Dwight "The Hawk" Hawkins & my English Grandmother, Edith Woodside- 1967.
The Power of a Grandparent . . .
This photo was taken after the high school graduation of Johnnie Flores' oldest daughter, Pat.
My Grandfather took photos of the event for the family. A few of Johnnie's boxers were close to his family. The Hawk was one of them, so was I. My grandfather used to keep Johnnie's Gym in good repair.
My favorite fighters in those days were Dwight Hawkins, Jerry Quarry (my stablemates) and Mando Ramos.
The following year, my grandad collapsed in the Johnnie Flores Gym, as Johnnie tied my boxing gloves in the ring.
His aorta had ruptured. My grandfather refused to be taken to a Hospital, so Johnnie & Rose Flores drove us home to Burbank, where he could spend his last moments with my grandmother. My Grandmother told him, "You're going to the hospital!" and she called an ambulance. He died on the operating table three times that night, but would survive in the Intensive Care unit for another three weeks before passing. He was 67. His last words were, "give Ricky my watch", a gift from director Blake Edwards. I wore that watch the night I drove to the Olympic for my first pro fight.
My Grandfather had lived a tough life as a child.
Born on Indian territory in Oklahoma, he was orphaned at age six, and eventually found his way to Redlands, California at age twelve. He was too young to join the U.S. Army at the outbreak of WWI, so he hitch-hiked to Canada and became a gunnery Sgt. in the Royal Canadian Army.
At the end of the war, he was in London, waiting to ship home when he met my Grandmother in Hyde Park. They married at St. Gabriel Cathedral in Pimlico, and returned to America. He worked in the Oklahoma oil fields and boxed in "smokers" at first, then returned to California. He found a "one day job" doing some contruction labor for a new movie studio being built in Burbank.
That one day job turned into life long career. It was 1927, and the new studio was Warner Brothers. Somehow he found work rigging electrical cable for the studio's Set Lighting dept. He would become a lighting technician (called "Electricians" in those days) and would go on to become legendary Warner Bros lighting gaffer (lighting director). He did all of the Warner Bros. Humphery Bogart films (except Casablanca), as well "The African Queen", Shangri La, Rebel Without A Cause, My Fair Lady, the Great Race, Ocean's 11 (with "The Rat Pack), and his last feature film for a young cinematographer named Haskell Wexler. That movie was "Who's Afraid of Virginia Wolf". Just a few of many.
Jack Warner told Mike Nichols, the young unknown director of "Virginia Wolf", that the studio wanted Wexler to shoot the film. Nichols was a bit insecure, and wanted four time Oscar winner Robert Surtees as Director of Photography.
Warner told him, "you needn't worry about Haskell, he's a talented young cinematographer and we've already signed "Woody" to do the lighting (Roy Woodside, my grandfather, Surtees' gaffer). The movie won many Oscars- Best Picture, Best Director, and Best Cinematography, and Liz & Dick picked up a couple of statues themselves. The Oscar would be the first of three for Haskell Wexler (He also got one for "Butch Cassidy" a few years later).
In later years, I would work with Haskell Wexler on the Sean Penn-Robert Duvall film, "Colors". When Haskell learned I was Woody's grandkid, he said he remembered me on the set when I was a kid. "Your Grandfather held my hand thru that movie," he told me. "He taught me about light & shadow, creating depth using shades of grey, how to light black & white film, which is far tougher than color."
I've heard a lot of great things about my grandad since his death, from Hollywood legends of his day. Even actress Angie Dickenson had kind words for him when I worked with her on "Police Woman" years ago at Warners. The actress told me, "Woody lit my first screen test, and he really knew how to light women." That is my specialty as well, and I learned a lot from those whom were mentored by my grandfather. In all, eight films lit by my grandfather won Oscars for "Best Cinematography".
He and my Grandma lived simply in a small, 2 bedroom-1 bath home on a large lot about a mile from Warner Bros, a few blocks from where the old "Jim Jeffries Barn" stood until 1954. This is where I grew up. On an old oak tree in the backyard I built a tree house, and had an old Navy duffel bag stuffed with rags hanging from a limb. This is where I would to practice punching for my neighborhood fights before I started boxing. I had to be tougher than the other kids, they had size on their side and some liked to get a little pushy.
I was his only daughter's eldest son, and his favorite of 17 grandkids. He knew I needed him. When I was facing being expelled from school for fighting, my grandfather, knowing I wanted to become a boxer, made a deal with me. "If you promise to stop fighting in school, and find a gym where you can learn to box, I'll give you a ride and support you in your efforts. However, I expect not only to stop getting calls from your school principal, but also see something better on your report card."
I looked up the number of this young Golden Gloves champ, Jerry Quarry, and Jerry told me about the "Johnnie Flores Gym". I not only got my wish to become a boxer, my Grandfather got his. Within a year, I was an honor student.
I apologize for this long post, but I get kind of emotional when I visit St. Joseph Hospital in Burbank. It's where I was born, and where my Grandparents died. I know that you regulars will understand, you all have a fighter's heart. And Roger, as I wrote this, you were on my mind. What you are doing for Amanda and Adam is priceless.
To all of our Boxrec Grandparents . . . God bless you!
-Rick
