BoxRec

Rick Farris wrote:

kikibalt wrote:Murray: Dempsey was the meanest
By Jim Murray
Special to ESPN.com

Editor's note: This column originally appeared in the Los Angeles Times on November 17, 1965.

There are all kinds of ways to get ready for a heavyweight championship fight. You work on what you need.

Joe Louis used to practice going to the farthest neutral corner. Gene Tunney practiced running for his life, Floyd Patterson should practice getting up and Muhammad Whatisname should practice shutting up.

Lots of fighters practice hooks to the head but Gene Fullmer used to practice hooks with the head. Rocky Marciano threw so many punches in so many directions he just had to make sure he didn't hit the referee -- or the ring posts.

ESPN Classic
SportsCentury will profile Jack Dempsey on Friday, August 10 at 8 and 11 p.m. ET.
But Jack Dempsey was the only champion who practiced the same way the early Christians did -- as if his opponent had a mane and claws and would not only fight him but eat him. Dempsey even fought a punching bag as if it might open fire at any time. Sparring partners limped out of town on every bus. A newspaper man climbed into the ring with him once as a gag, and a colleague had to write the fellow's story for a few days afterwards while he took nourishment through a straw. "Dempsey fought you," a battered spar-mate once confided, "as if the two of you were on a ledge 20 stories up and it was either him or you."

The man who can best testify to the terrible tornadic frenzy of the Dempsey attack is a tall, graceful, New Orleans-born Irishman named Marty Burke.

Martin Burke, now 70 and still blondhaired, is known around the sound stages of Hollywood as the father of 20th Century Fox's television star, Paul Burke ("12 O'Clock High") but he was known around the gyms and barges of New Orleans' "Irish Channel" section as "The Turk," the best left-hook artist who ever came out of bayou country.

Marty's book, if he writes it, is going to be called "1,000 Rounds with Jack Dempsey, or Did You Think I Got This Ear Answering the Telephone?" If you doubt Dempsey's punch, Marty will take your hand and press into what once was a chest bone, but what is now a depression deep enough to hide letters. Dempsey did that with a single hook. Marty forgets what kind of punch it was that used to break his nose regularly.

Marty began to train with Dempsey well before the Dempsey-Willard fight. The two of them toured the tank towns of New Jersey and Pennsylvania where Dempsey's manager, Doc Kearns, posted a ritual $500 fee for anyone who could go the route against the tigerish Dempsey. Doc used to post himself behind the curtain with a bung starter in case any of the tank palookas got lucky, but Marty recalls the few who squared off against Dempsey went out on a stretcher. Marty had to take up the slack and keep the show going.

One night, when his nose looked like a pomegranate and his ear had grown so far it looked like a second head, Marty mildly suggested to Dempsey that he take off a day to heal. "Oh," soother Dempsey, "I'll take it easy with you, Turk -- just a few body taps." The first part of his body Dempsey tapped was his nose -- with one of the hardest rights he ever threw. "Jack just didn't know the meaning of 'take it easy' when he got into the ring. You had to be alert out there or you'd find yourself looking around for your head."

One time, Marty sparred six rounds in one week with Dempsey, and then fought 15 with Gene Tunney for the American light-heavyweight championship. "The six rounds with Dempsey were worse than the whole 15 with Tunney." In fact, Burke says, his tow fights with Tunney -- he lost both -- were easier than any single vaudeville fight with Dempsey with 16-ounce gloves.

Marty's next-hardest fight was with Harry Greb. "He hit me so often, I actually turned around to see who was helping him. With Greb, it was a good thing he couldn't hit hard because he hit often. With Dempsey, it was a good thing he didn't hit often because he hit hard."

At 6 feet 3 inches, Marty had altitude going for him in most fights. Also, he presented a slim target. He weighed as little as 154 when he first began to tour with Dempsey. He fought George Godfrey, on of the great Negro fighters of the '20s, only after the boxing commission told him to put on four more pounds on the afternoon of the fight. Marty spent the rest of the day draining down bootleg ale and Guinness Stout. He not only made the weight, he almost made the drunk tank. This was the first time they ever had to give a fighter a shower BEFORE the fight. Marty showed up at 175 pounds, singing "Mother Machree." Godfrey, a two-bottle man himself, just looked jealous.

Marty even won the fight. At 220 and cold sober, Godfrey was no match for him, and this was at a time when all the ranking heavyweights were ducking behind the color line and keeping Godfrey, known variously as the "Baron of Leiperville" or the "Leopard of Leiperville" and other alliterations, at bay. In time, Godfrey came up to Marty after the bout and allowed, "Turk, you're the first fighter I met in a long time didn't ax me to handcuff myself."

After Dempsey, Burke didn't see any need to ask anybody to handcuff himself. In fact, he was the first to know it when Dempsey began to lose it all. "I told him before the Tunney fight, 'Jack, you know you can't fight anymore. Tunney shouldn't lose a round.'" It turned out, Tunney didn't. Not even the one he was knocked down in for 14 seconds in the second fight.

Marty drifted around the fight game for several more years after that -- or until he got knocked out in one round by Young Stribling. "Five years before, Stribling couldn't have hit me with a handful of birdseed."

