Newsletter Vol 4 No 3

[robert.snell1]

The Boxing Biographies Newsletter
Volume 4- No 3 9th Feb, 2009

www.boxingbiographies.com

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I NEED YOUR HELP

I am looking for any footage of his fights and would be most grateful for any help people can provide. I would also appreciate any other information on him



Missouri State Amateur Champion
Name: Art Swiden
Career Record: click
Alias: The Pittsburgh Phantom
Nationality: US American
Birthplace: McKeesport, PA, USA
Hometown: New Kensington, Pennsylvania, USA
Born: 1928-02-11
Died: 2004-08-23
Age at Death: 76
Stance: Orthodox
Height: 6′ 1″


I had the pleasure of being contacted by Shawn a few weeks ago and at my request she has very kindly written the following account. I find it a fascinating story of the man, about whom very little is actually known. My sincere thanks go to Shawn for this quite extraordinary insight into the life of “The Pittsburgh Phantom”.











By, Ms. Shawn M. Cohen


To Love a Boxer

What would you do if you found out that someone you knew and loved 32 years ago in 1976, when you were only 20 years old, and he was 48, someone who had had an impressive career as a professional Heavyweight Boxer from 1946 to 1960, fighting people like Joe Louis, Zora Folley, and Buddy Turman, but you never heard of those people because boxing was as far away from you as China, what would you do if you fell in love with this man never the less, and he with you…?

And what would you do if that man, that tall (6’1”) dark, swarthy and handsome man, who still looked young, vibrant and sexy at 48, charmed the likes of you, a young, somewhat naïve girl who was just working her way to pay for college as a waitress in a Jazz Night club, in Pittsburgh, Pa. and he was actually the manager: AKA Your Boss? That his artillery of charm was not his boxing career for you, although it truly defined him, and all who knew and loved him. Customers and staff alike hung off his every word as he talked about (always because he was endlessly asked!) his “glory days” in the Ring and always referred to him as, “Champ”? Moreover, as you walked by with your surf and turf for your customers, and their Martini’s (“ shaken not stirred”, “olive not twist”) Dizzy Gillespie, or Chuck Mangione or Harold Betters was blowing their horn on stage, and over Dizzy’s chubby blowing cheeks ,(or Chuck’s or Harold’s or George Benson’s guitar or whom ever was that evening’s booked attraction) you’d catch a word from that ex heavyweight now seated at the bar, puffing intermittedly on his long, stogie cigar, recalling in his deep but funny, short, staccato voice some of those more noteworthy brave battles in the ring, but they all happened before you were born?

This starring role belonged to Art Swiden, aka, “The Pittsburgh Phantom” and I, his ingénue. Art’s charming and very realistic imitations of Clark Gable (“Now see here, Scarlett!”) and Bogey, (“Here’s looking at you, Kid!”) were enough, but he always launched them like love bombs while starring at me from across the bar; enough charm to disarm any woman, anywhere.

Our feelings grew in spite of every reason not to be involved. For one, he was going through a very messy and nasty divorce, and secondly, he was 4 years younger than both my parents, which it turned out, he happened to know…but we didn’t discover that until they both decided to come into the bar we worked in for my 21st birthday! That was funny, and it still makes me laugh today, 31 years later, when I think about me coaching Art to meet my parents. Who, as it happens, were also going through a nasty divorce too but decided to call a “truce” for the momentous occasion of my 21st. Art could be as sketchy and as nervous as a racehorse waiting at the post, and he became exactly this when I announced, “Oh, by the way Art, my parents will be in tonight, let me introduce you to them.”

“What! Your Parents!” he shouted in alarm. If you can imagine he fought Joe Louis in an exhibition but was afraid to meet my parents, this gives you some indication of the man I loved, and who always made me laugh. “Ok,” he said, calming down but still nervously pacing the upstairs restaurant floor back and forth, “What are their names?” he shot me a sideways glance, not really wanting to do this. Then I told him….I saw the always-tanned color of his skin run out of his face, and his mouth gap wide open as the words, “Oh my God, I know your parents!”

