Louis's mother attended the fight, and afterward dished up a whole new set of biblical allusions, this time focusing on all the Delilahs and Jezebels in Harlem who were out to sap Joe's strength. But for all the self-abasement, she also tried to shame America into treating her son properly. She knew he'd get his title shot, she said; white folks had always done right by her, because she'd always done right by them. And she'd taught Joe to do the same.

Boxing's color line, unlike baseball's, had never been officially enforced. The sport was not so organized; it had no Kenesaw Mountain Lan-dis to preserve its prejudices. Rarely was the subject discussed in concrete terms, and even more rarely was it defended. The British press, perhaps less intent upon appearing enlightened, confronted things more explicitly. To Boxing, Boxing, the raucous celebrations following the Carnera fight foreshadowed what might happen should a black man ever capture the crown. The the raucous celebrations following the Carnera fight foreshadowed what might happen should a black man ever capture the crown. The Sunday Pictorial Sunday Pictorial offered a Solomonic solution: a separate "colored champion of the world." offered a Solomonic solution: a separate "colored champion of the world."

In the United States, Collyer's Eye Collyer's Eye claimed it had learned from a "highly authoritative source" that a title shot for Louis had been ruled out at "a secret New York conclave," both because he was black and, more critically, because his black management had refused "to cut in the fixers and politicians." That the tip sheet, flying in the face of all evidence, regularly decried Louis as the ruination of boxing should have made anything it said suspect. But given the sport's dicey tradition and America's racism, the idea of such a decree, a "Protocol of the Elders of Fistiana," was not so far-fetched, and the report prompted Walter White of the NAACP to voice his concerns to both the New York State Athletic Commission and New York governor Herbert Lehman; Roxborough and Black assured White that no such fix was in. Respected newsmen like Bill Cunningham of the claimed it had learned from a "highly authoritative source" that a title shot for Louis had been ruled out at "a secret New York conclave," both because he was black and, more critically, because his black management had refused "to cut in the fixers and politicians." That the tip sheet, flying in the face of all evidence, regularly decried Louis as the ruination of boxing should have made anything it said suspect. But given the sport's dicey tradition and America's racism, the idea of such a decree, a "Protocol of the Elders of Fistiana," was not so far-fetched, and the report prompted Walter White of the NAACP to voice his concerns to both the New York State Athletic Commission and New York governor Herbert Lehman; Roxborough and Black assured White that no such fix was in. Respected newsmen like Bill Cunningham of the Boston Post Boston Post confronted the issue head on. "Louis deserves the right to go as far as he can," he wrote. "If he's stopped, here's hoping that it happens cleanly in battle and not in the dingy offices of a lot of avaricious buzzards." In the end, two mighty sins, prejudice and greed, had to square off before Louis and Braddock ever could, and this was even more of a mismatch than Louis and Carnera. The confronted the issue head on. "Louis deserves the right to go as far as he can," he wrote. "If he's stopped, here's hoping that it happens cleanly in battle and not in the dingy offices of a lot of avaricious buzzards." In the end, two mighty sins, prejudice and greed, had to square off before Louis and Braddock ever could, and this was even more of a mismatch than Louis and Carnera. The Chicago Tribune Chicago Tribune had it about right: Louis was supplying "vitamins C, A, S and H" to an undernourished sport. To Braddock, money would surely trump all other considerations, and neither Baer nor Schmeling was exactly indifferent to it either. "Max isn't interested in the title," Joe Jacobs said of his client. "It's money he wants and he can get more-much more-for fighting Louis than Braddock. Why, the bout will draw more than $750,000, and we'd be suckers not to fight for that kind of a gate." had it about right: Louis was supplying "vitamins C, A, S and H" to an undernourished sport. To Braddock, money would surely trump all other considerations, and neither Baer nor Schmeling was exactly indifferent to it either. "Max isn't interested in the title," Joe Jacobs said of his client. "It's money he wants and he can get more-much more-for fighting Louis than Braddock. Why, the bout will draw more than $750,000, and we'd be suckers not to fight for that kind of a gate."