Back in New Orleans, Marty opened a French Quarter saloon so tough the shore patrol used to walk it in platoon strength. Some of Marty's last fights were with longshoreman half his age and twice his weight and one night when business was good, Marty sat down after he had stacked a few customers in a neat pile outside the front door, and reached in his mouth and extracted three teeth by hand which had already been loosened by fists.

He spoke in a lisp as he inspected the bloody molars. "I wonder," he questioned, "how Dempsey missed these?"

This column originally appeared in The Los Angeles Times. Reprinted by permission. All rights reserved.

Jim Murray, the long-time sports columnist for the Los Angeles Times, won the Pultizer Prize for commentary in 1990. He died Aug. 16, 1998.

Jim Murray is the finest sports writer I ever read.

Rick Farris wrote:

kikibalt wrote:Murray: Dempsey was the meanest
By Jim Murray
Special to ESPN.com

Editor's note: This column originally appeared in the Los Angeles Times on November 17, 1965.

There are all kinds of ways to get ready for a heavyweight championship fight. You work on what you need.

Joe Louis used to practice going to the farthest neutral corner. Gene Tunney practiced running for his life, Floyd Patterson should practice getting up and Muhammad Whatisname should practice shutting up.

Lots of fighters practice hooks to the head but Gene Fullmer used to practice hooks with the head. Rocky Marciano threw so many punches in so many directions he just had to make sure he didn't hit the referee -- or the ring posts.

ESPN Classic
SportsCentury will profile Jack Dempsey on Friday, August 10 at 8 and 11 p.m. ET.
But Jack Dempsey was the only champion who practiced the same way the early Christians did -- as if his opponent had a mane and claws and would not only fight him but eat him. Dempsey even fought a punching bag as if it might open fire at any time. Sparring partners limped out of town on every bus. A newspaper man climbed into the ring with him once as a gag, and a colleague had to write the fellow's story for a few days afterwards while he took nourishment through a straw. "Dempsey fought you," a battered spar-mate once confided, "as if the two of you were on a ledge 20 stories up and it was either him or you."

The man who can best testify to the terrible tornadic frenzy of the Dempsey attack is a tall, graceful, New Orleans-born Irishman named Marty Burke.

Martin Burke, now 70 and still blondhaired, is known around the sound stages of Hollywood as the father of 20th Century Fox's television star, Paul Burke ("12 O'Clock High") but he was known around the gyms and barges of New Orleans' "Irish Channel" section as "The Turk," the best left-hook artist who ever came out of bayou country.

Marty's book, if he writes it, is going to be called "1,000 Rounds with Jack Dempsey, or Did You Think I Got This Ear Answering the Telephone?" If you doubt Dempsey's punch, Marty will take your hand and press into what once was a chest bone, but what is now a depression deep enough to hide letters. Dempsey did that with a single hook. Marty forgets what kind of punch it was that used to break his nose regularly.

Marty began to train with Dempsey well before the Dempsey-Willard fight. The two of them toured the tank towns of New Jersey and Pennsylvania where Dempsey's manager, Doc Kearns, posted a ritual $500 fee for anyone who could go the route against the tigerish Dempsey. Doc used to post himself behind the curtain with a bung starter in case any of the tank palookas got lucky, but Marty recalls the few who squared off against Dempsey went out on a stretcher. Marty had to take up the slack and keep the show going.

One night, when his nose looked like a pomegranate and his ear had grown so far it looked like a second head, Marty mildly suggested to Dempsey that he take off a day to heal. "Oh," soother Dempsey, "I'll take it easy with you, Turk -- just a few body taps." The first part of his body Dempsey tapped was his nose -- with one of the hardest rights he ever threw. "Jack just didn't know the meaning of 'take it easy' when he got into the ring. You had to be alert out there or you'd find yourself looking around for your head."

One time, Marty sparred six rounds in one week with Dempsey, and then fought 15 with Gene Tunney for the American light-heavyweight championship. "The six rounds with Dempsey were worse than the whole 15 with Tunney." In fact, Burke says, his tow fights with Tunney -- he lost both -- were easier than any single vaudeville fight with Dempsey with 16-ounce gloves.

Marty's next-hardest fight was with Harry Greb. "He hit me so often, I actually turned around to see who was helping him. With Greb, it was a good thing he couldn't hit hard because he hit often. With Dempsey, it was a good thing he didn't hit often because he hit hard."

At 6 feet 3 inches, Marty had altitude going for him in most fights. Also, he presented a slim target. He weighed as little as 154 when he first began to tour with Dempsey. He fought George Godfrey, on of the great Negro fighters of the '20s, only after the boxing commission told him to put on four more pounds on the afternoon of the fight. Marty spent the rest of the day draining down bootleg ale and Guinness Stout. He not only made the weight, he almost made the drunk tank. This was the first time they ever had to give a fighter a shower BEFORE the fight. Marty showed up at 175 pounds, singing "Mother Machree." Godfrey, a two-bottle man himself, just looked jealous.

Marty even won the fight. At 220 and cold sober, Godfrey was no match for him, and this was at a time when all the ranking heavyweights were ducking behind the color line and keeping Godfrey, known variously as the "Baron of Leiperville" or the "Leopard of Leiperville" and other alliterations, at bay. In time, Godfrey came up to Marty after the bout and allowed, "Turk, you're the first fighter I met in a long time didn't ax me to handcuff myself."

