THESE DYNAMIC BOOKS ARE SURE TO LIFT YOUR SPIRITS

​Book excerpt from: "Ready for the next round", (Pages 21 - 27)

My fascination with boxing

It was at the Jones’ house when I saw my first boxing match on July 29, 1957. I saw Floyd Patterson beat up a heavyweight fighter. While I watched this fight, I fell in love with boxing. I especially liked the rematch between Floyd Patterson and Ingirmar Johnson. Patterson was my first boxing hero. Watching boxing gave me a chance to have a vicarious experience; I could see myself as the winning fighter. If my fighter won, I felt like he had beaten someone who was my enemy and I’d feel vindicated.​

Pinckney was not blessed with his father’s brains. I always  thought his father was brilliant because of the fascinating stories he told me about boxing. He said his father and grandfather passed down these stories to him. As a result of these stories, I became a permanent boxing enthusiast. 

The stories that captivated me the most were of slave fighters. He explained that in the 1850s, all black fighters were slaves who lived on plantations. He told me a story about a black fighter owned by Mr. Jimmy Lee Jackson. Mr. Jackson was a tall white man with a long handlebar mustache. When attending fights he always wore a black derby hat. Otherwise, he wore a wide brim, cowboy type hat to cover his large, bald head. He owned the Jackson plantation, located in Aiken, South Carolina.

Mr. Jackson owned several black fighters. One of them,  Monk Jackson, a light-skinned middleweight fighter was  rumored to be Mr. Jackson’s son. Another boxer, Zeke Jackson was a heavyweight dark skinned fighter who was six feet, seven inches tall and weighed about two hundred and thirty pounds. And there was Baye Jackson, another heavyweight fighter, about six feet, five inches and weighed about two hundred and twenty five pounds.

They weighed these fighters much like they weighed cotton. The fighter would sit on one side of a hanging scale and pre-weighted iron bars would be placed on the other side of the scale. The side with the iron bars would come down and the fighter would rise up until the scales balanced. Mr. Jones said his grandfather told him that these black fighters were built like Greek gods. He said their bodies were chiseled to perfection. However, they all had welts on their backs from beatings they received for trying to escape or being disobedient to their master. The slave master had to especially keep these big slaves in check or they could cause serious security problems for the master.

According to Mr. Jones, people traveled two or three hundred miles to see a big fight on these plantations. Plantation owners made big money on their slave fighters. There was a fee to see the fight and heavy betting against each participating plantation. The plantation owners would divide the money they received from the fans and each would get a percentage of the money won on bets. In addition, they received money from the sale of food, bootleg liquor and cigarettes.

These were not professional fights. Mr. Jones said he never heard of professional black fighters during that time. Furthermore, black fighters were certainly not allowed to be matched with white fighters during that period. Some whites would not attend these fights because they considered fights with or between black fighters a disgrace to the professional sport of prize fighting. Furthermore, prizefighting, betting, selling homemade liquor and untaxed cigarettes were considered illegal activity. However, each plantation owner gave local politicians kickbacks to look the other way allowing these fights to take place.

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In one bout, fighters from Mr. Jackson’s plantation were pitted against fighters from Mr. John McGee’s Plantation, located in Edgefield, South Carolina. Mr. McGee, a stocky, red-bearded, white man was known for his brutality to his slaves. If any one of his fighters lost a fight, he would have him tied and beaten with a whip. Mr. Jackson on the other hand was more practical. His fighter had suffered enough after such a vicious combat. Besides, by whipping the fighter after the fight he could inflict further damage on his property and thus, reduce its value.

Fighters prepared themselves for upcoming fights by punching burlap bags filled with dirt and sand. Today, it is called a body bag. Slave fighters did not have boxing gloves, instead they wore mittens or sometimes they fought bare-fisted. Plantation owners wanted their fighters to be in tip-top shape for a fight because the plantation owner with the winning fighter received the larger share of the proceeds. So, during training, the plantation slave master rode in a buggy pulled by two mules and the fighters would run  alongside to build his stamina and endurance. This would go on for at least two months before a fight. Owners not only wanted their fighters to win, they also wanted to create a marquee fighter who would bring them more money for each subsequent event. These fighters did not have real rankings nor did they have any official rules governing these fights. In many cases they fought out of their weight class. For example, a lightweight fighter would be matched with a welterweight fighter.

Mr. Jones told me that these type of fights became known as, “The battle of royals” where young black fighters were in the ring in front of an all white audience. Sometimes there were as many as eight fighters in the ring at one time. Sometimes they were blindfolded or had one hand tied behind their back. One could not win on points; they fought until there was only one man standing. All the rest were knocked out.