The Daily Worker, Daily Worker, which had begun covering sports largely to champion Louis, somehow saw racists and capitalists alike conspiring to block the black man. "If the which had begun covering sports largely to champion Louis, somehow saw racists and capitalists alike conspiring to block the black man. "If the Daily Worker Daily Worker really wanted to help an oppressed race, it might have warned Negroes not to be swept off their feet by the result of a prizefight," countered the really wanted to help an oppressed race, it might have warned Negroes not to be swept off their feet by the result of a prizefight," countered the Amsterdam News. Amsterdam News. Other black papers agreed that the achievements of a W. E. B. DuBois or a victory in the Scottsboro case or a federal antilynching law mattered much more than any boxing match, and that for blacks to go overboard on Louis suited the white man just fine. But to more of them, there was nothing hyperbolic about the hoopla. "Each victory of Louis will be in effect as good as electing a Congressman," Dan Burley wrote in the Associated Negro Press. And if Louis got a title shot, it would be like getting "a colored vice-president." In the Other black papers agreed that the achievements of a W. E. B. DuBois or a victory in the Scottsboro case or a federal antilynching law mattered much more than any boxing match, and that for blacks to go overboard on Louis suited the white man just fine. But to more of them, there was nothing hyperbolic about the hoopla. "Each victory of Louis will be in effect as good as electing a Congressman," Dan Burley wrote in the Associated Negro Press. And if Louis got a title shot, it would be like getting "a colored vice-president." In the Baltimore Afro-American, Baltimore Afro-American, Ralph Matthews puzzled over white caprice-that while one section of the country lynched a black man for sassing whites, in another section they would cheer him on. Ralph Matthews puzzled over white caprice-that while one section of the country lynched a black man for sassing whites, in another section they would cheer him on.

Suddenly, everyone wanted to give Louis advice. Bill Corum of the New York Evening Journal New York Evening Journal offered the cautionary tale of Kid Chocolate, the Afro-Cuban featherweight who'd been the King of Lenox Avenue until succumbing to loud clothes, bottles of gin, "hot cha brown-skin girls," and "the heat of the Harlem moon." "If [Louis] lets things inside of bottles offered the cautionary tale of Kid Chocolate, the Afro-Cuban featherweight who'd been the King of Lenox Avenue until succumbing to loud clothes, bottles of gin, "hot cha brown-skin girls," and "the heat of the Harlem moon." "If [Louis] lets things inside of bottles STAY INSIDE OF BOTTLES STAY INSIDE OF BOTTLES, and for his business affairs secures the protection of an intelligent, honest lawyer instead of some racketeer, he may not die poor after a few years of leaning against a Harlem bar telling how great he used to be," observed Arthur Brisbane, who predicted that it would take "two or three good fairy godmothers from the upper reaches of the magic Nile to take him safely through what lies ahead of him." Black columnists warned of a different danger. "The white world of sports and the world at large will not deny or envy you any fortune, however large, if you spend it upon a Negro woman," one cautioned. "But if you would lavish it upon some low-caste white woman the white world will rise in wrath and so would the Negro world."

One of black boxing's greatest figures, Sam Langford, was by then nearly blind, but as he walked along Lenox Avenue the day after the Carnera fight, even he could feel something in the air. "Harlem's got some money today," he laughed. Louis left for Atlantic City. Though the trip was ostensibly secret, five thousand fans awaited him there. They stormed the store where he was buying shoes, forcing him to try on a pair in his car. That night, one thousand young boys staged a tin-can torchlight parade in his honor. Then he left for Detroit, thwarting plans to throw a triumphant welcome for him by sneaking into town.

THE MORNING AFTER L LOUIS STOPPED C CARNERA, Schmeling and Machon sat down for breakfast at Schmeling's training camp near Berlin. In two weeks he would fight Paolino Uzcudun. But as Schmeling read about the New York fight in the newspaper, he lost his appetite. At some point he would have to confront this Louis. So would Nazi Germany.

In German athletics as in Germany generally, blacks had always been scarce, more objects of curiosity than of disparagement or discrimination. Their very novelty had often made them, quite literally, a form of public entertainment-as actors, circus performers, athletes. Before Hitler gained power, Box-Sport Box-Sport wrote about black boxers only rarely and benignly. But the Nazis had always been contemptuous of blacks, in and out of athletics. In wrote about black boxers only rarely and benignly. But the Nazis had always been contemptuous of blacks, in and out of athletics. In Mein Kampf, Mein Kampf, Hitler had dismissed the civil rights movement as part of a Jewish conspiracy. In his first public speech in Berlin in 1928, he lamented that German culture and music had been "negrified." To him, the Negro and the Jew were in cahoots to destroy Aryan values. Hitler had dismissed the civil rights movement as part of a Jewish conspiracy. In his first public speech in Berlin in 1928, he lamented that German culture and music had been "negrified." To him, the Negro and the Jew were in cahoots to destroy Aryan values.