After Dempsey, Burke didn't see any need to ask anybody to handcuff himself. In fact, he was the first to know it when Dempsey began to lose it all. "I told him before the Tunney fight, 'Jack, you know you can't fight anymore. Tunney shouldn't lose a round.'" It turned out, Tunney didn't. Not even the one he was knocked down in for 14 seconds in the second fight.

Marty drifted around the fight game for several more years after that -- or until he got knocked out in one round by Young Stribling. "Five years before, Stribling couldn't have hit me with a handful of birdseed."

Back in New Orleans, Marty opened a French Quarter saloon so tough the shore patrol used to walk it in platoon strength. Some of Marty's last fights were with longshoreman half his age and twice his weight and one night when business was good, Marty sat down after he had stacked a few customers in a neat pile outside the front door, and reached in his mouth and extracted three teeth by hand which had already been loosened by fists.

He spoke in a lisp as he inspected the bloody molars. "I wonder," he questioned, "how Dempsey missed these?"

This column originally appeared in The Los Angeles Times. Reprinted by permission. All rights reserved.

Jim Murray, the long-time sports columnist for the Los Angeles Times, won the Pultizer Prize for commentary in 1990. He died Aug. 16, 1998.

Jim Murray is the finest sports writer I ever read.

Rick Farris wrote:Motown thru the eyes of Calvin . . .


When I arrived in Detroit, I was introduced to a local studio Teamster who would be driving our 40' production van that was packed with lighting equipment and cable. The man's name was Calvin, a slender, elderly black man who was on the quiet side, choosing his words carefully when engaging in conversation, rarely speaking unless spoken to.

Something drew me to Calvin. I suspected he was a sports fan, always wearing a Detroit Tigers baseball cap. I had a feeling that Calvin just might be a boxing fan. I rarely tell people that I used to be a boxer, but somebody on my crew will usaully let it be known. One day, I approached Calvin and made the comment, "You know, Detroit has one helluva boxing history. Some great fighter's came out of the Motor City." Calvin's eyes widened and a smile came to his face. "Yes it was. Joe Louis was from Detroit."

I wanted Calvin to know that my knowledge of Detroit's boxing history went deeper than Tommy Hearns and Emmanuel Steward's top-notch Kronk stable of a few years back. I asked Calvin if he knew of the Brewster Recreation Center, where Louis began boxing and our driver immediatly came to life. "I used to swim at the Brewster Center when I was a kid, and it's still there today."

I shared my knowledge of Brewster, and how when Joe Louis was boxing amateur, there was this small kid who used to carry the future Brown Bomber's gym bag for him. That young boy's name was Walker Smith, and he would one day become the great Sugar Ray Robinson. I also told him of trainer Eddie Futch, and how he and Louis would train together, and how Futch claimed the greatest pure boxer he ever saw was former light-heavy contender, Holman Williams. Futch claims that he would rather watch Holman Williams shadow box than watch others fight.

We talked of Futch's 60's-70's welterweight, Hedgeman Lewis, who came from Detroit to make a big name for himself in L.A. And we talked of Henry Hank, and others.

However, Calvin and I shared an interest in another Detroit product beyond boxers, and that was Motown Records, founded by another California Boxing Hall of Famer, Berry Gordy Jr.

"I'm gunna take you around Detroit to a few places off the beaten path, and show you where Berry Gordy and many of his future music legends came from. I'll show you where it all started, places you won't read about, places that only we in the neighborhood know", our driver promised me. Calvin had grown up less than two blocks from the home where Berry Gordy had lived as a child, right off of 12th Street. Today that neighborhood is like an overgrown ghost town, burned out and boarded up, a sad memory of better days in Detroit.

On my only day off while in the Motor City, Calvin kept his word and picked me up at the Motor City Hotel-Casino, where our crew was lodged. A few minutes later we were parked in front of the Brewster Recreation Center, and he pointed toward one of the building's windows. "That's where the boxing gym was, that's where all the best of Detroit worked out back in the day", Calvin told me. "I don't know what is in the room today, but it ain't boxing no more." The Center was closed that Sunday, so I was unable to look in.

About fifteen minutes later we were in front of the home where Berry Gordy grew up. Today it's pretty run down, over grown with plants, looking as if the grass had not been cut in decades, and it hadn't been. The house next door had partially burned down several years back, and was just left abandoned, charred remains crumbling around a brick chimney and cement front porch. The house on the otherside was boarded up. "That's just a crack den today", Calvin explained. "These drug addicts find shelter in these abandoned houses during the winter when it's bitter cold outside. The make a fire to keep warm and often end up burning the place down."

We moved on down 12th Street to "Berry Gordy Jr. Avenue", and we turn left. A few blocks down the road we come to a small, well maintained wooden building with a big sign out front, "Hitsville U.S.A." Calvin smiled proudly and pointed to the building. "That is where Berry Gordy started Motown Records, that was his first recording studio. That's where the Surpemes, Smokey Robinson, Marvin Gaye, The Temptations, Stevie Wonder, The Four Tops,and all the rest got there start."

I mentioned to Calvin that I'd heard Gordy sold the Motown label a few years back for a conservative $100 million (It had greater value, I'd heard?). Calvin began to laugh, "That ain't bad, considering he started it all with an original investment of $500."

Today "Hitsville U.S.A. is a museum honoring the Motown legends, however, it was closed on the day we passed by."