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Plantation owners were only concerned about entertaining the crowd and earning money. Black fighters were slaves therefore they never got paid. Most owners would be concerned that their fighters were not completely debilitated in a fight because these fighters were also used as breeders. This meant that they, like pure breed animals, were used as mates with strong black women to produce strong offspring. The owner could continue reaping big profits from them for generations to come. Furthermore, these slaves were strong hard workers and they were very valuable at slave auctions.

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According to Mr. Jones, there would be as many as five to seven hundred people at these fights. In one particular bout that took place during the summer of 1853, hard hitting Monk Jackson was matched up against the fast hands of Basil McGee, one of Mr. McGee’ middleweight fighters. Each fighter weighed in at 160 pounds. Basil was the taller of the two. He was five feet, ten inches tall and Monk was five-feet eight inches tall. Both fighters were about 18 or 19 years old.

During that time, sanctioned fights among white fighters were fought in rounds. Each round lasted one minute and the fighters got a minutes rest between rounds. Black fighters fought without rest until his opponent was knocked out. All bets were placed and everyone at ringside sat in anticipation of the preliminary entertainment. Before and during the fight, in the makeshift arena, young white boys would walk up and down the aisles selling cigarettes, beer, food and homemade liquor.        

They did not have a referee in the ring with these fighters. The plantation owner’s overseer stood along the ropes and yelled instructions to the fighters.

The bell would ring and the fight began. Basil ran across the ring catching Monk off guard and hit him on the chin with a hard lead right hand that stunned him. Basil hit him with two more jabs and another right hand before he recovered from the first barrage of punches. It looked liked it was going to be an easy fight for Basil. He gave Monk a beating for the first few minutes, but Monk weathered the storm. Monk looked dazed, but not out so he cleverly boxed and kept a distance between himself and Basil until he cleared his head and regained his senses. Finally, Monk got his second wind and came back alive; he began with two jabs, a right hand that crushed into the jaw of Basil and he finished that combination with a hard double left hook to his body. He had Basil in serious trouble. Although they were both in great condition, Basil looked like he was spent and they had only been fighting thirty-five minutes. Now, the bloodthirsty fans came to see someone get a vicious beating for at least an hour each fight. And it appeared that Basil was finished. Everyone was wondering if Basil would come back like Monk did when he seemed like he was out on his feet. During the next twenty minutes both fighters began to show signs of tiring. However Monk was in much better shape and it was now evident that Basil was no longer a match for him. Monk ended this vicious and entertaining fight with a beautiful combination, double jab, right hand and a mean left hook that sent Basil to the canvas for the count of ten. The fight was over. Two big male slaves from Mr. McGee plantation carried Basil out of the ring. Both of his eyes were swollen badly and his face bloody with cuts and bruises.

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Although Monk was not beaten as bad, it was evident that he had been in a ferocious fight. According to Mr. McGee, this was the first time Basil lost a fight. We do not know if he was telling the truth or not, because slave fighters did not have official fighters records.

They were both good fighters, however, Basil did not know how to pace himself and threw too many hard punches during the first few minutes of the fight and became winded toward the end. Although he did his best to win, Basil still had another beating coming from Mr. McGee, as soon as he was well enough to go back to work.

Book excerpt from: "Ready for the next round", (Pages 136 - 137)

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My introduction to jazz

He told me developmental, mainstream and traditional jazz are similar in that they have four sections, and they are the beginning, development, recapitulation and an ending. He went on to explain that the beginning of a developmental jazz piece was like the beginning of human life. Just like the DNA in humans, each piece of music has its own distinctive patterns and

qualities. As we develop and grow we always keep our personal identity, no matter how much our environment impacts us. A traditional jazz composition has a development section as well. In that section we hear different themes being improvised and improved upon. The recapitulation was a stage of maturity in a person. We have developed into who we are and our environment had an impact on us. The ending is a repeat of the beginning with the influence of the development. If we live long enough, life

becomes full circle. I was fascinated by this interpretation and analogy.

Jazz can be interpreted in other ways as well. Like a work of art, jazz music is a blend of musical instruments that are arranged harmonically according to their sounds to create illustrious melodies. It could be a sequence of melodies designed to put you in a happy or a sad mood. The interpretation is left to the listener. In many ways, it reminded me of the times I visited art museums. There, I saw brilliant colors blended together to create a great painting.

Many groups claim to have created this music. I cannot say at this time with certainty that African Americans created it, but I can say with certainty that we played a major role in its development. Furthermore, this was considered by many to be music for intellectuals. In my opinion, jazz is another one of Africa’s gifts to America. It was different from Rock and Roll or rhythm and Blues. That type of music was easier for me to identify with especially as a teenager. You did not have to think about anything except what the artist was saying. Everything was spelled out.

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Jazz was different.

It could change your mood with or without words.

I loved my experience with jazz and meeting new friends.