Showing posts with label Herman Mills. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Herman Mills. Show all posts

Friday, April 19, 2013

Leo Boxer -Lamar Fenner Defeated the Slain Chechen Boston Terrorist in 2009




Leo Boxer Lamar Fenner is center in Black -coached by boxing greats from the Left -the late Luther Rawlings, the late Eddie Perkins, the late Herman Mills and the great Mike Joyce.



Lamar Fenner was coached, schooled and mentored by Leo/Celtic Boxing Coach Mike Joyce.  Lamar died of a heart attack in 2012, after achieving great success in the square ring.  In 2009, the Chicago 201 lb. Golden Gloves Champion deafeated Tamerlain Tzarnaez - one of the two terrorists who murdered and maimed innocent people in Boston this last week.


In Team New England's last bout of the night, Tamerlan Tsarnaev dropped a controversial decision to Lamar Fenner of Chicago in the 201-pound devision.
After flooring Fenner with a huge punch that required an eight count, it seemed that Tsarnaev was in control of the whole fight.
Yet somehow the judges saw it differently and awarded Fenner the decision, a decision that drew boos from the crowd.
Team New England finished the first day of action with two wins and two losses.

One boxer died of natural causes and the loser from the bullets of Police officers.

God grant Lamar peace.
                                                     

Wednesday, March 14, 2012

R.I.P. Luther Rawlings - Leo Man and Mentor


Our kids at Leo High School are blessed. Yesterday, two freshmen had lunch with author and retired Chicago Fire Commissioner James T. Joyce and retired Deputy Chief and CFD Legend James Corbett - the greatest left-hand quarterback in Leo High School history.

Every day, at this Catholic high school in the Auburn Gresham neighborhood great men let young young men know that they are cared for and watched over. Catholic Charities Volunteer John Arevetis, Leo 1969, delivers food to Catholic Charities at 79th & Racine a few blocks west of this school and he always makes a point strolling the halls and talking to the young Lions.
On any given day, one might find retired Illinois Supreme Court Justice Thomas Fitzgerald, Emanuel Steward, Dick Ecklund, Gordon Marino, Kevin Rooney, Tamara Holder of Fox News Television and Leo Advisory Board, Dr. Stafford Hood, or comic genius Kenny Howell mixing with the guys.

I take two Leo Men every week or so out for lunch with the like Chief Corbett, Commissioner Joyce, Journalist James Bowman and etc. It is important for the guys to meet the people who are backing their efforts to be great men themselves through sacrifice, study and serious attention obligations.

For years, it was my honor to welcome Herman Mills and Luther Rawlings, two great boxers from the 1940's and '50's who helped coach and mentor our many boxers.

Herman went home to Christ a few years ago and he was joined by Luther last week.

Yesterday, Maureen O'Donnell of the Chicago Sun Times wrote this beautiful story about a beautiful man to whom we will say goodbye later this day.

In 1949, before the rules and safeguards that govern boxing today, a powerful punch from Luther Rawlings tragically killed a man in the ring.

But fight experts, family and friends say he was a gentle man who mentored hundreds of aspiring boxers at the Chicago Park District and Leo High School, often carrying his Bible and underlining passages before his workouts.

Mr. Rawlings, a professional boxer at both the lightweight and welterweight levels, died March 7 at Little Company of Mary Hospital from complications from
Alzheimer’s disease. He was 82.

During his seven-year career, he fought 65 times — “seven of them against world champions or future titlists,” Pete Ehrmann wrote in The Ring magazine.

He also owned Luther’s Lounge, a South Side club that stayed open late, attracting VIPs like Congressman “Big Bill” Dawson; pugilists Joe Louis and Sugar Ray Robinson; Olympic runners Jesse Owens and Ralph Metcalfe — who would go on to become a congressional representative — and Frank Sinatra, said Mike Joyce, boxing coordinator for Leo High School.

Mr. Rawlings’ wife of almost 56 years, Georgia, whose bathing-suited beauty was featured more than once in Jet magazine, is said to have so thoroughly entranced legendary singer Sam Cooke that she inspired him to write the song “Only Sixteen.’’

Georgia and Luther Rawlings raised three children, nine grandchildren and one great-grandchild, “all educated, and none of them have ever been in trouble,” Joyce said.

“Luther was among a handful of ex-professionals who have been gracious enough to come and box with our kids,” said Dan McGrath, president of Leo High School. “He always made the kids feel comfortable; never gave them more than they were ready for.”

Marvin Carey is tough, but he said Mr. Rawlings “showed me the definition of a tough man.” Sgt. Carey, a Chicago native and member of the All-Army boxing team, just fought in the 2012 Armed Forces Boxing Championships. He has completed two tours of Iraq and one in Afghanistan.