As we drove away, Calvin pointed at an old hospital on a corner, "That's where Aretha Franklin's father worked as a doctor, he delivered my younest sister, came right to our house and delivered Geraldine right on sofa in the den."

We drove on, and as Calvin relived his memories of the Motor City, I just sat and listened. It was a special day in my life, it was a day of history, the good history of a town that's best days are behind it.

I truly loved my 15 days in Detroit. I did the lighting on the pilot for ABC's new tuesday night police drama, "Detroit 1-8-7". I could have stayed on thru April, and completed the following 22 episodes, but I was not looking forward to spending months filming outside thru the Detroit winter. I was offered a Tom Hanks-Natalie Portman feature film, "Parthanon", which will begin production in two weeks in L.A. where we will film for four months, followed by a six-week location in Greece. It was an offer too good to refuse.

I liked my brief stay in the Motor City, and I pray for the City and it's people. The City and State of Michigan are bankrupt, and there is little hope for the future in the eyes of many. I'll keep my fingers crossed for the Motor City, where I have a great new friend in Calvin.


-Rick Farris

Chuck1052 wrote:Jim Murray was a fine sportswriter, but his column contained some factual errors when the subject was boxing at times. For instance, he once wrote that Fidel La Barba was a fair featherweight as a professional fighter, but nothing about La Barba being a world champion and an all-time great as a flyweight. In a column about Tony Zale, Murray wrote that the former middleweight was a boxer-type during an early period of his career. Despite having some ring skills, Zale never would have been mistaken for Willie Pep at any time during his career.

- Chuck Johnston

Randyman wrote:

Rick Farris wrote:Motown thru the eyes of Calvin . . .


When I arrived in Detroit, I was introduced to a local studio Teamster who would be driving our 40' production van that was packed with lighting equipment and cable. The man's name was Calvin, a slender, elderly black man who was on the quiet side, choosing his words carefully when engaging in conversation, rarely speaking unless spoken to.

Something drew me to Calvin. I suspected he was a sports fan, always wearing a Detroit Tigers baseball cap. I had a feeling that Calvin just might be a boxing fan. I rarely tell people that I used to be a boxer, but somebody on my crew will usaully let it be known. One day, I approached Calvin and made the comment, "You know, Detroit has one helluva boxing history. Some great fighter's came out of the Motor City." Calvin's eyes widened and a smile came to his face. "Yes it was. Joe Louis was from Detroit."

I wanted Calvin to know that my knowledge of Detroit's boxing history went deeper than Tommy Hearns and Emmanuel Steward's top-notch Kronk stable of a few years back. I asked Calvin if he knew of the Brewster Recreation Center, where Louis began boxing and our driver immediatly came to life. "I used to swim at the Brewster Center when I was a kid, and it's still there today."

I shared my knowledge of Brewster, and how when Joe Louis was boxing amateur, there was this small kid who used to carry the future Brown Bomber's gym bag for him. That young boy's name was Walker Smith, and he would one day become the great Sugar Ray Robinson. I also told him of trainer Eddie Futch, and how he and Louis would train together, and how Futch claimed the greatest pure boxer he ever saw was former light-heavy contender, Holman Williams. Futch claims that he would rather watch Holman Williams shadow box than watch others fight.

We talked of Futch's 60's-70's welterweight, Hedgeman Lewis, who came from Detroit to make a big name for himself in L.A. And we talked of Henry Hank, and others.

However, Calvin and I shared an interest in another Detroit product beyond boxers, and that was Motown Records, founded by another California Boxing Hall of Famer, Berry Gordy Jr.

"I'm gunna take you around Detroit to a few places off the beaten path, and show you where Berry Gordy and many of his future music legends came from. I'll show you where it all started, places you won't read about, places that only we in the neighborhood know", our driver promised me. Calvin had grown up less than two blocks from the home where Berry Gordy had lived as a child, right off of 12th Street. Today that neighborhood is like an overgrown ghost town, burned out and boarded up, a sad memory of better days in Detroit.

On my only day off while in the Motor City, Calvin kept his word and picked me up at the Motor City Hotel-Casino, where our crew was lodged. A few minutes later we were parked in front of the Brewster Recreation Center, and he pointed toward one of the building's windows. "That's where the boxing gym was, that's where all the best of Detroit worked out back in the day", Calvin told me. "I don't know what is in the room today, but it ain't boxing no more." The Center was closed that Sunday, so I was unable to look in.

About fifteen minutes later we were in front of the home where Berry Gordy grew up. Today it's pretty run down, over grown with plants, looking as if the grass had not been cut in decades, and it hadn't been. The house next door had partially burned down several years back, and was just left abandoned, charred remains crumbling around a brick chimney and cement front porch. The house on the otherside was boarded up. "That's just a crack den today", Calvin explained. "These drug addicts find shelter in these abandoned houses during the winter when it's bitter cold outside. The make a fire to keep warm and often end up burning the place down."

We moved on down 12th Street to "Berry Gordy Jr. Avenue", and we turn left. A few blocks down the road we come to a small, well maintained wooden building with a big sign out front, "Hitsville U.S.A." Calvin smiled proudly and pointed to the building. "That is where Berry Gordy started Motown Records, that was his first recording studio. That's where the Surpemes, Smokey Robinson, Marvin Gaye, The Temptations, Stevie Wonder, The Four Tops,and all the rest got there start."

