Classic American West Coast Boxing

[Randyman]

James J. Jeffries

Wow, what clarity.

Randy

[Randyman]

The only thing proved last night is that Mayweather is the best welterweight in the lightweight division.

That about sums it up Tom. In the long run nothing was proven at all.

[Randyman]

Stanley Ketchel

Rog, I'm running out of superlatives. These paintings are just too good. I'm not just blowing smoke up your A$$ either. This is really great stuff.

Randy

[kikibalt]

Frank
What what be a good time to arrive at the CBHOF Saturday? Rog
11:00-11:15 A.M. will be fine Rog....

See you there. Maria really enjoys herself around you guys

Jeri and I we'll be there about 11:00. I just got off the phone with Ed. He and his son will be there about the same time. We're all looking forward to Saturday.

Randy

Great!

[raylawpc]

I'll be with you guys in spirit. I'm looking forward to seeing LOTS of photos, Frank!!

[Expug]

Rick,
Can you shoot a PM to me with an address for me to send a check for a ticket to the WBHOF banquet?
Thanks,
Brian

[kikibalt]

I'll be with you guys in spirit. I'm looking forward to seeing LOTS of photos, Frank!!

We will feel your presents, Tom!!.. . Will try on the photos...

[Rick Farris]

Stanley Ketchel

Light & Shadow . . .

I must say that I appreciate the way Rog uses light & shadow in his images.
I am not a painter, but light and shadows are the tools of my trade.
Light & shadow creates depth, adds a third dimension to an other wise flat image.

When you combine this with the uncanny ability to capture the eyes, an expression, the spirit . . .
then you have a Roger Esty original!


-Rick Farris

[dagosd2000]

Guys
Again for the kind words about my art. I'll bring ten framed images that I'll put on stands and bring some others that are not framed. We'll see what hapeens. Anyway getting together at the CBHOF and the WBHOF with friends is what really matters.

Randy
I checked that Tip Top Meats website. Big John Haedrich ,who owns the place,fought at the Helsinki Olympics in 1952. He also trained Ingemar Johansson in the amateurs. Nicest guy you'd ever meet.

[dagosd2000]

Rick,
Can you shoot a PM to me with an address for me to send a check for a ticket to the WBHOF banquet?
Thanks,
Brian

Brian
Best news I've heard lately. Great to know that you'll be there. Rog

[Rick Farris]

Guys
Again for the kind words about my art. I'll bring ten framed images that I'll put on stands and bring some others that are not framed. We'll see what hapeens. Anyway getting together at the CBHOF and the WBHOF with friends is what really matters.

Randy
I checked that Tip Top Meats website. Big John Haedrich ,who owns the place,fought at the Helsinki Olympics in 1952. He also trained Ingemar Johansson in the amateurs. Nicest guy you'd ever meet.

I'm impressed Rog. The '52 Olympics featured Floyd Patterson, Davey Moore and the late Ed Sanders. Sanders scared Ingo so bad he ran from the ring and embarrassed the entire Swedish boxing team. I have a special place in my heart for Helsinki, Finland (well, not the country so much as the women) By the way, Ed Sanders turned pro and was killed in the ring. I have a photo of Johnny Flores and Ed Sanders together, but I can't seem to find it. Maybe Frank remembers Ed Sanders??? I'd like to hear Big John's account of Ingo, who was truly out of charactor with that action.

-Rick Farris

[kikibalt]

Philly West Bar & Grill

The Los Angeles eatery's cheese steak is in gooey fine form, and its other no-frills sandwiches will melt in your mouth.



Marinara yes, marinara is ladled on a pepper mushroom cheese steak. (Al Seib / Los Angeles Times)


By C. Thi Nguyen

September 23, 2009

Anybody who grew up in the United States will tell you: For a certain kind of grilled cheese sandwich, it's got to be American cheese -- the kind that normally comes in individually wrapped slices. A good farmhouse cheddar is all wrong; high-quality cheese melts into particles and lumps, and just plain has too much substance. Only a cheap cheese, like American, will properly collapse into velvety goop.

Philly cheese steaks are the same deal, and the folks at Philly West Bar & Grill in West Los Angeles get it. They know their steaks and they know their cheese, and their cheese steaks have just the right balance between meaty and gooey -- tender sliced rib-eye, browned onions, all bound together by liquefied white American cheese. The bread is soft but still has a little chew in it, and the sautéed onions still have a touch of crispness. This sandwich isn't a study in contrasts, but an easy sort of meld.

Some may immediately protest: "What? What about the Cheez Whiz? A Philly cheese steak has got to have Cheez Whiz!" Not so, says owner and chef Mark Lifland. "I get yelled at for not using Cheez Whiz. People think it's traditional and it's not."

Sure, there are a few well-known places in Philly that use it. "But the real good little places don't use Cheez Whiz. . . . It comes out of a can!" Provolone, mozzarella and white American are the real cheeses for cheese steaks, says Lifland, who is from Allentown, Pa., about 60 miles outside of Philadelphia.

"I'm old enough to have eaten cheese steaks before they invented Cheez Whiz," Lifland says.

"I've never bought processed white American to take into my house," Lifland says, "but I'll put it into a cheese steak. It melts good." And he's right -- you may hate American cheese on its own, but it works weird magic melted into this sandwich. Like Spam musubi (Hawaiian spam sushi), certain dishes seem to exist in order to turn what might seem like inferior ingredients into wonder. Sometimes, context is everything.