My mother was a professional dancer, who worked in another Pittsburgh nightclub, 25 years before that but now long gone, and she danced with her dance troupe there. My father was a regular customer, and Art was the main bartender and bouncer in between his fights as a professional boxer. The club was called, “The Copa”, and the time they met was in the early 1950’s. There we were, it was so complicated back in 1976, ‘77, and ‘78

He got over meeting my parents with his usual aplomb, offering free drinks and ran off to run the restaurant, all the while, teasing me when he could about it all. Nothing stopped his love for me, until we decided to go away together for good. There are reasons people love each other that sometimes out weigh any logic. My girlfriends liked Art but thought he was too old for me and although handsome, a bit, “punch drunk”. He would say the “punch drunk” thing was “all an act!” and it was, for when we were alone, he was always smart, articulate, funny as hell and tender.

I was supporting my mother as my parents were divorcing, and my younger brother, who Art also gave a job to in the restaurant, as a dish washer, because he was still in high school. Art was generous like that. He would give you the shirt off his back if you asked him. He didn’t care about money, in the sense of making a lot, but he did care about people, in spite of his outbursts when he would fly over the bar, all 6’1” of him, like a gazelle, if a bar customer got too drunk and was starting trouble. He’d grab the culprit from the back of the shirt, with his enormous boxer hands, and throw the, “bum out on his ass!” This would all happen in about 2 seconds flat. Now remember, Art was 48, 49, and 50 years old when I witnessed him doing this. He had the energy of a panther when he leaped over that bar, and the heart of a lion, protecting his pride, which was us, all the customers and bar and restaurant staff. He was a hell of a man. His friends were many, and a lot were famous themselves. Billy Conn came into the bar a few times back then, and he and Art were good pals. I remember when Art wanted to introduce me to him, as he always wanted me to meet his friends, infamous or just plane famous. I was so young, so I didn’t know most of them or why they were famous, but Art would laugh about it and explain it to me. Many years later, after Art’s death when I met up with our regular bandleader, Harold Betters, he told me a great story about Billy Conn. Harold saw him in the club, quietly having a drink at the bar, while he was playing his trombone up on stage. He got a break and went over to meet the famous Mr. Conn. Art had just walked away after talking to Billy. “Mr. Conn, is it true what they say about Art, was he really that good in the ring?” Harold who worked with Art in the club for years, and loved him like a brother wanted to know. Billy took a sip of his whiskey and replied, “You don’t see me messing around here now, do ya!?”

Art was more special than just a boxer. Art had a heart of gold, and if there were medals, Olympic size ones, for a man with a beautiful heart, it would have Art Swiden’s name on it.

I know this is a boxing site, and for all those who love the stats, here are Art’s: www.boxrec.com. (Put in Art Swiden in the search box). I can’t tell you all the hooks, uppercuts, and combinations Art did in each fight, but I do know the New York Times called him, “a Master Boxer”, and more quotes, like, “the cleverest stylist in the business.” And that’s when fighters like Rocky Marciano were his contemporaries. That he had bad management and saw almost no money in those 1950’s fights, and the dirty calls from refs and so forth are all part of his boxing history. That he was a kid, who came from nothing, lost both his parents by the time he was 12. He tried to get into the marines, while World War II was raging, at 14 years old, and was sent home when they found out his real age, shows what kind of courage he had. That he tried out for the Golden Gloves at 19 years old, with the bit of boxing he learned in the Marines, the short time he was there, and then won in Missouri, shows you what kind of determination he had to ,as he often put in Marlon Brando’s voice, “to be a contender, not just another bum”.