I mentioned to Calvin that I'd heard Gordy sold the Motown label a few years back for a conservative $100 million (It had greater value, I'd heard?). Calvin began to laugh, "That ain't bad, considering he started it all with an original investment of $500."

Today "Hitsville U.S.A. is a museum honoring the Motown legends, however, it was closed on the day we passed by."

As we drove away, Calvin pointed at an old hospital on a corner, "That's where Aretha Franklin's father worked as a doctor, he delivered my younest sister, came right to our house and delivered Geraldine right on sofa in the den."

We drove on, and as Calvin relived his memories of the Motor City, I just sat and listened. It was a special day in my life, it was a day of history, the good history of a town that's best days are behind it.

I truly loved my 15 days in Detroit. I did the lighting on the pilot for ABC's new tuesday night police drama, "Detroit 1-8-7". I could have stayed on thru April, and completed the following 22 episodes, but I was not looking forward to spending months filming outside thru the Detroit winter. I was offered a Tom Hanks-Natalie Portman feature film, "Parthanon", which will begin production in two weeks in L.A. where we will film for four months, followed by a six-week location in Greece. It was an offer too good to refuse.

I liked my brief stay in the Motor City, and I pray for the City and it's people. The City and State of Michigan are bankrupt, and there is little hope for the future in the eyes of many. I'll keep my fingers crossed for the Motor City, where I have a great new friend in Calvin.


-Rick Farris

Rick, my friend, that was straight from the heart. What a great experience! Thanks for sharing that with us.

Randy

Expug wrote:

Randyman wrote:

Rick Farris wrote:Motown thru the eyes of Calvin . . .


When I arrived in Detroit, I was introduced to a local studio Teamster who would be driving our 40' production van that was packed with lighting equipment and cable. The man's name was Calvin, a slender, elderly black man who was on the quiet side, choosing his words carefully when engaging in conversation, rarely speaking unless spoken to.

Something drew me to Calvin. I suspected he was a sports fan, always wearing a Detroit Tigers baseball cap. I had a feeling that Calvin just might be a boxing fan. I rarely tell people that I used to be a boxer, but somebody on my crew will usaully let it be known. One day, I approached Calvin and made the comment, "You know, Detroit has one helluva boxing history. Some great fighter's came out of the Motor City." Calvin's eyes widened and a smile came to his face. "Yes it was. Joe Louis was from Detroit."

I wanted Calvin to know that my knowledge of Detroit's boxing history went deeper than Tommy Hearns and Emmanuel Steward's top-notch Kronk stable of a few years back. I asked Calvin if he knew of the Brewster Recreation Center, where Louis began boxing and our driver immediatly came to life. "I used to swim at the Brewster Center when I was a kid, and it's still there today."

I shared my knowledge of Brewster, and how when Joe Louis was boxing amateur, there was this small kid who used to carry the future Brown Bomber's gym bag for him. That young boy's name was Walker Smith, and he would one day become the great Sugar Ray Robinson. I also told him of trainer Eddie Futch, and how he and Louis would train together, and how Futch claimed the greatest pure boxer he ever saw was former light-heavy contender, Holman Williams. Futch claims that he would rather watch Holman Williams shadow box than watch others fight.

We talked of Futch's 60's-70's welterweight, Hedgeman Lewis, who came from Detroit to make a big name for himself in L.A. And we talked of Henry Hank, and others.

However, Calvin and I shared an interest in another Detroit product beyond boxers, and that was Motown Records, founded by another California Boxing Hall of Famer, Berry Gordy Jr.

"I'm gunna take you around Detroit to a few places off the beaten path, and show you where Berry Gordy and many of his future music legends came from. I'll show you where it all started, places you won't read about, places that only we in the neighborhood know", our driver promised me. Calvin had grown up less than two blocks from the home where Berry Gordy had lived as a child, right off of 12th Street. Today that neighborhood is like an overgrown ghost town, burned out and boarded up, a sad memory of better days in Detroit.

On my only day off while in the Motor City, Calvin kept his word and picked me up at the Motor City Hotel-Casino, where our crew was lodged. A few minutes later we were parked in front of the Brewster Recreation Center, and he pointed toward one of the building's windows. "That's where the boxing gym was, that's where all the best of Detroit worked out back in the day", Calvin told me. "I don't know what is in the room today, but it ain't boxing no more." The Center was closed that Sunday, so I was unable to look in.

About fifteen minutes later we were in front of the home where Berry Gordy grew up. Today it's pretty run down, over grown with plants, looking as if the grass had not been cut in decades, and it hadn't been. The house next door had partially burned down several years back, and was just left abandoned, charred remains crumbling around a brick chimney and cement front porch. The house on the otherside was boarded up. "That's just a crack den today", Calvin explained. "These drug addicts find shelter in these abandoned houses during the winter when it's bitter cold outside. The make a fire to keep warm and often end up burning the place down."

We moved on down 12th Street to "Berry Gordy Jr. Avenue", and we turn left. A few blocks down the road we come to a small, well maintained wooden building with a big sign out front, "Hitsville U.S.A." Calvin smiled proudly and pointed to the building. "That is where Berry Gordy started Motown Records, that was his first recording studio. That's where the Surpemes, Smokey Robinson, Marvin Gaye, The Temptations, Stevie Wonder, The Four Tops,and all the rest got there start."