It's all gravy

The standard version of the sandwich comes with white American and marinara (yes, marinara), and this is surely the best way to have it. You can try paying your extra 50 cents to switch out the white American cheese for mozzarella, but you'll get a subpar sandwich -- though it might be worth it for a lesson in how right the original sandwich is.

Mozzarella is just too stringy. It sits on top of the meat, without fusing into it. It's too dry. You'll realize that in the standard version, the white American melts down and then soaks up the beef juices, forming a sort of beef-and-cheese emulsion: the nectar of the Philly gods. The only thing better is the juice that drips out of the cheese steak with mushrooms.

That marinara is also traditional: "It comes from a pizza steak [sandwich] -- it's on every menu back in Philly," Lifland says. "It usually comes with mushrooms, mozzarella and marinara."

Where Lifland grew up, they always put a little marinara on every sandwich. Most places in Philly, you have to ask for it -- "they call it gravy," he says.

Philly West isn't a Philly-themed bar, intended to convince the rubes that they're having an authentic experience. It's just the way it is, a Real Bar -- neon beer signs, big-screen TV, some fans blowing on the hot days, a little bit of attitude from the bartenders and clusters of expats and locals, greeting each other as they walk in for their afternoon brew.

Standouts all

Their hoagies are almost as good as the cheese steaks: an assortment of cold cuts, just fatty enough, with crisp lettuce and onions and a nicely biting vinaigrette. Their hot Italian sausage sandwich is also great; it comes standard with mozzarella. The grilled sausage itself is a self-contained unit, all the juiciness trapped inside, and the mozzarella sort of drapes around it, in stretchy, cheesy scarves.

Maybe the biggest surprise, though, is their unusually excellent egg salad sandwich. The menu notes that an egg salad sandwich will take awhile, since the egg salad is made fresh, to order. Egg salad made to order? When was the last time you had that in a $5 sandwich?

It is, indeed, made to order. These are whole slices of hard boiled eggs, mixed with good mayo, slipped into your sandwich with crisp lettuce, raw onions and that herby, vinegary dressing. Putting egg salad in with the usual Philly hoagie fixings is his own invention, Lifland says proudly. The whole thing is shockingly vivid, with the sweetness and warmth of sliced egg, the textures of egg white and egg yolk against the crispness of onions and lettuce.

Philly West's egg salad is a slippery little devil, mayo-covered egg slices squirming their way out of the sandwich with every bite. The experience of the sandwich is half eating, and half wrangling, and you tend to end up dripping, your entire face covered with mayo and egg yolk. It's joyfully embarrassing.

[email protected]

[kikibalt]

Guys
Again for the kind words about my art. I'll bring ten framed images that I'll put on stands and bring some others that are not framed. We'll see what hapeens. Anyway getting together at the CBHOF and the WBHOF with friends is what really matters.

Randy
I checked that Tip Top Meats website. Big John Haedrich ,who owns the place,fought at the Helsinki Olympics in 1952. He also trained Ingemar Johansson in the amateurs. Nicest guy you'd ever meet.

I'm impressed Rog. The '52 Olympics featured Floyd Patterson, Davey Moore and the late Ed Sanders. Sanders scared Ingo so bad he ran from the ring and embarrassed the entire Swedish boxing team. I have a special place in my heart for Helsinki, Finland (well, not the country so much as the women) By the way, Ed Sanders turned pro and was killed in the ring. I have a photo of Johnny Flores and Ed Sanders together, but I can't seem to find it. Maybe Frank remembers Ed Sanders??? I'd like to hear Big John's account of Ingo, who was truly out of charactor with that action.

-Rick Farris

Rick, I remember the '52 Olympics, remember reading about Ingo not wanting to fight Sanders, remember reading when Sanders got killed, but other then that I don't remember much about him.

[kikibalt]

This is for my good buddy, Randy De La O

New Mexico's green chile, the real deal
No need to travel hundreds of miles east -- they're available in SoCal. But a trip to the Land of Enchantment isn't complete without a chile sampler.



New Mexican green chiles are grown all along the Rio Grande Valley. (Norm Dettlaff / Associated Press)

By Russ Parsons

I just got back from a week in New Mexico, and that usually means, by rough calculation, having consumed approximately 21 meals based on chile, most of it green. That's not including snacks. This time the number was far lower. And for the first time I can remember, I didn't have to smuggle hardly any home in my luggage, either.

That's certainly not because I've lost my affection for the fiery stuff, but rather because it's becoming so readily available in Southern California. Green chile roasts are now regular fall events here, held at farmers markets and supermarkets alike. And I can even pick up quite good frozen green chile at my local grocery store. After decades of doing without, suddenly I have plenty.

Let's be clear: I'm not talking about the fresh Anaheim-type chiles you usually find in the supermarket. Though they may sometimes be labeled "New Mexico chile," trust me, any true New Mexican considers that the gravest of insults. They're nothing but anorexic bell peppers.

If you've never had a real New Mexican green chile before, probably the closest parallel would be imagining a poblano with the heat ramped up by a factor of about 10. There's that same sweet green pepper flavor but paired with a kick that'll make your head sweat.

