round 11
round 11
round 11
cooling off at the gym with arthur moore after
the big fights, the next day.
all right, go ahead!
"when it comes to boxing, big-time boxing...."
i ran to the refrigerator to get myself another can of diet pepsi, because it sounded like arthur moore had finally decided to give me his big story, and much, much more.
he had been sitting over there, so quiet and so cool, but today he was ready to let it fly. i am in center field, with my tape-recorder in my right hand ready to go up in the stands and take this home-run away from him.
so, here he is, arthur moore, the greatest guy that i have ever met, telling me about the history of black boxing
in chicago, and his plans to save the world, especially blacks and jews. we were talking about a picture that he was showing me from his records which larry amadee left for him from jack blackburn's funeral, which i was holding. i'll let him describe the picture, which is one of the greatest pieces of sports memorabilia that i have ever seen.
"boxing at its best, this is the king of all-time, joe louis," arthur said. "the king of all of them.
"now, this was the funeral of jack blackburn, joe louis' trainer. the second greatest trainer that ever lived. the greatest trainer that ever lived was his pall-bearer, larry amadee, al capone's man. larry trained seven champions -- beau jack, john henry lewis, young jack thomas, johnny bratton. he trained bob montgomery, champion, and hal day, and, of course, joe louis," arthur said, with power and assurance.
he described the picture.
"this is mr. wirtz. mr. wirtz owned the stadium. mr. wirtz owned the blackhawks. his son owns the stadium now. mr. wirtz and jim norris wanted to get into boxing. this is it. this is history!" arthur said. "they wanted to get into
boxing. jim norris, one of the richest men in the world. his daddy was from canada. grain people. millionaires! they was partners with wirtz. jim norris owned the stadium in detroit and st. louis. jim norris, multi-millionaire! his daddy died and left him all that money."
"white guy?" i asked.
"white, you better believe he was white," black moses moore said.
"did you know mr. wirtz' first name?"
"arthur wirtz. i'm pretty sure, that was his name. that's his name, arthur wirtz. now, his son is the one who owns the stadium now. he left it to his son."
i asked, "what is his name?"
"william, i believe, isn't it?" arthur wondered.
"all right," i said, "bill wirtz, that sounds familiar."
"they owned the stadium. they owned the blackhawks. they owned the bulls."
i just let arthur go, even though everyone knows jerry riensdorf and others own the champion bulls, but maybe wirtz did own the bulls years ago. that sounded right to me, but anyway, i let him go.
why let a small discrepancy interfere with the story, i thought to myself. a small mistake on one of our behalves. such is life.
"now, this first guy on the left is a police sergeant, sergeant nelson, bodyguard for joe louis." arthur tried to explain the picture. "sergeant nelson is a partner of truman gibson, and they controlled boxing for the international boxing club. arthur wirtz and norris were the presidents. that's how they got into boxing."
"who is this?" i asked arthur.
"this is joe louis' manager, john roxborough."
i said, "this is joe louis right here."
arthur said, "this is joe louis, champion of the world at that time."
"what year was that?"
"had to be about nineteen forty or forty-one, about forty-one. had to be. the war was still going on."
"the man standing to the right of the champ?"
arthur couldn't immediately remember. "ahhh...oh, lord. what's this guy's name? he was in politics. i'll think of it, a little later on. but the next guy is larry amadee, joe louis' trainer. the one in the casket, jack blackburn, and the one standing, larry amadee were joe louis' trainers."
"that's your man, right?" i asked.
"that's my man," arthur said. "this is the man, the reason i'm here now, is because of larry amadee."
"right," i said.
"this is the man," arthur repeated of his old mentor. "next is some dignitary. i don't know who he was though, some big shot. see what i mean. now, this is the man that put arthur wirtz in business, joe louis. and wirtz put jim norris in business, into the international boxing club...."
that darn bell keeps ringing in the background here at fuller park.
i asked, "joe louis was from chicago, right?"
"joe louis was born...born in alabama, raised in detroit. they sent him here, and chicago made him! he turned pro."
"who made him," i asked politely, "wirtz and norris?"
arthur said, "wait a minute, no...."
someone was working the speedbag, and it was getting kind of hard for me to hear.
arthur said, "george trafton from notre dame. george halas' man. the chicago bears. george trafton and george halas invented pro football in steger, illinois. they came to chicago in about nineteen twenty to wrigley field. george trafton owned a gym downtown. george trafton helped joe louis, and made him into a pro."
"what was the name of that gym?" i asked.
"trafton gym," arthur said. "one eighty-eight randolph, in front of the bismarck, right across from city hall. you know where it is. you were there."
"i'll put that in the book," i said.
"you were there to work in the corner at the bismarck."
"that was my first time," i said.
"first time. right across the street from george trafton's. this was in the thirties," arthur continued. "george trafton played for knute rockne. center, center for the bears. one of the greatest centers that ever lived, george trafton."
"who was the greatest center that ever lived?" i asked, because arthur had peeked my curiosity.
"the greatest center that ever lived was a young man from texas by the name of bulldog turner."
"what team was he on?" i asked.
"chicago bears," arthur sang.
"what year?"
"in the thirties."
"before or after trafton?" i asked.
"after trafton. trafton was in the twenties. but trafton and halas invented pro football. this is history! then joe louis retired, but these two made joe louis."
we were still looking at the picture.
arthur said, "amadee and jack blackburn made joe louis, the greatest that ever lived. the greatest boxing machine that ever lived was joe louis, a champion!"
i said, "he (herman was sitting there listening to all
of this) fought on all his cards."
arthur said, "he fought on some of them."
"some of them?" i asked.