I mentioned to Calvin that I'd heard Gordy sold the Motown label a few years back for a conservative $100 million (It had greater value, I'd heard?). Calvin began to laugh, "That ain't bad, considering he started it all with an original investment of $500."

Today "Hitsville U.S.A. is a museum honoring the Motown legends, however, it was closed on the day we passed by."

As we drove away, Calvin pointed at an old hospital on a corner, "That's where Aretha Franklin's father worked as a doctor, he delivered my younest sister, came right to our house and delivered Geraldine right on sofa in the den."

We drove on, and as Calvin relived his memories of the Motor City, I just sat and listened. It was a special day in my life, it was a day of history, the good history of a town that's best days are behind it.

I truly loved my 15 days in Detroit. I did the lighting on the pilot for ABC's new tuesday night police drama, "Detroit 1-8-7". I could have stayed on thru April, and completed the following 22 episodes, but I was not looking forward to spending months filming outside thru the Detroit winter. I was offered a Tom Hanks-Natalie Portman feature film, "Parthanon", which will begin production in two weeks in L.A. where we will film for four months, followed by a six-week location in Greece. It was an offer too good to refuse.

I liked my brief stay in the Motor City, and I pray for the City and it's people. The City and State of Michigan are bankrupt, and there is little hope for the future in the eyes of many. I'll keep my fingers crossed for the Motor City, where I have a great new friend in Calvin.


-Rick Farris

Rick, my friend, that was straight from the heart. What a great experience! Thanks for sharing that with us.

Randy

Great stuff Rick.
What an experience to get a tour like that from Calvin.
Good luck on the up and coming production. Greece is gonna be a great time.
Your description of the tour given to you by Calvin of Detroit got me thinking. You saw the history and character of Detroit and had great appreciation for a very tough gritty place.
Maybe it takes a fighter to see things this way. Lots of folks wouldnt want to leave their hotel room while in "The Motor City".
Not you,you wanted to experience it. That says alot.

CNorkusJr wrote:As a former NYC firefighter, it is well known that Detroit has in its history, the "Hell"or "Devil's" Night fires which encompassed the entire city every Halloween night for decades. This is not your usual reckless burning of certain properties during riots, but rather an institutional ritual which would include dozens of random burnings throughout the night on Oct 31. It went on for years, and even with beefed up patrols could not be prevented.Many perished over the years from this event.

I think that this unfortunate blight on Detroit history has ended today, but I remember various firefighters from major cities that had off on their own time would volunteer and get to Detroit by hook or by crook to assist their "brothers" where needed.
I have not heard about the "burnings" for some time now (10 yrs ?), but mainly because there is little left to burn.
Rick,I am sure you seen many of the charred ruins blocks which still stand today.

On a different note, in my father's boxing scrapbooks, are a few articles from San Diego's Jack Murphy. Having read them a few times, I felt he had a nice old style boxing writing language. Nothing out of the ordinary, and I am not too sure if he accepted payola for the boxing bylines, but he was informative and made good points about the fighters and their up and coming West Coast bouts. Not too much fluff. I would have to assume that his credentials were noteworthy to have a stadium named after him for awhile.
His brother Bob Murphy announced many years as a NY Mets legend here in NY until he passed away. Still announcing is another California resident HOF, Ralph Kiner, who still does about a dozen color commentary casts a year for the Mets.

Chuck1052 wrote:Nat Fleischer was a very energetic individual who was in his element as an editor and publisher of Ring Magazine, boosting the sport of boxing during many decades. It is true that he was interested in the history of boxing, writing numerous books on the subject. But I must say that a number of his books were loaded with factual errors, especially his "Black Dynamite" series, which contained biographical sketches of many top black fighters who were active before the late 1930s.

The records of oldtime fighters in the early Ring Record Books often were incomplete or inaccurate. Many of such records were often culled from earlier record books, notably the ones put out by T. S. Andrews. But it is my understanding that Lew Eskin did a terrific job in making sure that the records of active fighters in the Ring Record Books ca. 1950.

- Chuck Johnston

Chuck1052 wrote:Jim Murray was a fine sportswriter, but his column contained some factual errors when the subject was boxing at times. For instance, he once wrote that Fidel La Barba was a fair featherweight as a professional fighter, but nothing about La Barba being a world champion and an all-time great as a flyweight. In a column about Tony Zale, Murray wrote that the former middleweight was a boxer-type during an early period of his career. Despite having some ring skills, Zale never would have been mistaken for Willie Pep at any time during his career.

- Chuck Johnston

Rick Farris wrote:

Chuck1052 wrote:Jim Murray was a fine sportswriter, but his column contained some factual errors when the subject was boxing at times. For instance, he once wrote that Fidel La Barba was a fair featherweight as a professional fighter, but nothing about La Barba being a world champion and an all-time great as a flyweight. In a column about Tony Zale, Murray wrote that the former middleweight was a boxer-type during an early period of his career. Despite having some ring skills, Zale never would have been mistaken for Willie Pep at any time during his career.

- Chuck Johnston

Boxing History 101 . . .