When it all came down to it, I knew his young daughter needed him more as a father, and I needed to help my mother. I also knew although Art was still willing against all the problems and odds but I really wanted to go back to college in California, where I had been when I was called back home to help my mother, who hadn’t worked since being a dancer and marrying my father. My father left her no money, so it was up to me to help her. Our lives were not our own. Upset, frustrated and sad, we both cried but we both knew we each had a place somewhere else, not together, not then. It was the right decision at the time, but it was not easy, nor without tremendous emotional pain. As my best girlfriend said to me at the time, “I have never seen a man look at a woman the way Art looks at you.” Even with this great gift of love, I could not compete with a child who needed him more. My father had left and my mother had nothing, I just couldn’t do it to a young child. Art agreed, very reluctantly, and we parted.

I ran into Art a year later, 1979. He told me straight up, “I still love you”, and begged me to come back to him and I said the same, “I still love you, too, Art.” But I was mourning the loss of someone in my life I knew before Art. Although I was back in college studying psychology, and loving it, I was emotionally very vulnerable because of the premature death of someone else. There were so many reasons but I also knew he was back with his family, and I said that this was right and as it should be. Never did I know how hard those words would affect me later.

Did we ever see each other again? Yes, in 1994. However, as Art would say, “that’s a story for another time”. I can hear him say that as I write this, and so, what happened in the end…?

I had a dream about Art in September 2005, a long time resident of London, England now, working here, raising my own young daughter on my own. The dream was so real and charming and made me laugh as I woke up, that I just had to Google him and see if anything was up. Something I never did before, but there it was, first the loss of his voice box from cancer in 1999. Poor Art, he so loved to put on actor’s voices, and tell funny stories, but at least he was alive…until I scrolled down to see his obituary; August 23, 2004 at age 76. I felt the life rush out of me and the tears well in my eyes…”Art, beautiful Art, no!” I said it aloud, and began to cry and wail like a baby. “Baby” that was what Art always called me, so full of affection, and softly. For the weeks that followed, and through the tears of grief, I realized I had not been in touch with anyone who knew Art for all those years. In a frantic search to talk to one of his few friends who had known about us, and there were only a few, as we both held this secret for all these years, finally a reply off a boxing website. One of the many that I had clumsily put out my plea. Luckily, fate or Art from the Great Beyond, made his friend find this site and he emailed me. It was from his old best friend, Bob. Bob said to me when we talked on the phone, “I thought I would hear from you, Shawn. You know Art loved you all his life, he never stopped loving you. When he spoke about you, his eyes lit up, and he always spoke so highly of you. I was sure I would hear from you, and now here you are.” We talked for 3 hours, all about Art and all the missing years.

Now, here I am, 3 years later, writing and still researching and searching for information about Art’s boxing career because I am writing a book about this wonderful, funny, handsome man. A boxer, yes, and a hell of a boxer, who never got the big money, or the kudos he deserved. That the boxing world should not forget about him, because he was absolutely “Unforgettable”…in every way. (Art loved his music, and he used to sing this to me…little joke between us, now I sent it out to you all about him.)

One day, you might read it. I’m calling it, “The Pittsburgh Phantom and Me”.
I have found over 600 newspaper articles on his fights, the highs and the lows, the glory and the grit which is great but If anyone out there has any video tape, cine films or DVDs of Art’s fights, I would love to see them. I am sure Art would want me to. Somehow, like Svengali, I feel him looking over my shoulder, helping me to write this biography/memoir and I can just hear him laughing, telling me “don’t forget this story or that” or “make me look like a Champ, Kid!” Boxers are people, too, with hearts not just for the ring, but also for the people they love in their lives, and I am very blessed indeed to have been one of them.
Art Swiden will always be the Champion of my heart.



TOM ALLEN'S LIFE STORY – taken from article published in 1937



AFTER licking Posh Price in 41 rounds, and George Iles in 17 rounds, Allen -was matched with Joe Goss for £100 a "side. They met on March 5, 1867. Altogether they fought 34 rounds, and owing ,to interference, the 34 rounds were contested in three different rings. At last, after they had battled fiercely for one hour and forty-two minutes, the bout was finally declared a draw.

This was Allen's last battle in England, for shortly afterwards he sailed for the U.S.A., where, on July 21, 1867, he duly arrived in New York.