"joe louis was champion of the world for twelve years, defended his title twenty-five times."
i said, "he had twenty knockouts."
arthur said, "i don't know how many knockouts he had, but he defended his title twenty-five times."
i decided to use the same question that i used about the greatest centers in football, and see how much more information i could get out of old arthur in regards to the greatest boxers of all-time. although, it seemed repetitive at times, i thought it was quite enjoyable and entertaining, as i picked hard and long into this old dinosaurs mind. i found out that arthur really is a walking encyclopedia in this great sport of boxing, and many other things. maybe that's why his last name is moore, because he certainly did give me more on this day. i hope you enjoy this. i did.
if you would like to take a quick look at arthur's complete list of boxing's top fifteen of all-time, you can look at the last page of this book, because this is going to take a little time, and might get a bit too confusing for most of you. i know he tested my journalistic skills.
i asked, "who was the second greatest fighter of all-time?"
"the second greatest fighter that ever lived was jack johnson."
"who was the third?" i asked.
"the third, i'd have to say, ray robinson."
"fourth?"
"the fourth, i'd have to say, henry armstrong. the only man in history to hold three titles at one time. won the fourth, but they called it a draw! he weighed one hundred twenty-six pounds."
"what year was that?" i asked arthur.
"in the thirties."
"and what was his name again?"
"henry armstrong," he said.
that blasted bell kept ringing.
i asked, "where did he fight out of?"
"st. louis."
"did you know him?"
"knowed him. he knew him. i knew him. knew him like a book!"
"nice guy?" i asked.
"nice, he was a preacher. don't come any better. a gentleman who was hailed by the movie stars. he went to california."
"which movie stars?"
"george raft."
"who?"
"george raft, the great movie star."
"raft?"
"raft," arthur answered.
"r-a-f-t," i said.
"r-a-f-t," arthur spelled. "did you ever see him in the movies?"
"maybe," i said, laughing to hide my embarrassment. "george raft, and a great singer, the first jazz singer back in the thirties. what was that guy's name, mills, that had the black face?"
after a moment of contemplation, herman said, "al jolson."
"al jolson," arthur screamed. arthur's got it stuck in high gear now, as he screamed, "al jolson," but he had to put it in neutral for a second to answer the phone, although he was still singing and screaming, "al jolson...al jolson."
i asked herman, "did you ever fight on armstrong's cards?"
herman muttered, "four rounds."
i said, "you fought him for four rounds?"
"no, no, no, no, not him, but on the card. i was fighting somebody else. i fought on a lot of cards. after joe louis come out of the service, i was on all his cards when he was boxing exhibitions. you see, i boxed on every
card when they sent him around fighting exhibitions."
"what year was that?"
"that was back in forty...forty-six."
"that was when you moved to chicago?"
"oh no...no, no, i had moved to chicago in forty," herman said.
arthur came back and shifted it into high gear again. i can tell his engine was still overheating.
he said, "you see, that was before me. i came here in nineteen forty-one to the trafton gym downtown."
"looking for larry amadee," i said.
"looking for larry amadee, from laurel, mississippi."
"how many weeks were you in chicago before you found him?"
"one week. i found him in one week."
"that's why you came here?" i asked.
"mostly," arthur said.
"were you married?"
"single. i was only a kid. i was about twenty-years-old."
"how old were you when you got married?" i asked.
"oh, i was over thirty when i got married. this was way before that! looking for larry amadee, i came here and found him at the trafton gym."
"so, you tell me this is the roots of chicago's black
boxing?"
"this is, this is, this is, this is the...." arthur paused to get his thoughts together and said, "it's not the root, because boxing was here before these guys got here."
"i'm talking about black boxing," i said.
"jack johnson is the root of it," arthur said. "jack johnson came here in the early nineteen hundreds from memphis, tennessee. jack johnson was born in galveston, texas. he worked on the docks."
"where at?"
"on the docks in texas. unloading boats, and on the weekends, they'd box. he was fifteen-years-old. that's what he told me. fifteen-years-old, and he would beat all of those seamen. and some white fella seen him, and made him a pro, and took him to memphis, tennessee. that's where he really learned to box. he could fight, but not box," arthur said.
"did you know jack johnson?"
"close friend, close friend."
"okay, now we had the fourth greatest fighter of all-time, who was?" i asked arthur, because although my tape-
recorder has a perfect memory, mine is very, very limited. thus the first of our list, that we are compiling together as arthur recapped them.
"joe louis, jack johnson, ray robinson, and henry armstrong."
"who's fifth?" i asked.
"i'd have to say they were a tie. ali and jack dempsey."
"a tie?"
"yeah, shoot, they were both champions."
"they were equal?"
"equal," arthur assured me.
"okay, we got five and six." i was beginning to feel like a dentist pulling teeth and said, "i am in charge here now, who was next?"
arthur said, "benny leonard."
"who?"
arthur got funny on me and said, "joe gans and benny leonard."
"joe?" i asked.
"joe gans," he answered.
"how do you spell that?"
"g-a-n-s! joe gans. he was the first master boxer, the first."
i said, "there's a picture of him over there in that
pile.
"that's right," arthur confirmed.
"but you said another guy over there in that pile of pictures was a master too?" i asked.
"that was homer williams, but joe gans was the first master, at least that's what nat fleischer said, of the ring magazine. he said, 'joe gans was the first master boxer.' lightweight champion, joe gans."
"what year?"
"about nineteen, somewhere around nineteen-o-five, back there," arthur said.
i want to take this time to remind you, the reader, that these are not necessarily the exact facts, but they are as close to precise as arthur's memory can remember, which may not be the best in the world, but they should be good enough for us.
remember this book is my story, and there may be some inaccuracies in it, but we are doing the best that we can. the only reason i said that now is because i am not sure about the date arthur just gave me for joe gans. i personally think joe was a little after that, but i sure the heck wasn't around back then. but, it is amazing to me, though, how quickly arthur had the answers to these tough questions.
i asked, "where was joe gans from?"
"baltimore, maryland," he said. "that's the man that helped make jack johnson. that is who jack copied off of, joe gans. he copied his style."
maybe arthur was right though about joe gans. he sure sounded convincing enough to me.