I think of a well known boxing historian who shares history by validating his stories with direct quotes from his sources (i.e. Nat Fleischer, Ring Magazine, Nov. 1932, pag 14, paragraph-3, etc.) That makes it true in the eyes of this historian, whom you know Chuck. However, many of these so called quotes are written by men with an agenda, writers who are writing things not so much out of accuracy, but to serve their purpose. This historian often quotes writers who were on the take, paid to write their views in the favor of the promoter. Murray wrote about boxing from the past, but never claimed to be a historian. His stories, for the most part, were accurate historically and written with a style that I consider second to none. I know that La Barba was best known for his brilliance at flyweight. He was an Olympic gold medalist and a great world champ. After attending Stanford and obtaining his college degree, he returned to boxing as a featherweight, and was less successful than before. I agree, La Barba should be recognized for his success prior to College. There is nothing more irritating to me than a historian who shares history based on the writings of a journalist with an agenda. Nat Fleisher's writings were often extremely biased in favor of Madison Square Garden. A great historian was Fleischer, but also one with an agenda who not always tells the history as it really was. When contemporary "historians" quote Fleischer,they are often spreading BS, not actual history.

raylawpc wrote:

Rick Farris wrote:

Chuck1052 wrote:Jim Murray was a fine sportswriter, but his column contained some factual errors when the subject was boxing at times. For instance, he once wrote that Fidel La Barba was a fair featherweight as a professional fighter, but nothing about La Barba being a world champion and an all-time great as a flyweight. In a column about Tony Zale, Murray wrote that the former middleweight was a boxer-type during an early period of his career. Despite having some ring skills, Zale never would have been mistaken for Willie Pep at any time during his career.

- Chuck Johnston

Boxing History 101 . . .

I think of a well known boxing historian who shares history by validating his stories with direct quotes from his sources (i.e. Nat Fleischer, Ring Magazine, Nov. 1932, pag 14, paragraph-3, etc.) That makes it true in the eyes of this historian, whom you know Chuck. However, many of these so called quotes are written by men with an agenda, writers who are writing things not so much out of accuracy, but to serve their purpose. This historian often quotes writers who were on the take, paid to write their views in the favor of the promoter. Murray wrote about boxing from the past, but never claimed to be a historian. His stories, for the most part, were accurate historically and written with a style that I consider second to none. I know that La Barba was best known for his brilliance at flyweight. He was an Olympic gold medalist and a great world champ. After attending Stanford and obtaining his college degree, he returned to boxing as a featherweight, and was less successful than before. I agree, La Barba should be recognized for his success prior to College. There is nothing more irritating to me than a historian who shares history based on the writings of a journalist with an agenda. Nat Fleisher's writings were often extremely biased in favor of Madison Square Garden. A great historian was Fleischer, but also one with an agenda who not always tells the history as it really was. When contemporary "historians" quote Fleischer,they are often spreading BS, not actual history.

It depends on how you define history, I suppose. It is important to differentiate history and historiography. The first refers to the events that have taken place in the past, and the second, to writing about events. To ask whether a book is historical or not is a complex question. It could refer to the intention of an author or to his success in achieving his intention. A book may intend to be historical, but not be a history textbook in the modern sense of the word. In other words, historical writing is different than a videotaped representation of the past in that it involves a historian who interprets these events for his audience. All history writing is subjective in that it owes its shape to its author’s activity in selecting, deleting and communicating material. I don’t think this subjectivity invalidates historical intention; rather, the interpreter of the historian must take into account the author’s perspective on the past. So, for example, with Nat Fleischer you have to take into account his perspective – which you correctly believe was to promote boxing at Madison Square Garden and which I believe was also to promote boxing generally (after all, he had magazines to sell worldwide). Jim Murray’s primary purpose as a columnist was to write columns that were entertaining, and would sell newspapers. But that doesn’t mean you necessarily ignore what they have written. To do that would be to throw out the baby with the bath. Buried among Nat Fleischer’s pro-boxing/pro-Madison Square Garden “BS” are some valuable historical nuggets. You just have to analysis what he has written to find it.

Rick Farris wrote:

raylawpc wrote:

Rick Farris wrote:
Boxing History 101 . . .

I think of a well known boxing historian who shares history by validating his stories with direct quotes from his sources (i.e. Nat Fleischer, Ring Magazine, Nov. 1932, pag 14, paragraph-3, etc.) That makes it true in the eyes of this historian, whom you know Chuck. However, many of these so called quotes are written by men with an agenda, writers who are writing things not so much out of accuracy, but to serve their purpose. This historian often quotes writers who were on the take, paid to write their views in the favor of the promoter. Murray wrote about boxing from the past, but never claimed to be a historian. His stories, for the most part, were accurate historically and written with a style that I consider second to none. I know that La Barba was best known for his brilliance at flyweight. He was an Olympic gold medalist and a great world champ. After attending Stanford and obtaining his college degree, he returned to boxing as a featherweight, and was less successful than before. I agree, La Barba should be recognized for his success prior to College. There is nothing more irritating to me than a historian who shares history based on the writings of a journalist with an agenda. Nat Fleisher's writings were often extremely biased in favor of Madison Square Garden. A great historian was Fleischer, but also one with an agenda who not always tells the history as it really was. When contemporary "historians" quote Fleischer,they are often spreading BS, not actual history.

