him off with his constant nagging. With all respect to Mel Epstein, whom I will put on next years ballot for WBHOF induction in the expanded catagory, along with Frank Baltazar's name, Mel could really ruin a good time. Mel really had a way of breaking up a good time, kinda like finding a turd in the bottom of a punch bowl. But Mel Epstein was a great guy, a kind man who never made money off his fighters, and was always "dipping into his cash register" to see his fighters ate right, or had the right equipment.

I'll stop here, I'm rambling. Just want to welcome Randy, once again, he's one of us!


-Rick

Rick, I am laughing out loud right now because you are so right about Mel. I can't count how many times we (He) walked out of a restaurant if the meat, eggs or whatever it was he ordered wasn't done to his exact request. I would almost beg him so sit down but no, off he went and I had no choice but to follow him. Red faced and embarressed i would just shrug at the waitresses, who usually had no as to what just happened. Sound familiar? Still he was quite a guy.

You're right too about dipping into his own cash registar. He paid for most of my equipment back then. The only thing he would get pissed off at me for was my car, it was always breaking down. One time, I had scheduled fight at the Olympic, we were taking my care, I was on empty. Mel lived near rampart & 3rd. somehow I made it to his house, to the Olympic, back to Mel's and then back home. talk about an angel watching over me!

Rick, thanks again for the kind words.
Randy

Randy, I remember Mel's place in the Rampart district, on LaFayette Park place between 3rd and 6th St. He moved to that place in late '71, after leaving his Wilshire Blvd. Apt. "The Bryson", which at the time was owned by actor Fred MacMurray. Mel's original apartment at the Bryson had made service and was once quite a well known Wilshire area Hotel. Dempsey owned a place close by during his reign as world champ, during the years he lived in L.A. Dempsey's place, known as "The Barbara", was located on the N/W corner of 6th & Bonnie Brae. In each of the suites, Dempsey had a "Baby Grand", and whenever Dempsey's manager became smitten on a woman, he'd give the woman one of the pianos, which really frosted Dempsey's actress wife, Estelle Taylor, who hated Kerns with a passion. Today, the lot is vacant, and years back when Mel pointed the building out to me, it was nothing more than a drug den. Today the neighborhood is one of the most dangerous in L.A. The MS13 and 18th St. gangs control the area, the most corrupt department of the very corrupt LAPD does it's thing in that neighborhood. Today, across MacArthur Park on Park Pl. is the old ELKS Bldg., now knoiwn as the "Park Plaza Hotel" is vacant, being refurbished, a giant monolithic bldg of over 100 years old. It was once a place where George PArnassus had his office, and where Suey Welch resided, as well as Mike Mazurki's restaurant in the ELK's. This is where I once trained, side-by-side with Olivares, Arguello, Napoles, Chacon, Hafey, Crawford, Hedge Lewis, Pimentel, Castillo, Herrera, Gil King and so many more. Today, all the old guys are gone, and many of the younger men of that day are gone too. Last week I went into the building while filming a TV show in the park across the street. It was kinda haunted, but Hell, it felt that way to me in 1971, most of those old guys I'd see there, had a ghost like quality to them. Legends, legends who would always exist in the history of boxing. Very strange memories.

More rambling memories, just writing them down, no editing here, just thoughts.

-Rick

If that's rambling we should all be such good ramblers. Interesting stuff. regarding the MacArthur area, it has changed beyond belief. Several years ago my cousin, a Viet Nam vet that returned home with drug problems and paranoia and a host of other mental problems ended up homeless and living in the park. He approached a car one day to either sell or buy drugs and was shot point blank in the face. On top of that his body was lost for over a month and was located somewhere in Compton. my aunt and uncle were beyond grief. So that's what I think of now when I here of MacArthur Park. Nothing stays the same.......now look who's rambling...