"what kind of defense did jack johnson have?" i asked.
arthur said, "the greatest defense of any heavyweight that ever lived! defense. and, he had a great offense, but he was the greatest defensive fighter that ever lived. they said joe gans was a master. i don't know, but larry amadee didn't see joe gans way back in nineteen ten. he was too young."
"okay, besides joe, who was the other guy you said?" i asked.
"what, great? ohhh, joe gans and benny leonard."
"leonard?"
"benny leonard was from new york. didn't come any greater. pound for pound, didn't come any better!" arthur said.
"what year?"
"around in the twenties. i don't know the year he was
champion, but it was in the twenties. he retired in the thirties, but he was a champion in the twenties. benny leonard. now," arthur said, "i can't name them all now...."
his memory was slipping.
he said, "you see, when you name the twelve greatest of all-time. i know the greatest, but you have to make it twelve. i use to make it ten, but there were two more that i had to add on. they were too great to leave out."
"okay, now we have seven great ones. who's eight?" i asked.
"oh, i'd have to think of who all them other guys are, but there are twelve," he said.
i cut my tape recorder off for awhile to give arthur a chance to get his list together, because this was getting good.
five minutes later, i said, "let's start over again?"
arthur "black moses" moore said he had got them and started. "joe louis, jack johnson, ray robinson, henry armstrong, muhammad ali, jack dempsey, joe gans, benny leonard, barney ross. how many is that?"
"eight." although it is actually nine.
we cut the machine off again for a few more minutes and he came up with number ten and eleven.
he said, "sam langford and homer williams, joe louis' friend from detroit. a master boxer, homer williams, an
uncrowned champion."
we turned the recorder off for awhile again and when arthur was ready, we turned it back on.
"i'm gonna tell ya, i'm gonna call 'em, i'm gonna bring 'em to you just like they are," he said, quite confidently, as his memory and perseverance amazed me. "these are the twelve greatest that ever lived."
he has his brain locked in gear again. "nobody was greater...joe louis, jack johnson, ray robinson, henry armstrong, barney ross, sam langford (who has made a big jump up in the standings), muhammad ali, jack dempsey...."
some ghetto rap music started playing in the background and threw ol' arthur off again.
i said, "barney ross."
arthur said, "i got barney ross, too."
finally, he said, "gorilla jones. that's mae west's man. gorilla jones, a middleweight champ in the thirties. mae west was his manager. a big movie star. and...tiger flowers. that should be twelve," he said awkwardly.
"what year was tiger flowers?" i asked.
"in the twenties. a champion."
i asked, "black or white?"
arthur said, "black, the first black to win the middleweight championship."
i asked, "are all of them black?" i knew that jack
dempsey was white.
arthur said forgetfully, "all of them were black!"
"where was tiger from?" i asked.
"from atlanta, georgia. the other was gorilla jones, a middleweight champion from memphis, tennessee. sam langford was a light-heavyweight champion from british columbia. joe gans, a lightweight champion, the master boxer. benny leonard, a lightweight champion, a master boxer. muhammad ali, the great man. jack dempsey, one of the greatest. barney ross, one of the greatest welterweights that ever lived."
"what year?" i asked.
"in the thirties. then comes jack johnson. then comes ahh, henry armstrong, ray robinson, jack johnson, and joe louis."
arthur was running out of gas, and i was running out of patience and sanity on this one. i will write this list down on paper later.
i asked arthur, "who are really, the top twelve fighters?"
i am so confused now that i am not sure if joe louis was first or last, but it's no big thing, because "scoop will get the poop."
i didn't want to interrupt arthur, because he had been so cooperative today, and he was doing the best that he could with what he's got left. considering he was going back to the nineteen hundreds, i would have to say that he certainly knew his stuff, and he ought to be very proud. now, he was going to tell us the boxers he personally knew, which i also thought was most impressive.
"joe louis, i knew. jack johnson, i knew. ray robinson, i knew. henry armstrong, i knew. and barney ross were the only great ones that i knew. the rest of them, i didn't know." arthur had overlooked muhammad ali, but we'll get to that in awhile. "larry amadee knew them all, except one, joe gans. he never did see him."
"after twleve, in your opinion, give me three more names to round out the top fifteen," i asked of arthur.
"marvin hagler, sugar ray leonard...."
"where was hagler from?" i asked, because i knew by now that i couldn't get three straight names from him without some kind of problem.
a writer's job is never easy! i guess, i could of edited everything, and made arthur sound like bill clinton or somebody else, but i am very amazed by these tapes. they let us get into the man's mind and pick away, understand how
he talks and his personality.
he said, "hagler is from connecticut."
i asked about sugar ray leonard's home base.
"he fought out of baltimore, maryland."
i am repeating these names, because it kind of gives you a chance to become familiar with all these great names from boxing's past, most of which are foreign to me, also.
i admit i didn't know anything about boxing before i came to fuller park, but i do believe that this was the greatest sports project i will ever go on. i hope never to work this hard again to get the whole story, but i am determined not to quit this project until i get it all, or at least, as much as i can.
i certainly know more about boxing than i ever thought i would. i just thought it was a sport where you try to knock the other guy's head off, but it sure has a great and illustrious history. although i have been reading some books lately about the violence and the riots that this sport has generated outside the ring, and the fact of the matter is, that in the early days, this sport appealed to mostly poor people looking for a means of survival. the sport has mirrored society and it's troubles.
i found out that it is much more dangerous than i ever thought. a lot of fighters were actually killed boxing, in days gone by. but today's fighting is very different.
i don't like the way the sports writers of the past
described the brutality of it all, but the participants really sounded like tough, mean men, as was society as a whole.
today's boxers are very different. it's much more a money business. i don't like that either, but all things being what they are, i still think it's a tremendous sport to casually enjoy. i still really don't think that i truly understand what it was all about, nor do i care to find out and write about it.
i am trying to put a positive light on this sport and the people in it. they are real people. the ones that i have met are all sincere, hard working, nice people. it's a funny sport, though, to try and totally understand.
back to arthur, who was still going at it strong.
he said, "hagler, leonard, well...hagler, leonard...." he searched his tremendous database and came up with, "well, it's a toss-up. oh, i'd have to say, willy pep."