That's no exaggeration. Back in the 1980s when I was a restaurant critic in New Mexico and eating green chile on an almost hourly basis, my wife learned to gauge the heat of the pepper by the following scale: If it was a little hot, my forehead would turn red; if it was pretty danged hot, the top of my head would sweat; and when it was truly incandescent, I would break out in hiccups. I spent most of those three years with hiccups.

Sauce and more

You might think that an ingredient that packs that kind of punch would be used sparingly, as an accent. Not in New Mexico. Probably the most common application is as a sauce for enchiladas -- basically, pure green chile, perhaps cooked down with stock and thickened with a roux.

If you want to go the full New Mexican route, you'll order these enchiladas stacked rather than rolled, and made from blue corn tortillas layered with shredded cheese and white onion. The final fillip -- rarely listed on the menu but almost always available for the asking -- is a fried egg, over-medium, thanks.

Thin the sauce a little and throw in chunks of carrot, potato and chunks of lamb or pork and you've got green chile stew -- a lunchtime staple. Stuff the chiles with cheese, fry them in an egg white batter and serve them soaked in sauce and you've got chiles rellenos.

One of my favorite New Mexican dishes, particularly at this time of year, is calabacitas -- a zucchini and fresh corn sauté sparked with a healthy dose of green chile. The way the sweetness of the squash and corn balances the fiery pepper is perfect.

Green chile is often served even more plainly: On this last visit I was helping my sainted sister-in-law prepare for a big family party and she asked me to peel and chop a bag. Job done, I asked her what she was going to do with it. "Nothing," she said -- it went to the table just as it was, mixed with a little garlic and served as a condiment for cold cuts. Indeed, there is probably no finer complement to a nice medium-rare cheeseburger than a big spoonful of green chile.

Those, of course, are just the classic uses. A newspaper I once worked for in New Mexico ran a semi-annual contest for green chile recipes and every year published a cookbook with the more than 150 entries.

While it may be true that not everything sounds absolutely delicious, the collection does stand as evidence for the exuberant affection New Mexicans feel for their pet pepper. How else would you account for dishes such as veal parmigiana with green chile, or a lemon Jell-O mold with green chile?

Giving red its due

All of this attention to green chile is not to dismiss red, which is the same pepper, fully ripened. It really is impossible to overstate the importance of these two ingredients in the area's cooking.

The state legislature, which does show an occasional sense of humor in between corruption investigations, officially decreed a New Mexico state question: "Red or Green?"

While the green is almost always served fresh, the red is almost always served dried (though you can occasionally find dried green, which has a fine delicately smoky flavor, and for a few weeks, usually in October, fresh red, which tastes like fresh green, only sweeter).

Most of the time you'll find red chile dried and finely ground, just waiting to be simmered. If you have whole pods, cover them with hot water and then work the pulp in your hands, separating out the tough skin and the seeds. (At this point, it's imperative to warn that any time you work with these chiles, red or green, you must wash your hands thoroughly before touching your eyes or any other sensitive body parts.)

Bueno, the company that sells the frozen green chile in local supermarkets, also packs a very good frozen red pulp that's ready for cooking.

Most of the time you see green chile in California, it's specified that it's from Hatch, which is a small town in the southwestern corner of the state. (Notice that when you see something called Ortega green chile on a menu, it's always canned -- that's the name of the company, not the chile or the growing area.)

Hatch does grow a whole lot of chile, but it's not the only source. Indeed, chiles are grown all along the Rio Grande Valley and because of differences in soil, climate and specific strain, the flavors can differ fairly dramatically, though due to the concentrating effect of drying, this is usually more evident in red chile than in green. When I was teaching cooking classes, I had a student from an old New Mexico family who swore she could identify at least a dozen chile sources tasted blind.

My personal favorite is the heritage variety from Chimayo, just north of Santa Fe, which is brick-red with a glorious pungent smell of earth and chile. This trip, I found a farmer selling it at the Santa Fe farmers market (quite a wonderful market, by the way). I took a whiff and just had to buy a bag to bring back home -- no matter how easily available the regular red might be here.

I'm not sure when I'll cook with it. For now, I'm getting too much pleasure just holding it up to my nose and inhaling. Living at the beach and still having good chile: How could life be any better?

[email protected]

[raylawpc]

The Top Ten Reasons Men Prefer Guns Over Women

#10. You can trade an old 44 for a new 22.

#9. You can keep one gun at home and have another for when you're on the road.

#8. If you admire a friend's gun and tell him so, he will probably let you try it out a few times.

#7. Your primary gun doesn't mind if you keep another gun for a backup.

#6. Your gun will stay with you even if you run out of ammo.

#5. A gun doesn't take up a lot of closet space.

#4. Guns function normally every day of the month.

#3. A gun doesn't ask: "Do these new grips make me look fat?"

#2. A gun doesn't mind if you go to sleep after you use it.

And the number one reason a gun is favored over a woman....

#1. YOU CAN BUY A SILENCER FOR A GUN

[dagosd2000]

Guys
Again for the kind words about my art. I'll bring ten framed images that I'll put on stands and bring some others that are not framed. We'll see what hapeens. Anyway getting together at the CBHOF and the WBHOF with friends is what really matters.

Randy
I checked that Tip Top Meats website. Big John Haedrich ,who owns the place,fought at the Helsinki Olympics in 1952. He also trained Ingemar Johansson in the amateurs. Nicest guy you'd ever meet.