Joe Goss got the needle at Tom's running out of a return battle, and being determined to get Allen's scalp he followed that worthy to the States. Directly he reached the land of the almighty dollar he challenged Allen to a return bout. Allen accepted immediately, and a match was made for 5,000 dollars a side and the championship of the world. Nobody knew what right they had to battle for such a pretentious title, but nobody cared, so they satisfied their vanity.

The battle took place in Cincinatti on September 7. After several rounds, during which neither had asserted superiority, Allen hit Goss when that. worthy was on the ground, and was promptly disqualified on an appeal.

In Cincinatti a little later Tom_, got into a bit of trouble with the authorities. He had made all arrangements for a battle with a fellow whose name we didn't catch. The authorities didn't care for Tom's way of making money, so they arrested him and kept him in goal until he gave bonds for his good behaviour. In other words, he had to keep the peace in that State for twelve months.

Tom Has to Behave

After Allen's run-in with the authorities, in which he had been made to give bonds for his good behaviour in that State, Tom, not caring for this turn in his affairs, migrated to another State, where they were not so particular about his keeping the peace.

So one month after his giving bond in Cincinatti, he was meeting Mike McGoole, for £200 a side, in St. Louis, which is quite another State. Right here Tom met some of those celebrated American sports, for Which America has ever been famous. Nine rounds had been fought, occupying some thirteen minutes (unlucky number, as you will note), when some of these American sports started an argument around the ring, the ropes were cut, and the ring broken up by these gentlemen. Some of these drew pistols and bravely fired at Allen, putting one bullet through his right and another in his gongha, the latter necessitating his standing at meals for a few days.

The referee therefore decided that as Allen had not played fair, McGoole was the winner. Allen, however, thought that he was not getting the square deal which the U.SA. has always been noted for giving strangers in those days, and instituted proceedings for the recovery of his dough, and got it.

Knives and Pistols Again

Soon after he met Charley Gallagher once more. This time, however, Tom meant -business, for he was knocking the stuffing out of Charlie when once more those sporting Americans broke the ring up, and Tom fled for his life to escape the knives and pistols of the said sports.

A couple of months later he made another match with his old pal, Mike McGoole, for £200 a side, but the match was finally abandoned, owing to their not agreeing upon a stakeholder. They had to be particular in them there days.

Jim Mace arrived in America shortly after this, and Allen was promptly on his trail. They finally signed articles for £500 a side and the world's title. The battle took place in New Orleans on May
10, 1870.

In the battle. with Mace, Tom had the misfortune to injure .his right shoulder when he rushed Jem, and, getting a grip, throw him awkwardly, and in the fall sustained the injury. Allen, however, never had a chance with the clever Mace, and had he had a_ dozen arms he could not have licked the incomparable Mace.

Shortly after, Tom's arm was well; he was again on the warpath, and challenged the world. A party named James C. Gallagher accepted Tom's challenge with the proviso that Allen should lay £200 to £100. Allen was willing, so a match was made on those conditions.

Tom Retires, But

On November 5, 1870, they met near St. Louis, when Allen punched the stuffing out of Gallagher in sixteen rounds, occupying 23 minutes. After this contest Tom publicly stated that he was finished with the ring and would retire.

The Mike McGoole whom Allen had fought was quite some baby. He stood 6ft. 3in, and weighed 17st., so Torn was at a slight disadvantage, being 5 inches shorter and nearly 5st. lighter. In spite of all the Irishman's advantages, Allen simply cut him to ribbons; until, at the finish, when Allen was set upon by the " boys," Mike was a bleeding lump of battered humanity when carried away from the scene of battle.
In spite of the terrific beating Mike had taken the referee had awarded him the decision ; but, as stated above, Tom had sued for the return of his stakes, and had got them.

Three years after stating he had finished with the ring, Tom, like all of 'em, made another match with his old opponent Mike McGoole. Evidently Mike's sporting pals were not on hand this time, for Mike got. another terrific hiding.