"pip?" i asked, because sometimes arthur's pronunciation leaves something to be desired.
he said, "pep, p-e-p, one of the greatest featherweights that ever lived."
"what year?" i asked.
"in the forties and fifties."
"what town?
"hartford, connecticut."
"i've been there," i said. a story for another time!
"what a fighter, willy pep. beautiful," arthur said and shook his head.
i asked arthur, "you've traveled around the country?"
"no, i ain't never been anywhere."
"nowhere?" i asked laughing, finding it a little strange that this man was so unique.
"nowhere, but chicago. never been anywhere in fifty-five years. i ain't never been anywhere, but right here."
"right," i said. "you just work 'em in the gyms?"
"well, i had a lot of bad luck."
"how many have you trained as a corner man?" i asked.
"none of those great fighters!"
"do you have a license now?"
"i have a license, yep. i've been licensed for fifty years."
"what's frank the commissioner's last name?"
"frank...oh, man."
"that's the guy i have to go downtown and see," i said.
arthur said, "he's my friend. i knew him when he was a youngster. he was a big promoter. an italian!"
"a promoter, too?" i asked.
"look," arthur said, "him and al james and me, we started off together. at least, i was ahead of him, you
know. frank was over there at the coulon gym, and then frank was a promoter. he came through mr. coulon's, but he knew them all. i made my first trip to coulon's gym in nineteen forty, nineteen forty...three."
i was reading a death notice on the wall of "kitchen's corner," getting ready to call it a day, after all this interesting information that i had gathered during this session, however, i read about a guy named freddy dawson, a name i hadn't heard mentioned before, and i am all over this. it's another great story that will lead to many more revealing inside details about some of the most famous fighters that ever lived.
i asked arthur, the fuller park answer man, "who was freddy?"
"freddy dawson, one of the all-time greatest in chicago. what a fighter he was," arthur said.
the obituary read: freddy dawson elston was born january 28th, 1924 in thomasville, arkansas.
"right, arkansas," arthur said.
the son of leonard elston, and mary hood slater.
"what a fighter," arthur echoed.
as a young boy, he moved to chicago, illinois, where he resided most of his life to the fullest. in forty-five, freddy married annabelle brooks and of this union, two children were born. freddy was active in his community
where he pursued a professional boxing career which was very good to him. freddy fought for the lightweight championship of the world in forty-eight, which he barely lost. he was very instrumental in training future boxers and molding young lives in the chicago area.
freddy made many friends along the road of life, and he
will be missed by many. freddy departed this life on june 7th, 1992 at 3 p.m. he leaves to cherish his memory his mother mary slater of zion, illinois, two daughters, diane mccannon of los angeles, california, and karen merritt of chicago, illinois, one son, freddy d. elston of fresno, california, two sisters, barbara wright of zion, illinois, and loretta anglin of chicago, illinois, eight grandchildren and a host of other relatives and friends. grave site service and burial at national cemetery, in riverside, california.
"but he could fight?" i asked arthur.
"ooohhh," arthur screamed.
i thought he had a toothache and laughed my head off.
he said, "the only somebody who was a little bit better
than freddy, was barney ross in chicago. oh, he was great."
i said, "right."
"he was great. oh, boy!"
i accidentally changed the subject without telling arthur. i asked him, "what did vinny letizia die of?"
but arthur wasn't paying any attention, because he had his mind on freddy. he thought that i had asked him how freddy died and here is what he said, "he drank. he use to drink.
"on fifty-first and cottage grove, some winehead knocked him in the head. they thought he was dead, but it didn't kill him. it messed his mind up. his daughter is a movie star in california. she took him to california and he stayed there until he died."
"vinny letizia?" i asked, realizing that arthur was still talking about freddy dawson.
"i don't know the girls name...." arthur said. he was still going on.
i said, "i thought vinny was a young guy."
"no, i'm talking about freddy dawson," arthur said.
we finally got back on the same page.
"vinny was an up-and-coming young fighter. he got killed in a motorcycle accident." arthur didn't sound quite so sure of himself.
"okay, dawson died, and he was an alcoholic," i said, as i wanted to hear more of the scoop about alcoholics in boxing. i wondered what arthur was going to say next.
"freddy was an alcoholic."
"that's what i'm looking for," i said.
"dawson was great."
"how many other alcoholics were fighters that you know?"
"all of 'em drank."
"problem drinkers?"
"all of 'em drank."
"problem drinkers?" i asked again.
"they weren't alcoholics."
"who were, any of them?"
"freddy was an alcoholic, later. ahh, he's the only one that i would consider alcoholic, that would drink. barney and all of 'em, were almost alcoholics."
i broke out laughing at arthur's description of an almost alcoholic. that's like being a little bit pregnant, i thought to myself.
"barney ross...heavy drinker. tony zale wasn't. ah, jack johnson wasn't. ray robinson wasn't a heavy drinker. henry armstrong was a beer alcoholic, a beer drinker."
i laughed again and thought to myself, i'll bet he couldn't out drink me.
"he drank more beer, he and homer williams drank more beer than any fighter i ever heard of. homer williams,
whooo...," as arthur sounded like an owl for the very first time, "and henry armstrong drank more beer than any fighter that ever lived."
"any fighters drink before the fights, do you think?"
"a lot of 'em would do it."
"before the fights?"
"a lot of 'em would do it before the fights, a lot of them would."
we were getting to some serious inside stuff here.
"a lot of them would do it," arthur said. "most of 'em drank some. ray robinson, i never seen drink. joe louis drank a little bit, but he like the reefers, and he got hooked on a...cocaine. i mean to say, a...heroin. i don't think cocaine was famous then."
arthur made his most famous quote of this book.
"joe got hooked on the night life. there's no telling where he got hooked. he was into the night life."
"joe louis?"
"yeah, joe louis."