I'm impressed Rog. The '52 Olympics featured Floyd Patterson, Davey Moore and the late Ed Sanders. Sanders scared Ingo so bad he ran from the ring and embarrassed the entire Swedish boxing team. I have a special place in my heart for Helsinki, Finland (well, not the country so much as the women) By the way, Ed Sanders turned pro and was killed in the ring. I have a photo of Johnny Flores and Ed Sanders together, but I can't seem to find it. Maybe Frank remembers Ed Sanders??? I'd like to hear Big John's account of Ingo, who was truly out of charactor with that action.

-Rick Farris

Rick
I asked John(Johann is his real name)about that fight. He told me that Ingo felt he wasn't "ready" for that match. John thought that Johansson was psyched out. Johanssen ,at that point,had never seen a specimen like Sanders before. Being African/American may have also played on his mind. Big John had a lot to say about Sanders. Thought he was a very good fighter.

Big John is a big man. He's in his 80's but still stands around 6 ft. 7in.He's got hands like a slab of one his cuts of beef and a grip that is awesome. He told me he was a defensive fighter. He didn't want to absorb a lot of punishment because he was thinking of his future health. He said he won 23 amateur bouts without a loss,then lost in the Olympics. He said he fought a guy that pressured him and couldn't avoid his rushes. After that he said he hung up the gloves. He was a butcher and took that up as a livelyhood.

Also said he was friends with Max Schmeling. He's got a ton of stories. His grand daughter works in the restaurant. Reminds me of Amanda.I think he told me her name was Amanda too. He is like me-a proud grandpa.

[BoxBuzz]

Have you covered the farmers dilemma out in California on this thread? I know it's got to be hard on some folks, perhaps you're too far south to be overly concerned about it. But it seems to suck to be a California farm worker these days.

Sorry for the off topic comment, but I know a few of you have some southern calif roots. And it just seems like one of the most glaring displays of human idiocy I've seen in a long time. I sure hope they let the water loose again in that area. I don't think the fishing community is nearly as put out on the other end of this conversation as the farmers are on their end.

Anyway I'm squarely behind the farmers on this one.


(We now return you to the world famous "Classic American West Coast Boxing Thread".)

[dagosd2000]

Big John Haedrich

[dagosd2000]

This one's for Randy too. Maria in her kitchen

[Rick Farris]

Hey Frank . . .

I have been in contact with Johnny Flores grand daughter.
Johnny had been writing his autobiography at the time of his death.
He had a lifetime of incredible experiences.


-Rick Farris

[kikibalt]

This one's for Randy too. Maria in her kitchen

"WOW", where did you get all those chilles?

[kikibalt]

Hey Frank . . .

I have been in contact with Johnny Flores grand daughter.
Johnny had been writing his autobiography at the time of his death.
He had a lifetime of incredible experiences.


-Rick Farris

Thanks Rick, just opened your cc to her.

[dagosd2000]

This one's for Randy too. Maria in her kitchen

"WOW", where did you get all those chilles?

We went down to TJ one day and went chile shopping at the Mercado Municipal.

[Bobbin & Weavin]

The Top Ten Reasons Men Prefer Guns Over Women

#10. You can trade an old 44 for a new 22.

#9. You can keep one gun at home and have another for when you're on the road.

#8. If you admire a friend's gun and tell him so, he will probably let you try it out a few times.

#7. Your primary gun doesn't mind if you keep another gun for a backup.

#6. Your gun will stay with you even if you run out of ammo.

#5. A gun doesn't take up a lot of closet space.

#4. Guns function normally every day of the month.

#3. A gun doesn't ask: "Do these new grips make me look fat?"

#2. A gun doesn't mind if you go to sleep after you use it.

And the number one reason a gun is favored over a woman....

#1. YOU CAN BUY A SILENCER FOR A GUN

This one is funny, DD
Bruce

[Rick Farris]

The Power and Passion of Dwight Hawkins (PART 1)
by Rick Farris



In the early sixties boxing was on the ropes and reeling from the exposure of mob corruption. Names such as Frankie Carbo, Blinky Palermo and Jim Norris became the targets of eager politicians seeking to advance their careers. Their goal was the abolition of the sport that people love to hate. In 1965, Sonny Liston's questionable one round loss to Muhammad Ali in Lewiston, Maine did nothing to help matters.

However, like the cock roach, boxing proved itself to be the ultimate survivor. The sweet science suddenly began to flourish with a brash young heavyweight champ and the re-emergence of local clubs that began to produce some solid talent. It was about this time that I was given the chance to realize my goal of becoming a boxer. At the time, I doubt that a 12-year-old kid could have had a better opportunity to do so.

In the mid sixties, boxing in Los Angeles experienced a sudden rebirth thanks to the efforts of promoter Aileen Eaton. Mrs. Eaton turned the legendary Olympic Auditorium into the most successful weekly boxing promotion on the planet. With televised weekly cards every Thursday night, fifty weeks out of the year, the Olympic showcased some of the best talent in boxing.

In recent months, I've written about many of the young boxers that came out of the Olympic Auditorium promotions. However, there were also veteran contenders that filled the 18th & Grand arena and waged great wars as the young crop developed. One of the veterans was somebody whom I had the luck to meet and get to know very well. I am speaking of former bantamweight and featherweight contender Dwight "The Hawk" Hawkins.