Randy

[kikibalt]

I wish I could ramble like you guys, then I could tell you some stories from the Olympic, c..1950's

[Randyman]

"They have enough toys."
"The school really came thriugh."
At the time I was working at CETYs coaching American football.
"We have enough toys to fill your van."said Pico.
His real name was Federico,but everyone called him Pico. When he fought at the Auditorium his nickname was "Kid Estudiante".He didn't like that nickname,but Huizar stuck him with it because he went to school.Pico knew the "aficianados" didn't like that name either because studying readin',writin' and arithmetic didn't mix with prize fightin'.But Pico was also my star defensive player on the football team. He was my free safety.
"Well ",I said. I'll pick you here at school in the morning."

The next morning Pico was in the parking lot with about a dozen big black plastic bags filled with toys. We were going to take the toys to La Gloria Orphanage. The Orhanage is just off the old road that goes to Rosarito. It's on top of a hill looking down on Rosarito Beach. When we got there ,I saw that the dirt parking lot was pretty full. I parked on the street.I noticed a couple of the cars had "Lions Club Tijuana" on the license plate holders. The Orphanage was painted white. There was an arch at the entrance that read"La Gloria." Below the arch was a statue of the Virgin of Guadalupe. Beside the entrance was a big oak tree. You could hear the birds chirping ,but could not see them.

"Pico go inside and get someone to help uload this stuff."
After a few minutes Pico came back with 5 or 6 little kids. A few moents later more little kids came out. We had to walk through the kitchen to get to the dorms. Inside the kitchen I noticed that everything was stainless steel.The stoves,the side by side refrigerator,the freezer and all the rest of the mixers and utensils. The tile floor was emaculate. I could smell PineSol.Two women were inside. They looked Indian. They were dark and squatty. Both women wore their hair in braids. One women was stirring something in a big pot. The other reached inside a cupboard and grabbed a box of cereal. When she did this another box fell on the floor.
"Too much senor,"she said. We have too many boxes."

I looked out to the courtyard and saw a tall man walking towards us. His hair was graying and he wore glasses. It was Father Esteban who ran La Gloria.Me and Pico met him in the middle of the court yard.
"Buenos dias Rogelio. Como estas?"
We gave each other a good abrazo. I introduced Father Esteban to Pico.
"Rogelio,still beating the gringo teams?," he laughed
"We're doing well so far. We brought toys."
"That's great."
Pico was standing there not paying attention to us,but looking around.
"This is Pico's first time here."
Pico was still absorbed looking the place over.
"Yes", Pico said. "i've wanted to come here and help."
"Rogelio,"said the Padre. "When are you going to retire? Your studio in the back is ready. There you can paint in peace."
"And I can play with the kids everyday."
"Why do you think I'm offering it to you?"
We both laughed.
"I've got to be going", said the Priest. "I see the milkman is here."
"Before you go,say a prayer for me tonight. We have a tough game next week. It's against the Red Devils."
"I always pray for you and the team every night."

Me and Pico walked inside the dorms. Not many kids. They were in school. The Orphanage bus takes the kids to school during the week and picks them up. Inside the dorms toys were scattered around the floor. Some of the dolls had their arms and legs pulled off. I saw a toy truck missing its wheels. Pico asked me what the building was on the far end of the courtyard.
"That's the nursery and a hospital."
I took him over there.

Inside there was a little kid in a high chair. Pico went over to him. I saw the doctor.
"What's up Doc?"
He was taking a kid's temperature.
"Why Rogelio. Still a cartoon lover?"
We always said this to each other when I saw him.
"Things got busy last night here. A man in a pick up truck came and dropped off his 7 kids. Said his wife died and couldn't take care of them. They belong to us now."
"How old are they?"
"The oldest is nine."

I looked for Pico. It was time to get going. Pico was still beside the little kid in the high chair. The little kid was holding on to Pico's finger. Pico couldn't pull his finger away. Finally after gently and firmly pulling,Pico was free from the little kid's grasp. A nurse came by and grabbed the little kid and put him in her arms. I saw the doctor checking the cast on a girl's leg. As we walked to the van,I looked at Pico.. His head was down. He'd been crying.