"i'll bet that was never written about either."
i bet old joe turned over in his grave and was dying to put his hands around arthur's neck for telling on him.
"he was hooked, and a lot of people didn't know it." arthur said. "all right...when he went to california, frank sinatra loved him. frank took him into his house. he
stayed with frank until he got a place in california, when he first went out there to live." he was starting to sound like the national enquirer.
"ray robinson, frank loved. richard burton and elizabeth taylor were their friends also. but ray stayed with frank too, when he went to california. frank loved both of them. he loved joe! he got joe a job at caesar's palace as a meeter/greeter. joe louis had a bad heart. he use to wrestle and the doctor stopped him."
"didn't he have a milk company too?" i asked.
"he had a milk company, the joe louis milk company. they just used his name. he got money for his name."
"he ended up dying broke, or what?"
"he wasn't broke, but he wasn't rich. he went through money like...like water."
i broke out laughing again.
arthur said, "joe louis and larry amadee didn't care nothing about money."
"okay, when ali made his comeback, who did he fight?" i asked, trying to answer all the unanswered questions that i had from my past days at the park.
"wait a minute. hold it." arthur then asked the young man that had just come through the door and sat down next to us, "hey, james, who did ali win his title from? who was champion?"
"ah, sonny liston," james said. "sonny liston, he took the title back from sonny liston. ali had it and the government stripped him of it. when they reinstated him, he won the title back from sonny liston. muhammad ali."
"and you knew him pretty well?" i asked.
"from a baby!" arthur said.
"from a baby?"
arthur added, "from sixteen-years-old."
"did he drink?"
"not that much. he drank a little bit. mr. smith brought him to chicago. muhammad ali, the great ali! he was an amateur fighter. he was a golden gloves champion."
"who was mr. smith? a sportswriter at the tribune or what?"
"mr. smith was a sportswriter for the tribune."
"sam smith?"
"ah...his name was...ah...what was his name, wendell smith? i believe it was," arthur said.
"what was it?" i asked.
"i believe it was wendell smith. he was a writer."
"first name?"
"i believe mr. smith's name, i believe it was wendell."
"william," i said.
i was having a hard time hearing arthur, and i tried to see if i could talk him out of believing wendell smith's
name was wendell.
arthur said, "wendell or william, something like that. i use to know his name."
"wendell smith," i said strongly, because i felt sorry for a man that said he use to know another man's name, but can't remember it anymore. i do, in fact, remember wendell smith, because i know there is a public school on 103rd and cottage grove named after him, right next to gately stadium where many high school football games are played in chicago. i remember when they renamed the school after wendell smith died. wendell smith was a sports writer at the sun-times.
arthur did what i thought he would do. he changed his mind about wendell smith's first name and said, "maybe."
"he was a writer. a very big guy! he was on tv too, on wgn." i said.
arthur said, "i don't know, but maybe so, but he ran the golden gloves."
"the tribune did charity work. they invented the golden gloves in nineteen twenty-seven. barney ross was the first golden gloves champion, either featherweight or lightweight champion."
"a lot of boxers got their start in the golden gloves?" i asked.
"in the golden gloves, a lot of them did."
"what time is it?"
i was ready to get the heck out of here after all this wonderful information that arthur has given me. my tape- recorder was smoking. we had used almost two-thirds of a side of tape on the day's stories. i enjoyed them and am glad i brought my toy back again, and decided to do these last two rounds.
i agreed to bring my tape-recorder back again tomorrow for the very last time, because arthur said he had something really important to show me and he wanted to tell me some other things.
i can hardly wait, because this better be good, and i can wrap this book up with a question, a problem, and an attempt to find a solution for what we can do to save america, and help all the people of this fine country.
arthur and i are going to put our heads together, and come up with a plan. so, i'll see you right here tomorrow after i catch up on my sleep, and then go back and visit arthur again at fuller park for one last time on that forty-seventh street limousine.
sixteen hours later...
i am back again, and feeling feisty, because i have just returned from fuller park for my last time, where i talked with my old pals, arthur moore and herman mills. i had a very good time, as usual.
we will still be friends after today, but i won't be over there to write anymore for this story. so, here is what arthur said to me when i cornered him outside in the courtyard, away from the guys. we talked about our big plans and what we wanted to accomplish.
"this ain't about no book," he said.
"okay," i said, "this is off the record."
arthur said, "this is something else. now, ah, what i want you to work on, now. i got the greatest story, and what i want you to do, you may not be able to do it, you see, but i'll get it one day, but if i could get it earlier, it would be a big help, because...i'm trying to hook oprah on a fund-raiser. oprah.
"see, i got letters from oprah. i got letters from the president's wife. i got letters from the president. now, what i am getting ready to do...."
i stood there letting the man have his day in the sun.
"now, the sun-times said i'm the best in the business. they called me a genius. i'll show you the paper. all right now," arthur said. "now, this is going to be hard, but it's something good for you to work on, because it's worth, maybe, at least fifteen thousand dollars for you and a writer!"
i thought to myself, what does he think i am, a freak or something? i'm certainly worth more than a lousy fifteen thousand, but i am not going to say anything for once in my life and instead just listen for a change.
"it's not going to be easy, you see. i couldn't get no paper to do it now, because you see, the paper don't know anything about me," arthur said. "all right, now, i'm a fifty year man, over a fifty year man, and i was with the greatest of them all, larry amadee. all right, at one time, i had all the good fighters. if it wasn't for bad luck, i wouldn't have no luck and i lost all of them. if it wasn't for bad luck, i wouldn't have no luck."
i was having a hard time keeping a straight face, as i realized this guy must be nuts, and so am i for trying to write this story, and put it all together.
but i will say one thing! we were both trying very hard, and that's all you can ask of a person, is an honest effort.
arthur continued, "i got a story that nobody in the world have a story like this. nobody! i had muhammad ali, sonny liston, jimmy ellis, ernie terrell, four champions.
"it was bad luck. i didn't have enough money and all that. now, i've lost, maybe, a billion dollars in talent that i could of made, if i could of gotten any kind of help. i could of been the boss of boxing in three years.