Before I chronicle the life and career of Dwight Hawkins, I'd like for you to imagine this: In California, you must be eighteen-years-old to qualify for a professional boxing license. However, through creative management (AKA: a phony birth certificate) you are able to get a boxing license at fifteen. At age seventeen, after only a dozen pro fights, you are matched with a brilliant 22-year-old from Mexico. The Mexican was rated number one in the world and would become an all-time great champion in the bantamweight division. The future world champ had more than fifty pro fights and you are only a senior in high school. You are listed as a 10-to-1 underdog and considered an easy tune-up for the next boxer in line to fight for the title. Before a capacity crowd, attending a title fight in the main event, you shock the world by knocking out the number one contender, knocking him out cold.

Impossible? Not if you're Dwight Hawkins. That's exactly what "The Hawk" did on November 6, 1957. The 17-year-old Manual Arts High School senior knocked out future champ Jose Beccera in the fourth round. It was the biggest upset in world class professional boxing that year.

Let me start from the beginning and introduce you to one of the most brutal punching boxers to ever step into the ring. However, if you think a 17-year-old knocking out the great Jose Becerra was amazing, wait until you hear the whole story. I was lucky to be a part of the last five years of Hawkins career, and even luckier to have this man help train me early in my pro career.

In the late 1940's Dwight Hawkins was a small, athletic kid who loved sports. At the age of seven, Hawkins' mother, grandmother and uncle packed up the family car and left the South and headed West. Young Dwight's family sought a better life in California.

On their journey West the family drove through Texas late one night. As Dwight slept in the back seat of the car, he was suddenly awakened. The car had been forced off the road by another driver and Hawkins uncle, who was driving, lost control of the vehicle. The car went off the road and flipped over. Somehow everybody escaped serious injury except Dwight, whose left leg was trapped underneath the wreckage. It was hours before another car passed by and when a Texas Ranger finally stopped to see what had happened he found the young boy in agony.

The cop called for help over his radio and nearly an hour later an ambulance arrived. It took Dwight's uncle, the Texas Ranger and the two ambulance attendants nearly an hour to free the kid's leg from under the car. It took another 45 minutes to get the boy to a hospital. By the time they reached the emergency room it was doubtful that Dwight's leg could be saved. However, if this wasn't enough, there was another problem. This was post World War II Texas and Hawkins was black.

When the ambulance arrived at the hospital the head nurse in charge told the driver that the facility did not take black patients. She told him the boy would have to be transferred to another hospital nearly an hour away. "But the kid is going to lose his leg!" the driver protested. The nurse said she did not make the rules and the boy would have to be taken elsewhere.

About this time a doctor walks into the emergency receiving area to see what all the commotion was about. He took one look at the boy's leg and ordered the nurse, "Get him into an operating room NOW"! The nurse answered, "But doctor, we don't . . ." The doctor turned to the nurse and said, "Did you hear me? I said get that kid into an operating room or you won't have a job tomorrow"!

Had it not been for the human decency of the doctor, a seven-year-old would have lost his leg and very possibly his life early that morning in 1947. As it was, it would be touch and go regarding saving the leg and the doctor told Dwight's mother that the boy would spend the rest of his life on crutches.

When the family arrived in California they settled in East Los Angeles, a predominately Mexican-American community, but at the time, still had an ethnic mix including blacks, whites and Asians. Dwight's mother immediately found a job across town in a hospital. To get back and forth from work she'd have to ride the bus for more than three hours everyday.

Dwight was left in the care of his grandmother while his mother worked. After school, the boy would sit on the curb with his leg in a brace watching the neighborhood kids play baseball, football or what ever other sports they were involved with. This would be tough on any kid, but for one as athletic as young Dwight had been, it was heartbreaking.

Dwight would toss his crutches aside and try to play anyway. Hawkins could still run but it was painful to do so. However, it beat sitting on the sidelines and watching the other kids have all the fun. If his mother had found out about this he'd have been in big trouble. But sometimes a kid just has to do what he has to do, regardless of the risk.

One day, Dwight's friend Armando told him that a boxing ring and punching bags had been set up in the basement of a local church and that boxing lesson's were going to be offered to neighborhood kids. "Why don't you come down and watch us box"? the boy offered.

Dwight's mind began to race and it occurred to him that boxing didn't require kicking and he believed that he might be able to give it a try. However, he knew that nobody was going to let a crippled kid try out for boxing. One afternoon, Hawkins followed Armando and the others boys to the basement gym. Before entering Dwight tossed his crutches under a bush and pulled his pant leg down to make sure his brace was covered. He made the other boys swear not to tell the coach about his leg and the boys agreed to keep their friend's secret.

Hawkins found the boxing coach to be a tall, well built former boxer who'd spent twenty years as a Sargent in the Marine Corps. The man was stern but fair and took a liking to Dwight. Hawkins was smaller than the other kids and worked twice as hard as the rest. He also proved himself to have a natural talent and in no time was outfighting the other boys, even the bigger ones. Dwight was able to hide the leg from the coach until it was time for the boys to compete in a kids boxing program. The boy's on the church team would all have to wear boxing trunks.