When we got to the van I saw about ten kids inside. One little girl looked at me with wide eyes.
"Papi. Voy contigo."
"No, please.I'm not your father."
I didn't want to speak English.
"Eres mi Papi. Te Quiero Papi."
No.no.no. Please you can't go. Please."
I started to sweat.
"Por favor",the little girl begged.
After some time the kids went away. As we drove back to the school we didn't say anything.
"Pico. What's it going to be? Fightin' or football."
"You better take me to the CREA. Nacho has me fighting next week. Besides I need to spar."

We got to the CREA. Pico opened the door. "Pico. You OK?"
"Yeah I'm fine now. I just need to work with someone."
Before I started up the engine,Pico turned around.
"You were right," he said "Those kids have enough toys."

That was a great story. An observation if I may. Roger you are a man with a big heart and it comes thorough in the things that you write. I'm glad I met you. By the way, Huizar is my wife's maiden name.

[kikibalt]

[Randyman]

I wish I could ramble like you guys, then I could tell you some stories from the Olympic, c..1950's

I'd like to hear them Frank!

[kikibalt]

A soldier inspecting zoot suits in Washington D.C. in 1942.

[Randyman]

One of my favorite fighters. You think he could have beat LaMotta?

[kikibalt]

[kikibalt]

One of my favorite fighters. You think he could have beat LaMotta?

Don't know, but I know that it would have been a wild fight, two crazy dude...

[kikibalt]

[Randyman]

A soldier inspecting zoot suits in Washington D.C. in 1942.

Frank, my father was a Zootsuiter, from Maravilla. They called him Andy de Mara. For years after he passed away I would run into old timers from Maravilla and they would always remember him. The same with my uncles on both sides of the family. my mother was from Boyle Heights. When they all got together, especially when we were all camping, and even more so when they were drinking, the Pachuco slang came out full board. It was fun to listen to them. Even more fun to imitate.

[Randyman]

Frank, they say "a picture is worth a thousand words". This is how you tell boxing's story! Where do you get this stuff?
Randy

[kikibalt]

diego's wife holding the pistols,her sister holding the shotgun, diego's son holding the chicken standing in a cornfield in Michoacan, Mex.

[kikibalt]

Randy, did you see this pic. I posted on page 237?


The Vato's from El Hoyo Simons, old buddys of mine,
David and Albert....1950

[kikibalt]

East Los Angeles (often shortened to East L.A. or East Los or in Spanish El Este de Los Ángeles) is an unincorporated area in Los Angeles County, California, United States. The community is bounded by the Boyle Heights neighborhood of the city of Los Angeles to the west, the unincorporated area of City Terrace to the northwest, the city of Monterey Park to the northeast, the city of Montebello to the east, and the city of Commerce to the south. It forms part of the East Los Angeles region. The unincorporated area of East Los Angeles was once known as "Maravilla" and also "Belvedere Gardens," just like Chinatown and parts of Lincoln Heights were once known as "Sonoratown" because of the Mexican population that inhabited them. As of the 2000 census, this area had a total population of 124,283. East Los Angeles is represented by Gloria Molina in the Los Angeles County Board of Supervisors. This community receives its police service from the Los Angeles County Sheriff's Department and fire service is provided by the Los Angeles County Fire Department.

[Randyman]

Randy, did you see this pic. I posted on page 237?


The Vato's from El Hoyo Simons, old buddys of mine,
David and Albert....1950

yes I did Frank. Those are old school pachucos. I meant to respond to it but got sidetracked. Cool photo. The clothes were often referred to as drapes, right?

[dagosd2000]

A soldier inspecting zoot suits in Washington D.C. in 1942.

Frank,did you know during the zoot Suit Riots not a single serviceman was arrested by the L.A. police.