“He never complained about being in pain. . . .he got up and trained us every day,” Carey said. “All he wanted to do was teach us and see us do good. I wish I could have had more time with him, because he knew so much.”

“He used to get in the ring and help me out and watch me and give me pointers,” said Chicagoan Montell Griffin, a member of the 1992 U.S. Olympic boxing team. “He had a lot of patience.”

Luther Rawlings was known as Lucius Minor in the early 1940s, when he rode the rails from Memphis to Chicago to visit his mother, who was in town visiting her sister. Lucius accompanied a friend named Rawlings who was supposed to fight in a local bout, Joyce said. But when the other fighter saw the pair, he said: “I don’t want to fight Rawlings — I’ll fight his little brother” — who was actually Lucius Minor.

Lucius was only 13 or 14 at the time, but he decided to try his luck in the ring. “So, he ‘became’ Luther Rawlings,” Joyce said.

He grew up in Bronzeville and attended DuSable High School and Wilson Junior College.

“He was like a straight-up boxer, a good jab, very rangy, a good right hand,” said James Kitchen, a former boxing champ with Chicago’s Catholic Youth Organization.

In 1949, Talmadge Bussey died from a brain hemorrhage after a ninth-round knockout by Mr. Rawlings. It was the eighth boxing death of 1949, an era when “referees didn’t stop fights early enough,” Joyce said. And back then, boxers fought far more often than what is medically allowable today.

A few years later, a manager made the mistake of arranging for Mr. Rawlings to battle world lightweight champion Jimmy Carter in a non-title bout. But Mr. Rawlings did so well, he “convinced Carter to never get that close to Rawlings wearing boxing gloves again,” and a title match never happened, according to The Ring .

Mr. Rawlings, a teetotaler and non-smoker, eventually wanted a break from the nightclub scene and its imbibing, smoking and gambling. He owned a clothing boutique and a furniture store and worked as a manager at Aronson Furniture.

In addition to his wife, he is also survived by his daughters, Roslyn Rawlings-Thomas and Renata Robinson; his son, Ronald, and his nine grandchildren and one great-grandchild.

A wake is scheduled at noon Wednesday at W. W. Holt Funeral Home, 175 W. 159th St., Harvey. His funeral will follow at Holt’s at 1 p.m.

“People are not boxing like they used to,” Griffin said. “We’re losing the teachers in the gyms who’ve been around, the old guys with the gray hair and the beards — ?they got a knowledge.”


Thank you, Ms. O'Donnell!

Sunday, July 11, 2010

Who Is My Neighbor? Not Necessarily the Folks at the Block Party


The great Trevor Jensen, obituary editor of the Chicago Tribune wrote a sweet piece about the death of Herman Mills, a Leo Boxing Coach, last October.

Herman Mills, a quick-footed 138-pounder who fought on the undercard of a Joe Louis exhibition bout during boxing's golden era, worked with young fighters in Chicago gyms for more than 50 years.

Mr. Mills, 85, died of colon cancer Friday, Oct. 9, in Jesse Brown VA Medical Center, said Mike Joyce, who runs the boxing program at Leo High School.

Mr. Mills had been a volunteer coach at Leo for 12 years, and since his wife died four years ago had been living with Joyce. The former resident of the city's Bronzeville neighborhood had been spry until only recently, working with the boxers at Leo during the day and playing bingo in various Catholic churches at night.


Click my post title for the story. What goes unsaid in the story is the fact that Mike Joyce, an attorney and former pro boxer, had taken in Herman Mills, paid his bills, bought his clothes, his food, and made certain the the old gentleman was safe and happy and needed.

Mr. Mills had fallen on very hard times and much younger Irish American single man gave him a home.

That fact has always humbled me and jarred me today when I listened to Today's Gospel at Sacred Heart Church. Father Gallagher read:


Luke 10: 25 - 37
. . . ."And who is my neighbor?"
Jesus replied, "A man was going down from Jerusalem to Jericho, and he fell among robbers, who stripped him and beat him, and departed, leaving him half dead.
Now by chance a priest was going down that road; and when he saw him he passed by on the other side.
So likewise a Levite, when he came to the place and saw him, passed by on the other side.
But a Samaritan, as he journeyed, came to where he was; and when he saw him, he had compassion,
and went to him and bound up his wounds, pouring on oil and wine; then he set him on his own beast and brought him to an inn, and took care of him.
And the next day he took out two denarii and gave them to the innkeeper, saying, `Take care of him; and whatever more you spend, I will repay you when I come back.'
Which of these three, do you think, proved neighbor to the man who fell among the robbers?"
He said, "The one who showed mercy on him." And Jesus said to him, "Go and do likewise."
. . .


He explained that our neighbors just might not be the folks we enjoy at our block parties.

I pray that someday I might be a much better person than I seem to continue to be - I'll do the easy ones twice; let's see how I do when my neighbor needs me.