To keep his secret from the coach, Hawkins removed the brace and tossed it under the bush with his crutches. He then took an elastic band and wrapped it around his knee for extra support. The coach was no fool and noticed the boy did not move with the same balance as the others. When the boys left the gym the coach quietly watched Hawkins walk down the street and saw the boy retrieve the brace and crutches.

The next day the coach called his tough little protege aside and looked him in the eyes. "Son, do you have something to tell me"? Dwight looked up and knew immediately that coach was on to him. The boy stammered, "Uh . . ". The coach had become like a father to Hawkins and Dwight idolized the man. The kid also loved boxing, a sport that he had found a way to excel in despite his injury. Suddenly, it hit the boy that what had become so important to him was about to evaporate. Tears filled Dwight's eyes and the big man kneeled down and put his arms around gutty little kid. "Why don't you just tell me about it and we'll see what we can do".

Dwight poured out his heart and the coach understood how important it was to the boy to be a part of the boxing team. He also understood how a mother would fear for the safety of the boys leg. The coach met with Dwight's mother and together he and Dwight told her about her son's secret after school activity. Dwight was a good student in school and had never caused his mother a days worry. Dwight's mother reluctantly agreed to let her son box and the coach promised her that he would not allow the boy to continue if the activity was hurting the leg.

With both his mother and Coach supporting his boxing, Dwight Hawkins felt as if the weight of the world had been lifted from his shoulders. Almost immediately, young Dwight not only became the best junior amateur boxer on his team, but one of the best in the City of Los Angeles.

A couple of years later, Mrs. Hawkins decided that it would be best to move across town closer to the hospital where she worked. The long bus rides were not only difficult but prevented her from spending time with her son. The Hawkins family left East L.A. and moved into the Imperial Courts Housing Project in Watts. Imperial Courts was, and is today, one of the most violent and dangerous projects in the country.

It was lucky for Dwight that he had established himself in amateur boxing at the time because it gave him the strength and reputation necessary to withstand pressure from the other kids in the project to join their gang. It wasn't easy, but nothing in the life of Dwight Hawkins was easy. If it was easy then anybody could do it. And "The Hawk" isn't just anybody.

It was at Imperial Courts that Hawkins learned first hand the problems of inner city youth, he lived it. At night, he would lay in his bed and hear the sound of gunshot's ringing through Imperial Courts. He saw countless neighbor's harassed by police or sent to jail for behavior that he knew was senseless. Violent death was also a way of life in the projects.

By the age fifteen, Hawkins had another problem. He was just too good for amateur boxers and nobody wanted to fight him. His coach, the big Marine who had been like a father to him knew that his protege was good enough to beat professional boxers because Dwight was doing it every day in the gym. Another problem was money, Dwight wanted to contribute financially so as his mother would not have to work so hard. He wanted to make it possible for his family to move out of the projects and professional boxing might be the answer.

It was at this point that Hawkins' coach contacted Johnny Flores. Flores was known as "Mr. Golden Gloves" in Los Angeles for his work with amateur boxers and was also a manager & trainer for some successful professionals. Flores knew all about Hawkins and believed that the fifteen-year-old was already good enough to fight in the pros. Along with Hawkins' amateur coach, Flores and his partner Hal Benson helped Hawkins secure a phony birth certificate which enabled him to get a professional boxing license.

Dwight Hawkins was only fifteen and a sophomore at Manual Arts High School in South Central L.A. when he made his professional boxing debut. Flores and Benson chose to take Hawkins out of Los Angeles for his first pro fight. They wanted their young fighter to have a little experience before he was seen in a fight Mecca such as L.A.

Johnny Flores took Hawkins to San Diego for his pro debut on May 14, 1956. In his first pro bout, Dwight Hawkins knocked out Rudy Cisneros in the first round. Two weeks later he returned to San Diego where he KO'ed Chuck Palomeros in two. It was now time to unveil the "The Hawk" in his hometown, the City of Angels.

The problem was that most of the prelim bantamweights in L.A. knew all about Hawkins. Dwight was a devastating body puncher with an awkward style and he'd already hurt a number of local fighters in the gym. In order to get a match Flores had to agree to let Hawkins face Tom Turner, and experienced veteran. Hawkins KO'ed Turner in four rounds. A month later, Dwight was matched with winning main eventer named Al Wilcher and this was a dangerous match because Wilcher had beaten the best of local talent and was not to be taken lightly. The bout was scheduled for ten rounds at the Olympic Auditorium. In the sixth round, Hawkins caught Wilcher with a brutal left hook to the liver, sending the veteran to the canvas where he was counted out. The Olympic crowd included several of Dwight's teachers at Manual Arts High as well as a couple of dozen of his classmates.

There were no local boxers willing to take on the hard punching teenager so Flores took "The Hawk" down to Tijuana, Mexico. Before a sell out crowd he scored a unanimous ten round decision over Joel Sanchez in the Tijuana bull ring. Dwight was 5-0 (4 KO's) when he began his junior year in high school.

Hawkins returned to L.A. and took on a tough veteran named Babe Antunez at the Hollywood Legion Stadium. Antunez was awarded a highly disputed decision over Hawkins and the fans demanded a rematch. Exactly one week later, Hawkins beat Antunez by decision in the same ring.

It was becoming becoming more difficult to find established main eventers willing to fight Hawkins. Flores agreed to match Hawkins with Fuji Rodriguez, a tough Japanese-Mexican fighter whom had been rated among the top ten bantamweights in the world. Hawkins dropped Rodriguez early in the fight but was cut by a head butt in the fourth round. After six rounds the referee was forced to stop the fight due to the cut.