[kikibalt]

This from diego

While you guys were watching the fights,at least I could eat this.

[Randyman]

This from diego

While you guys were watching the fights,at least I could eat this.

Looked at the an Italian phone book one day. It was filled with De La O's. next year I'm going with Roger. I'm bringing an Italian phone book with me in case his sister has some doubts about me.

[kikibalt]

Randy, did you see this pic. I posted on page 237?


The Vato's from El Hoyo Simons, old buddys of mine,
David and Albert....1950

yes I did Frank. Those are old school pachucos. I meant to respond to it but got sidetracked. Cool photo. The clothes were often referred to as drapes, right?

These two guys lived where I did in Simons (Montebello) Daivd's sister was my girlfriend...c..1951,
Albert was called "Mara" because he came from Maravilla.

Yeah, the suits were called drapes

[dagosd2000]

I wish I could ramble like you guys, then I could tell you some stories from the Olympic, c..1950's

I'd like to hear them Frank!

Randy
You've known Frank longer than me. I hate to say this,but if Frank wrote a great story,I think it would diminish him.I look at Frank and get inspired to write. He brings out the best when I am writing. A large part of what I write is intended for him. He may not be able to write it down with paper and pencil,but it doesn't matter. He's lived the life that I want to write about. If a fighter writes an autobiography,he needs a ghost writer who winds up telling us about the fighter with his egocentric interpretation. Those autobiographies are really pretty bad. Not to mention the biographies. But they are usually a little better.

We look at the Louises,the Marcianos,and the Sugar Rays. And guys like Frank who've been around boxing most of their lives.Without them we couldn't write about the sport. We wouldn't want to make them feel uncomfortable doing something that WE want to do.We want them to continue being who they are without asking them to do something that would interrupt their rhythm. But if we can see them clearly and without ourselves getting in the way ,and then put it down with paper and pencil,we will be writers.

[dagosd2000]

This from diego

While you guys were watching the fights,at least I could eat this.

Looked at the an Italian phone book one day. It was filled with De La O's. next year I'm going with Roger. I'm bringing an Italian phone book with me in case his sister has some doubts about me.

You and all the gang are invited!!

[Randyman]

Randy, did you see this pic. I posted on page 237?


The Vato's from El Hoyo Simons, old buddys of mine,
David and Albert....1950

yes I did Frank. Those are old school pachucos. I meant to respond to it but got sidetracked. Cool photo. The clothes were often referred to as drapes, right?

These two guys lived where I did in Simons (Montebello) Daivd's sister was my girlfriend...c..1951,
Albert was called "Mara" because he came from Maravilla.

Yeah, the suits were called drapes

Frank, this is my father Andyde Mara dancing sometime in the early 1040's.
Randy

[Randyman]

I wish I could ramble like you guys, then I could tell you some stories from the Olympic, c..1950's

I'd like to hear them Frank!

Randy
You've known Frank longer than me. I hate to say this,but if Frank wrote a great story,I think it would diminish him.I look at Frank and get inspired to write. He brings out the best when I am writing. A large part of what I write is intended for him. He may not be able to write it down with paper and pencil,but it doesn't matter. He's lived the life that I want to write about. If a fighter writes an autobiography,he needs a ghost writer who winds up telling us about the fighter iwith his egocentric interpretation. Those autobiographies are reall pretty bad. Not to mention the biographies. But they are usually a little better.

We look at the Louises,the Marcianos,and the Sugar Rays. And guys like Frank who've been around boxing most of their lives.Without them we couldn't write about the sport. We wouldn't want to make them feel uncomfortable doing something that WE want to do.We want them to continue being who they are without asking them to do something that would interrupt their rhythm. But if we can see them clearly and without ourselves getting in the way ,and then put it down with paper and pencil,we will be writers.

I heard a quote once that went something like this "If you want to be remembered you better write something or you damned well better do something worth writing about"! Guess where frank fits in?