It depends on how you define history, I suppose. It is important to differentiate history and historiography. The first refers to the events that have taken place in the past, and the second, to writing about events. To ask whether a book is historical or not is a complex question. It could refer to the intention of an author or to his success in achieving his intention. A book may intend to be historical, but not be a history textbook in the modern sense of the word. In other words, historical writing is different than a videotaped representation of the past in that it involves a historian who interprets these events for his audience. All history writing is subjective in that it owes its shape to its author’s activity in selecting, deleting and communicating material. I don’t think this subjectivity invalidates historical intention; rather, the interpreter of the historian must take into account the author’s perspective on the past. So, for example, with Nat Fleischer you have to take into account his perspective – which you correctly believe was to promote boxing at Madison Square Garden and which I believe was also to promote boxing generally (after all, he had magazines to sell worldwide). Jim Murray’s primary purpose as a columnist was to write columns that were entertaining, and would sell newspapers. But that doesn’t mean you necessarily ignore what they have written. To do that would be to throw out the baby with the bath. Buried among Nat Fleischer’s pro-boxing/pro-Madison Square Garden “BS” are some valuable historical nuggets. You just have to analysis what he has written to find it.

Agreed, Tom. My words relating to Nat Fleisher were not intended to discredit his writing, only to point out that things were at times slanted in favor of his agenda. With regard to a number of sports writers of eras past, false information was passed freely in a way that has altered the truth with regard to boxing history. With regard to this, Jim Murray is not guilty of such writing, however, as Chuck pointed out, he may not have represented the boxers entire career correctly.

raylawpc wrote:

Rick Farris wrote:

raylawpc wrote: It depends on how you define history, I suppose. It is important to differentiate history and historiography. The first refers to the events that have taken place in the past, and the second, to writing about events. To ask whether a book is historical or not is a complex question. It could refer to the intention of an author or to his success in achieving his intention. A book may intend to be historical, but not be a history textbook in the modern sense of the word. In other words, historical writing is different than a videotaped representation of the past in that it involves a historian who interprets these events for his audience. All history writing is subjective in that it owes its shape to its author’s activity in selecting, deleting and communicating material. I don’t think this subjectivity invalidates historical intention; rather, the interpreter of the historian must take into account the author’s perspective on the past. So, for example, with Nat Fleischer you have to take into account his perspective – which you correctly believe was to promote boxing at Madison Square Garden and which I believe was also to promote boxing generally (after all, he had magazines to sell worldwide). Jim Murray’s primary purpose as a columnist was to write columns that were entertaining, and would sell newspapers. But that doesn’t mean you necessarily ignore what they have written. To do that would be to throw out the baby with the bath. Buried among Nat Fleischer’s pro-boxing/pro-Madison Square Garden “BS” are some valuable historical nuggets. You just have to analysis what he has written to find it.

Agreed, Tom. My words relating to Nat Fleisher were not intended to discredit his writing, only to point out that things were at times slanted in favor of his agenda. With regard to a number of sports writers of eras past, false information was passed freely in a way that has altered the truth with regard to boxing history. With regard to this, Jim Murray is not guilty of such writing, however, as Chuck pointed out, he may not have represented the boxers entire career correctly.

Yes, I was not disagreeing with you either - just expanding upon your comments. All historians have an agenda.

raylawpc wrote:But I hasten to add, even Jim Murray had "an agenda." His was to sell newspapers. That meant he was selective in his writing. For example, he may have known about LaBarba's outstanding flyweight career (indeed, he may have known a lot about it), but he chose instead to write about LaBarba's featherweight activities because that's where the more interesting story lay. - a story his readers would find interesting and, thus, would buy newspapers to read.

Rick Farris wrote:

raylawpc wrote:But I hasten to add, even Jim Murray had "an agenda." His was to sell newspapers. That meant he was selective in his writing. For example, he may have known about LaBarba's outstanding flyweight career (indeed, he may have known a lot about it), but he chose instead to write about LaBarba's featherweight activities because that's where the more interesting story lay. - a story his readers would find interesting and, thus, would buy newspapers to read.

I was always partial to Jim Murray's column when it came to boxing. However, I loved what he'd write about USC Football when the trojans were at their best. I remember an article he wrote when top reanked Oklahoma came west to take on the Trojans at the Coliseum. It was the early 80's if I remember correctly, and SC's tailback was a senior named Marcus Allen. I attended the game with my wife with tickets Bob Seagren had been given but couldn't use. Great seats, Oklahoma favored and when my wife and I walked across Figuroa Street to the Coliseum, the OK crowd was rowdy. The walked proud, with their chests puffed out, cocky what they were going to do with SC in their front yard. After Marcus Allen ran over Oklahoma, thru them, around them for TD's and lots of yards, USC sent Oklahoma home with a loss. I recall as we crossed Figuroa on our way back to our car, we saw the OK fans, their red caps and T-Shirts, walking down Fig with a shell-shocked look in their faces.

I couldn't wait to read Murray. Something told me he'd comment on the deflated Okies. If I remember correctly, he did.
Tom, no disrespect toward Oklahoma as my beloved grandfather was an Okie.

However, Murray was at his best when the Trojans faced Ohio State in the Rose Bowl. It was back in the early 70's. Woody Hayes was OSU's head coach. John McKay was the Trojans leader.
Murray would describe the Buckeye fans who made the journey to Pasadena as a "strange lot". He wrote, you could always tell the Buckeye fans, they all sat in a little sction on the far end of the stadium, their hair parted in the middle, anxiously looking thru the crowd, hoping to see Bessie Love, or the Gish Sisters walk thru the crowd. He could be classicly brutal, and he did it with so much class you never took it that way.

I loved it, he was on the right side when it came to local coverage.