Two months later, Hawkins returned with a first round KO over Leo Carter at the Olympic. A couple of weeks after KOing Carter, Hawkins was matched with world rated Herman Duncan at the Olympic. The scar tissue from the cut suffered in the Rodriguez fight two months earlier was still fresh and ripped open from a grazing left hook in the opening round. After six rounds referee Tommy Hart was forced to stop the bout. Despite Hawkins leading on all score cards, "The Hawk" suffered the second loss of his young career.

After winning his next three fights, two by knockout, Hawkins fought top rated Kid Irapuato in the Tijuana Bull ring. Hawkins beat Irapuato badly in a one-sided match, but after ten rounds the hometown judges awarded the fight to the Mexican . The loss was discouraging to Hawkins who had just turned seventeen and was proving himself as good as the top bantamweights in the world. He knew that winning wasn't enough, he'd have take the decision out of the judges hands or he was never going to make it. On November 6, 1957, that's exactly what Dwight Hawkins would do.

Alphonse Halimi was the Bantamweight Champion of the World and would defend his title against Raul "Raton" Macias at the Los Angeles Sports Arena. Mexico's Jose Becerra, the number one contender, would be next in line for a shot at the title.

It was decided that Becerra should be featured on the undercard of the title match to build interest in his impending shot at the crown. Becerra was an exceptional fighter and considered by many to be the best 118 pounder on the planet. The 22-year-old from Guadalajara, Mexico had been fighting professionally for nearly five years and had a record of 48-3-1 (24 KO's). He had beaten Jose Medel twice, KO'ed Kid Irapuato as well as Manuel Armenteros, all world class bantams.

It would be impossible to overmatch Becerra, but finding anybody willing to take on the future world champ on the Halimi-Macias undercard was not easy. Former champ Mario D'Agata pulled out at the last minute, as well as two other substitutes. Just two days before the fight the frantic matchmaker came up with an opponent. Dwight "The Hawk" Hawkins would take the fight. Hawkins wasn't world rated but he'd done well in matches with Herman Duncan and Kid Irapuato and the Los Angeles fans loved "The Hawk".

As mentioned earlier in this story, Dwight Hawkins shocked the world by upsetting Becerra. Jose Becerra was knocked unconscious in the fourth round by the 17-year-old Manuel Arts High School senior with only a dozen pro fights under his belt.. This ruined Becerra's chance to challenge Halimi, the winner over Macias, in his next title defense. It would be more than a year later before he'd finally face the champ from Algeria in the ring and win the title.

Suddenly Hawkins name became well known among the world's best bantamweights. However, it was also a name to be feared. "What benefit is there to fighting Dwight Hawkins?", was the question concerned managers asked themselves. "Hell, even if you find a way to beat the guy what does your fighter gain? Broken ribs? A victory over a teenager"? Hawkins was one to avoid, boxing is tough enough without throwing the name Dwight Hawkins into the equation.

Three weeks after defeating Becerra, Hawkins went to Mexicali where he faced Felix Cervantes, whom he'd knocked out two months previous in Tijuana. Hawkins had his way with Cervantes but this time the bout went the distance. When Hawkins failed to KO the Mexican he feared he'd have little chance of winning a decision below the border. He was right, The Mexicali judges awarded the match to Cervantes despite the fighter being dropped three times during the fight. Less than two weeks later he took on Kid Anahuac, who was a top ten rated featherweight. After ten bloody rounds the larger Mexican fighter was awarded a close split-decision over Hawkins.

Three months after the loss to Anahuac, Hawkins & Flores traveled back down below the border to Guadalajara to face Jose Becerra in a rematch. Becerra's loss to Hawkins had cost him a title shot with Halimi and it was important that he avenge the loss. To insure this, the match would be held in Mexico. Why Flores' agreed to let Hawkins fight Becerra in Guadalajara (Becerra's hometown) defies common sense. While training in Guadalajara Flores paid a Mexican assistant to bring bottled water to Hawkins to assure the fighter not be poisoned by the Mexican tap water. One day after drinking the water Hawkins became violently ill. Flores called for the assistant to get more water and then followed the man after he left the room. Flores witnessed the Mexican taking the bottle and filling it with water directly from the tap. It was now understood what was wrong with Hawkins. He had Montezuma's revenge. He had been poisoned by the water.

The following day Hawkins, still ailing, entered the ring against Becerra and was stopped in the ninth round.

A few weeks after losing to Becerra Hawkins was matched against another talented L.A. contender named Auburn Copeland. Copeland was the California Bantam king and agreed to fight Hawkins in a ten rounder, but would not risk his state title. Hawkins easily beat Copeland over ten rounds. The following month, he took on another top Mexican bantam Nacho Escalante in San Bernardino and won a unanimous decision.

Nine days after Hawkins beat Escalante, he fought one of the best bantamweights to never win a world title, Jose Medel. The fight was held in Mexico City and Medel stopped the seventeen-year-old two weeks after his high school graduation. Hawkins was disappointed but not discouraged and within a month was back in the ring against world rated Herman Marques at the Olympic. After a ten round war the bout was declared a draw.