"now... now, i got a program that i think will save america. it'll save the blacks. it'll save america, and it will save the jews. that's a three-point thing...blacks, america, and the jews," arthur said.
i didn't have a clue about what he was talking about.
"now, i am the only trainer that is getting ready to develop a champion, and give all the money away. everything i earn, i'll give away. this is the greatest religious country on earth, and i work for god.
"now, i got a story, you see, and there is no way that the newspaper will do it. they will do all this here, after i hit the top, you see what i mean, but what the heck, i won't need it then," arthur said.
i said, "i am going to help you get there."
i encouraged him to speak his mind.
"now, if you...nobody knows me," arthur said as he tried to get his thoughts together. "you wouldn't have known me, if you hadn't come here. you wouldn't of known anything of what i could do, if you hadn't come down here. it's just one of those things, you see. now, nobody, and i mean nobody...."
arthur was distracted for a moment by a young man walking by and he said, "what's up there, champ?"
he got right back to the story and said, "nobody on this earth, knows boxing like i do. nobody! you ask ray sons of the sun-times."
i broke in and said, "i know him."
arthur said, "he's a master."
"right."
"buddy, he's some writer."
"i know."
"he's the best. now, nobody knows boxing like i do. ray sons knows. he's one of the few fellas that knows, but as far as the sun-times is concerned, they would never do the story.
"now, they will do the story someday, when i get on top, but you see, the mayor gave me a million dollar building, but i could never put a fund-raiser together to get it started."
"mayor daley?" i asked.
"mayor daley, the one who is in there now. he gave me a million dollar building at twenty-second and indiana," arthur admitted.
"all right, all i had to do was have the money to run it, but i never could get a fund-raiser together," he lamented.
"now, all of the rich people; all of the rich and famous; all of them, every alderman in the city; all of the cubs; all of the white sox; and all of the bears, never could get any...and all of the bulls...let me put them in there too, never...could get any help. now, i still got the best story in the world, not only is it the best, but it's a
true story."
"right," i said.
arthur said, "you see what i mean? it's a story. it's the greatest story in the world, but it's a true story.
arthur repeated himself and i just wrote it as it was told to me.
"now, if, you see ahh, i couldn't go to the sun-times, because they don't know who i am," arthur said sadly. "they have no idea, see what i mean? they have no idea what i can do, see what i mean! now, i got trophies in there."
arthur noticed a lady getting ready to take our picture on this sunshiny, beautiful day and said, "i got trophies up there in the front. did you ever see them?"
"all right, that is what i do for the park, see what i mean." arthur started to acknowledge the lady with the camera and said, "well, there's a young lady! taking pictures today? all right, how is everything?"
i said, "take one of me, so everyone can see my beautiful face.
"this is pat. do you know pat?" apparently she didn't, because arthur said, "you don't know pat? well, get his picture! you got it? all right."
i said, "i am writing a book here."
"she works for the park. she takes care of all kinds of programs. she got a good job, working for the parks.
now, now...."
i interrupted him and said, "are you going to tell me the story? is there something you haven't told me yet?"
"no, but this here, isn't for a book."
"right."
"this here isn't for a book. this here is something...."
i broke in again and began to go to work on him. "then how are we going to go about getting this off the ground, if i can't put it in the book?"
"wait," arthur said. "you see, here's the thing about it. you already got a lot of stuff for your book, you see what i mean."
i quickly said, "you see, right now we're in chapter eleven."
"yeah," arthur nodded.
"i was only going to write ten chapters, but after you gave me all that great information about the top fifteen fighters, and then the drinkers and all that. you know to me, that was so interesting," i said, "that i had to go on, and keep writing! so i am going to write twelve chapters."
arthur was like silly putty in my hands.
"right now we are in chapter eleven, and if there is something you want to tell me about your plans, what you want to do, you better tell me, because, like you said,
'this book is going to sell.'"
i looked arthur right straight, dead in his eyes, and i told him that this was his opportunity, if he wanted to tell me something.
he said, "the book is gonna sell."
"this is our sled," i said. "you're on the sled, right now."
arthur repeated himself, "the book is gonna sell."
"if you want to get your program going, we're gonna have to...."
"the reason i am telling you all this, is because i know you can visit the sun-times. you can talk to people. now," arthur said, "they would never do a story for me."
"sure they will," i told arthur, understandingly.
"but, they'll do one later, when i hit the top. but, that will be later, but they won't do it now, you see what i mean? the sun-times won't do one now. it's worth a lot of money," he said.
carl fowler walked up toward us and said, "fuller park, profile of boxing."
obviously a new suggestion for the name of this book.
i asked, "new name?"
arthur said, "that's a new name that he thought of."
carl repeated it, "fuller park, profile of boxing."
then he quickly, all of a sudden, walked away, as he
realized that i was interviewing arthur. i really didn't want to be bothered by him at this moment. he could tell that i was not to keen about the new name.
arthur said, "well, that's pretty good. that's a pretty good name, what he's talking about."
i was getting mad, because i had already made up my mind what the name of this book would be called. i said, "i'm doing, boxing at chicago's fuller park. the same thing."
arthur took a second to think about it and said, "same thing though. same thing." he agreed with me, and said, "you see, he's a school teacher, you know! he's got different ideas about things. he's a school teacher."
i tried to get us back to what we were talking about.
arthur said, "now...."
i interrupted him again, probably because i was losing my patience and asked, "how much more time do you think you have in your life, before you get to the top?" i was trying to remind him that he wasn't going to live forever.
"well, here's the thing about it! i've been after it a long time, and i feel i am going to make it this year. of course, if i don't get the story, it ain't gonna make no difference," arthur conceded.
i agreed with him, and reminded him that he is a good and humble man.
but arthur kept insisting, "i am going to make it this year because you see, i am trying to bring oprah's boyfriend in.