After stopping everything that Torn sent him he was polished off in nine rounds, the nine rounds occupying 20 minutes.

Once' more Tom retired; and once more he came back., this time to meet Ben Hogan of Pittsburg. They were to have met at 'St. Louis, but while they were selecting the ground for the battle they were arrested. The Illinois authorities also arrested several of the more prominent of those who had interest in the battle. These , were all required to give bonds for their future good behaviour. This being done, .all, were liberated. Shortly afterwards Hogan and Tom fought at a place called Pacific City.

Foul Causes Trouble

Three fierce rounds were fought, when, during the third round, Allen is reported to have struck his opponent 'a foul blow. That being a good excuse for trouble, .the boys started it, and they immediately. got busy. Knives and pistols were drawn, the ropes cut, and once more Allen did his hundred in less than evens, and then some!

Tom’s next battle was with Joe Goss once again. They fought first in Kent county, where seven rounds were fiercely contested. The police came on the scene and the battlers and their followers had to take it on the run. The ring was then fixed in Boone County, where fourteen more rounds were fought. Tom took the lead here throughout. the battle. He' was punishing Goss severely when the cry of " Militia ! " was raised, and again the contestants got oh the move.

Unfortunately for Allen, Goss's party had got busy, and report says that the referee was got at. A few seconds after they started again , Goss got the decision on a foul. What the foul blow was nobody seemed to know.

A few days later Goss was arrested, but Allen kept under cover, and shortly after was smuggled aboard a boat bound for England. It was then that the match with Charlie Davis was made. Allen evidently returned to the States later, for we read that he died in St. Louis.

King of the Toughs

Here in St. Louis, Tom Allen reigned as a king among the toughs of that city. Tom kept a big whiskey store, which was frequented by all the toughest citizens of the city of St. Louis. It was here that he was visited by an English sport who was on a visit to that city. An American friend took him there. Said he: " Tom Allen's always glad to see a fellow countryman, so come along."

There was a little difficulty at first in even getting inside until they had satisfied the custodian of the door that they were, the right sort. Then they were ushered into a large hall with white- washed walls.
Pictures of all kinds of sports and sportsmen decorated the walls. Seated in a huge chair at the 'end of the hall was Tom Allen, with a prize bulldog squatting each side of him. The hall was crowded with miners and toughs of all sorts and liquor flowed freely. A sixteen-feet ring occupied the centre, and at the suggestion of one of the visitors a couple of boys were put into the ring. The purse was put up by the English visitor. and the two boys put up a rattling scrap over nine rounds, when one put the other down for the full ten seconds.

After the scrap followed a sing-song. tale telling, etc., and it -was six a.m. before the visitors sought their hotel after a lively night's sport.

Tom Allen's word WAS law among those roughs, and woe 'betide any that upset him. He had a hundred trusties. all ready at any and every moment to do " King's " bidding. Tom died at the age of 65, the cause of death being given as "general debility."

Thus they lived and died in those " Them there good old days."



HELP WANTED

George Reynolds

Does anyone have any info on George Reynolds, originally from Cardiff, who held the Welsh lightweight title from 1937 to 1938. I believe he was based at Wolverhampton for at least some of his career.
I would particularly like to know when he was born and when and where he died, also when he moved from Cardiff. Any others details, both biographical and regarding his fight record, would be much appreciated.

http://www.boxrec.com/list_bouts.php?hu ... &cat=boxer

I would also appreciate any information on
Cassius Clay Scott
http://www.boxrec.com/list_bouts.php?hu ... &cat=boxer

[Robinson]

Awesome work...printing it off.

Ive got some scannings to send to you, good sir.

[robert.snell1]

hi mate

thanks for that and very interested in what you are to send. I do hope that the fires in your country have not caused you or the family problems. Its all over the news here, terrible scenes.

[Robinson]

I am fortunately down in Sth Australia, we have been lucky this
year. The tragedy is that these are most likely the work of arsons.

Pretty horrendous stuff.

Take care mate. Ill lob the scanned work your way asap. Just going
to add some more.