Hawkins would win his next seven, four by KO, with victories over world rated featherweight Danny Valdez, Noel Humphries and a KO over Nacho Escalante in a rematch.

It was about this time that an 18-year-old Dwight Hawkins would meet and befriend somebody that would become a very important influence in his life. His name was Davey Moore.

Davey Moore was 25-years-old when he came to Los Angeles to challenge Hogan "Kid" Bassey for the World Featherweight championship in 1959. Style-wise, Moore and Bassey were similar in the ring. Both were strong, punishing fighters with knockout power in both hands. Moore needed sparring partners who would fight him hard in the gym, just as Bassey would fight defending his title. Veteran trainer & gym owner Jake Shagrue told Moore's manager Willie Ketchum that there was only one fighter in Los Angeles capable of filling the bill and that was Dwight Hawkins.

Hawkins was hired as a sparring partner for Moore and the two immediately became friends. Hawkins thought the world of the number one contender from Springfield, Ohio and the two would spend hours talking after finishing their workouts at Moore's training camp in Hemet, California. Moore was like an older brother to Hawkins and would warn the young fighter about the pitfalls of professional boxing. However, by the age of eighteen, Hawkins had already experienced the worst boxing could offer.

One of things that Moore stressed to Hawkins was the importance of family. Davey had six children back home in Springfield and every night would call his wife to check on her and tell her how things were going.

A few weeks later, Davey Moore would knock out Hogan "Kid" Bassey and win the world featherweight title. During the next four years that Moore would hold the title he and Hawkins would remain close.

After Moore won the title Hawkins found it impossible to get fights in Los Angeles and would have to move up to the featherweight division in order to get any fights at all. Many of Hawkins recent fights had already been against featherweights despite Dwight barely tipping the beam at 120 pounds.

In his next fight he would fly to Glasgow, Scotland and lose a disputed decision to Billy Rafferty. Six months later he took on top rated Nelson Estrada in the fighter's hometown of Caracas, Venezuela. Another close fight and another loss to a hometown hero. It was 1960 and 19-yearold Dwight Hawkins was tired of fighting his heart out and not getting any closer to a shot at the title. He announced his retirement from boxing and focused his energy on his true passion, working with kids.

For the next two years Hawkins became involved with the youth of South Central Los Angeles. He organized boxing programs at Imperial Courts as an alternative to gang involvement and the kids loved Hawkins. "The Hawk" spoke their language and had risen of above the desperation of the housing project and made a name for himself. Hawkins drove a nice car, wore nice clothes and spoke about how it WAS possible to make it out of the ghetto and make a difference in the world. Hawkins programs were quite successful and he was making an impression on the youth of Imperial Courts. Violent crimes committed by gang members in the project dropped to an all-time low and Hawkins influence was credited with the change.

The faculty of Manual Arts High School, Hawkins' alma mater, were well aware of Hawkins' program and the good he was doing at Imperial Courts. The High School principal set up a meeting with L.A. City School officials and Hawkins was invited to share his knowledge of Inner-city problems and make suggestions. So impressed were the board members that they hired Hawkins to work for the Los Angeles City School System as a "trouble shooter". Hawkins' new role would be to act as a liaison between gangs and the school system. They could not have made a better choice. It would be a position that Hawkins would fill right up to present day.

After two years away from boxing, Hawkins felt as if he still had something to do in the ring. After a couple of years the younger kids were no longer aware of who Hawkins was and he realized that the exposure afforded him during his boxing career was the foundation of his success in working with kids. Only 22-years-old and anxious to take care of unfinished business, Dwight Hawkins returned to boxing on October 15, 1962.

The Hollywood Legion Stadium was packed for Hawkins return and "The Hawk" scored a fourth round knockout over Manny Linson. After scoring two more victories Dwight would join his pal Davey Moore who was training for an upcoming title defense against Cuban Sugar Ramos. Hawkins would once again be Moore's chief sparring partner for the Ramos match.

While training for the Ramos fight, Moore and Hawkins would rise early in the morning and run the hills near the Moore's training camp in Hemet. On the final day of road work, Moore and Hawkins raced to the top of a mountain and after reaching the top sat together and talked while catching their breath. Hawkins idolized the featherweight champ and Moore was in a reflective mood. Moore told Hawkins about his childhood in Springfield Ohio and how happy he was that he could provide for a better life for his family than what he had as a child. He told Dwight that he would fight about another year or so and then retire. "Too much time away from the family" Moore said.

On March 21, 1963 Dwight Hawkins was at Dodger Stadium to watch his friend defend the featherweight title. That night Moore would not only lose his title to Ramos, but he would also lose his life. When Ramos knocked out Moore, Davey hit the back of his head on the lower strand of the ring ropes. Moore passed into a coma in the dressing room following the match and a couple of days later died in the hospital having never regained consciousness. Hawkins was devastated.

The loss of Davey Moore hurt Dwight Hawkins and took his mind off his own career. A few weeks later Hawkins would head back down to Mexico where he would take on another unbeaten future champ in Vicente Saldivar. Hawkins was stopped by the brilliant southpaw in the fifth round.

The loss of Moore and losing to Saldivar would prove a turning point in the life and career of Dwight Hawkins.

About a year later I would meet Dwight. "The Hawk" would rise above the pain once again and I would witness first hand one of the most amazing fighters to ever step into the ring.


(End- Part 1)