"you see, i am going to develop a good fighter, that i figure is gonna make a champion, and i am going to bring steadman in, you see, and when i hook him, then i am gonna hook oprah! i got a friend who knows steadman."
he showed me steadman's card that said, "athletes against drugs, 180 north lasalle, suite 800, in chicago, zip code, 60601. telephone number: (312) 263-4618.
"athletes against drugs," i said.
arthur said, "now, yeah, you see, he works with athletes, you see what i mean. but, what i am putting together for him is, i'm gonna develop a champion, a good fighter, see, and i'm giving him half of him, just to
hook him, just so i'll be able to get him and oprah for a fund-raiser, you see what i mean? you see, i am gonna have to give him the fighter."
i really was impressed by arthur's perseverance, although i wondered about his logic a little bit.
i asked, "what is steadman, a manager or something?"
"no, he ain't nothin'. he ain't nothin'."
"what do you have to give him something for?"
"because, so i can get him in, so i can bring oprah in, ahh...."
i broke in. "this is just your current idea. you know, you're trying to get where you want to go. so what is your main goal with that building, and your whole program?"
arthur was beating around the proverbial bush, but would eventually get to the point of the whole thing. he said, "i am developing some fighters now. i am working on that."
"who? what are their names?"
"ah, mills fighter's name is kevin."
"kevin miller."
arthur agreed and said, "yeah, so that was mills' fighter. so ah, he's not going anywhere, so i told mills to turn him over to me, and let me develop him, and i am going to bring steadman in, you see, as a partner. i am going to give him half, see what i mean, not sell him, give...because i want steadman with me, because that way i can hook oprah. see, what i mean, a fund-raiser is what i really want, but i'll do it like that. i'll do it that way. but, a story, i would like to have, but i may not get it, because...."
i interrupted him again and said, "then why don't i just put it in the book then? i'll let you approve it! i'll write it up, you know, the best that i can."
arthur had his head down and was listening very intently.
"i'll make sure you look at it first. this is chapter
eleven," i repeated as arthur thought to himself. "what about that amphitheater on forty-fifth and halsted that you were talking about?"
"that's what this is all about," arthur said. "i am gonna get it!"
"i just went by the amphitheater," i said, "and it looks pretty good.
"it's a good building, you see, but ain't nobody want it, but me."
"right."
"nobody wants it but me," arthur repeated. "see, ah, that's the reason why i need oprah. see what i mean?"
"you don't need no one, you've got god. you just need a public relations man."
"ah, well, i don't have...."
i said, "oprah will help you."
"yeah, but...," arthur said. "here's the thing about it. i don't have a public relations man. i don't have anybody but me."
"if i write this down, and put it in the book, and tell it the way it is, that's going to persuade her into going along with this."
"well, if you're going to put it in the book, i might as well tell you the whole story," arthur finally said.
i knew he'd change his mind.
"you see, i am going to bring you all the papers and show you, how all of the rich and famous turned me down."
"they sent you letters saying, sorry?" i asked.
"sorry," he said. "sorry, sorry, sorry. now, my goal is to save the country."
"that is my goal too! do you know that?"
"well," arthur said, "that's good. see, but ah, the program i have i don't think anybody else in the world can do it, but me."
"and what is that?" i asked.
"saving this country."
"and, how are you going to do that?"
"through boxing," he stated flatly.
"through fund-raising?"
"no, through boxing."
"you're going to bring back boxing?"
"i'm gonna bring it back. i'm gonna make this city the boxing center of the world, and all of the champions that i develop, i will give all the money to the country, to the tax-payers.
"i will save the people money, make jobs. nobody is gonna do that, but me. the program i have, nobody, but me will do it, and this is for the country. nobody else will do it, see what i mean."
i jumped in and asked arthur, "are you the black
jesus?"
"they call me the black moses," he said.
"who said that?"
"some kids call me that now! i put it on some papers, i'll show you."
"i got those. is there anything else you want to tell me?"
arthur seemed content with the interview and said, "that's enough. that's good, but ah, you can put that in your book."
"all right."
"you see what i mean, the rich and famous...."
"they put you down," i said.
arthur agreed and said, "they put me down, but you see, the key to the whole thing is, when you work for god, you gets no help, not much, from people, you see what i mean?"
i thought, i know exactly what you are talking about, because i too, have been working for god in my own ways too for many, many days, and i can't seem to get much cooperation either.
"it's a sacrifice you have to make," arthur said, as he seemed to be consoling my bruised and hurting heart. he went on to say, "now, here, i am trying to do good...."
i thought to myself, so am i.
"i'm trying to help people. i am trying to save the
children, and i am trying to feed the hungry, take care of the poor, trying to build champions, and give all the money to the country, but can get no help. and all these champions that i have lost, because i was trying to help people.
"look, there's nobody like that. now, you know sonny liston was a good champion. you know ali was a great champion, and i knew him from when he was seventeen years old. we had a fighter who knocked him out! larry amadee was his idol! we use to go to his house, and larry worked with him in the golden gloves, and mr. smith brought him here from kentucky, and he lived at the midwest hotel...."
i listened with both ears.
"so, larry trained him. larry worked for mr. smith. i didn't work for mr. smith."
i asked, "where did jimmy ellis live?"
"jimmy ellis lived in kentucky. he came over here and gave himself to me. jimmy ellis came to chicago. i'm gonna show you something." arthur broke out in a proud snicker.
"were you a corner man for any of these guys? you've always been in the background doing god's work?"
"i wasn't a corner man. i had a friend that use to talk about me with ali. i'm gonna get his name. i'm gonna let you talk to him," arthur confirmed. "we called him zoo lena."
"who?"
"zoo lena. he use to be a fighter out of cuba, a good fighter. he named himself. he was from the south, but anyway, he was ali's friend in kentucky, and he said that i am the best that ever lived. so, ah, he use to tell ali about me."
"best what, trainer?"
"trainer!"
"but that's not a corner man, that's a different thing."
"trainer. i am a trainer."
"have you ever made any money in this business?"
"never made any money in boxing. i lost all kinds of champions. i gave you the list. didn't i give you that list? all of them fighters, i lost."
"right," i said.
"and that's just a few," he said. "i must of lost a billion dollars."
"well, whose fault is that?"
"nobody...mine," arthur conceded.
"it was your fault, because you should of been all over those guys."
"never got a break. never made a nickel," arthur admitted, almost shamefully.
"that's because you never went in the corner. you could of went and got your manager's license and got contracts."
"well, ah, i only had two or three contracts, and then i wound up giving them back. the guys wanted to go with somebody else, so i let 'em go, and they wound up goin' no place," arthur said. "duecy's brother, james, is one. he had five fights and quit. the guy stole him. i had a contract, but i gave it back to him."
"rifleman?" i asked.
"rifleman," arthur agreed. "i gave the contract back to him. i developed him and a guy stole him, and he had five fights, and never made a nickel. a great career, gone! could of been champion. now, that is just one of a few," arthur said. he shook his head and said, "and there was some more in there."
arthur and i rapped up this interview in the courtyard.
we went in the gym and continued our conversation. i took some of the letters that arthur gave me, which he received in the mail, regarding his foundation called,
"the barney ross/larry amadee youth foundation." it has already been incorporated under the laws of the state of illinois and filed in the secretary of state's office, as provided by the general, not-for-profit, corporation act of illinois, en force, january 1, 1987, and signed by george
ryan, the secretary of state. file number, 4/17-863-1.
the list of people whom arthur wrote and asked for help
was many. all of whom politely turned him down, offering excuses such as, they get too many requests like that, but thanked him for writing, and wished him nothing but luck.
the list included the archdiocese of chicago, signed by the reverend kenneth velo, an administrative assistant to cardinal bernardin, in responses written in 1988 and 1992.
the office of the minister of defense wrote from tel-aviv in 1970, on behalf of mr. moshe dayan, written by r. winkler, acknowledging receipt of arthur's letter, and thanking him for his warm words. they wished nothing but wellness, but offered no help.
the naacp wrote on july 6, 1990 to arthur, and said, "thanks, but no thanks," signed by syd finley, executive secretary of chicago's south side branch.
illinois democratic senator paul simon responded on february 15, 1994, and said, "thank you for writing and sharing your views. i agree that it is important to feed our children, take care of the needy, and improve our economy..." he signed it, "my best wishes, cordially, paul simon."
thanks much, paul.
the chicago bears wrote arthur in 1988, signed by bill tobin, then director of player personnel, but turned him
down due to preparation for the upcoming draft. even george halas, himself, wrote arthur in 1969, offering no help. but ed and virginia mccaskey, the grandchildren of george halas, responded to arthur for writing them when mr. halas died on october 31, 1983, with a note acknowledging arthur's sincere expression of sympathy in their great loss. "your friendship and kindness will always be a cherished memory," the note read.
elizabeth taylor wrote arthur, signed by her secretary sharon leigh. it said, sorry, their money was going towards aids research, but thanked him for his kind words of admiration and support.
oprah winfrey did in fact answer arthur's correspondence on january 24, 1994 via sharon burne, her correspondent, saying, "she is unable to accommodate the overwhelming number of requests similar to yours," but once again, wished him luck and nothing but the best.
how do they all know arthur had a lot of bad luck, i wonder.
playboy wrote arthur and said, "we are unable to provide any assistance for the renovation of the building you've requested," written october 2, 1989, and signed by cleo f. wilson, executive director.
thanks, cleo. i am beginning to wonder if arthur needed help in writing of all these letters he was sending
out.
arthur even wrote president johnson in 1968, but only received a nice, little letter written by whitney shoemaker, an assistant to the president, but offered no help.
in 1984, president reagan's special assistant, anne higgins, wrote, "it is necessary to decline the majority of these requests, that is the policy because of our high volume of incoming appeals."
the current resident of the white house, president bill clinton and his wife hillary, both wrote arthur personal letters. the president wrote on june 24, 1993: "i appreciate your taking the time to write. it's important to hear the thoughts and experiences of people who care about the future of america and the world. we face many challenges ahead, and in order for us to come together and build a consensus, we must all share our ideas and concerns. your letter is valuable to me. thank you. sincerely, signed, bill clinton."
hillary added in a hand written letter to arthur: "thank you for sharing your ideas and suggestions. bill and i welcome your thoughts. they will be carefully considered as bill begins to implement his agenda for change in america. best wishes, hillary."
on february 7, 1992, arthur outlined his plan to mayor richard m. daley in his letter to him. here is the plan as
outlined by arthur, my friend. it's a good one!
we will build the world's greatest amateur boxing show in chicago and will run a boxing show every week. we will have a pay television station for illinois, and every county will keep their own money for their schools.
arthur said, "i can beat most of the amateur fighters in the state. i will make chicago, the boxing capital of the world."
we will have buses to pick up the children in the neighborhoods and bring them to the gym.
we will have classes on anti-gangs and against drug abuse.
we will have classes on how to become better, more productive citizens, and we will have a program on how to keep our youth in school.
we will save children, by the thousands, from traveling the road of destruction, and we will have a stadium that will be a city within itself, to educate our kids to help save them from the doom and despair, of the streets.
we will run professional boxing every month, and all the money we earn, will go to the youth foundation to save our children.
i talked with arthur and suggested a new foundation for 1994, "the sweeney/moore/mills kids foundation." he thought it was a good idea, and he really wanted me to get involved.
and....
i can't believe it! maybe i will do something really good with my life after all, because of this book and my effort to write it.
this is what being a philanthropist is all about, i thought.
this has been a great and honest effort, i realized.
there are a few more things that i could write about, but this is where we are at. we need help, and we are looking for sponsorship for our program.
it sure sounds like a winner to me.
could you please help us help others with your contribution to our first fund-raising drive. join in with some common, ordinary, good people, who really believe that they can make a big difference in this great world of ours.
"it's up to all of us!"
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