Such sentiments spilled over into sports. In November 1930, the Angriff Angriff bemoaned how the black American boxer George Godfrey had been booked for fights in Paris and London. At least the Americans, "out of a healthy spirit," had rejected the black man, it said. The approving reference to Jim Crow America was not unusual. "In every Negro, even in one of the kindest disposition, is the latent brute and primitive man who can be tamed neither by centuries of slavery nor by an external varnish of civilization," the bemoaned how the black American boxer George Godfrey had been booked for fights in Paris and London. At least the Americans, "out of a healthy spirit," had rejected the black man, it said. The approving reference to Jim Crow America was not unusual. "In every Negro, even in one of the kindest disposition, is the latent brute and primitive man who can be tamed neither by centuries of slavery nor by an external varnish of civilization," the Nationalsozialistische Monatshefte Nationalsozialistische Monatshefte declared. The Nazi press had kind words for lynching, for declared. The Nazi press had kind words for lynching, for The Birth of a Nation, The Birth of a Nation, for the Ku Klux Klan. To Hitler and his followers, the wrong side had won the Civil War; for the Ku Klux Klan. To Hitler and his followers, the wrong side had won the Civil War; Gone With the Wind Gone With the Wind was to become one of the Fuhrer's favorite movies. When the Nazis pushed for separate compartments for Jews on German trains, they cited the American South as precedent. was to become one of the Fuhrer's favorite movies. When the Nazis pushed for separate compartments for Jews on German trains, they cited the American South as precedent.

After the Nazis assumed power, racial purity became national policy. Blacks lost their jobs. Africans from former German colonies had their identity papers taken away and replaced with "alien" passports. "Negroes don't have anything to grin about in National Socialist Germany," was how a Nazi teacher reprimanded a schoolboy named Hans Massaquoi, the son of an African man and a German woman. Jazz-called "jungle music" or "Niggerjazz"-was banned. Underlying the contempt was the usual empirical data and "scientific" theory that led to the sterilization of the five hundred to seven hundred offspring of the French-African troops who occupied Germany after World War I and their German mothers- the so-called Rhineland Bastards. As a German paper put it, one mustn't let their cuteness now deter the important task of keeping German blood pure.

Obsessed with racial matters as they were, the Nazis paid close attention to race relations in the United States, and two themes dominated commentary on it. The first, sparked no doubt by feelings of inferiority and competitiveness, ridiculed how, in what they disdainfully called "the world's freest country," blacks were discriminated against in every conceivable manner, no matter if the white man were a sewer worker and the black man the heavyweight champion of the world. What rankled the Nazis wasn't the unfairness, however, but the hypocrisy: how America sanctimoniously lectured the rest of the world about tolerance, when it was so deeply discriminatory itself.

Indeed, the second theme was praise for raw, unvarnished American racial prejudice, however it was expressed. Nazi Germany and the United States were really brothers under the skin, this theory went, with Germany steadfastly upholding doctrines that America secretly shared but from which subversives-invariably Jews and Communists-had led it astray. America should just come clean and embrace its racist tendencies, the Nazis urged, for given the natural inferiority of blacks, these tendencies were biologically ordained and historically just. "This law is not inhumane," a 1933 report from a German correspondent in the United States explained. "It's a necessity for America, because otherwise the American race would become a mixed race. The Negro here will always remain a second-class human being. He might be allowed to serve the white man, but he'll never be allowed to become a real American." This principle, rather than coarse stereotyping, provided the lens through which the Nazi press initially viewed Joe Louis. It acknowledged his talent-Box-Sport called him "uniquely and colossally dangerous"-and even credited him with a certain dignity; while blacks were ecstatic when Louis won, it noted, Louis himself remained cool and reserved. But Louis-Nazi journals routinely referred to him as the called him "uniquely and colossally dangerous"-and even credited him with a certain dignity; while blacks were ecstatic when Louis won, it noted, Louis himself remained cool and reserved. But Louis-Nazi journals routinely referred to him as the "Lehmgesicht," "Lehmgesicht," meaning "clay face" or "loam face"-should certainly never be champion and would become so only if America sacrificed its racial principles for its own ego, just as it had by allowing blacks onto its Olympic team in 1932. meaning "clay face" or "loam face"-should certainly never be champion and would become so only if America sacrificed its racial principles for its own ego, just as it had by allowing blacks onto its Olympic team in 1932.

Box-Sport quickly bought into the new racial order. In a November 1933 article about the "ever-grinning and sneering" Jack Johnson, it called the black man "a cross between a clown and a beast." Boxing had even more reason to exclude blacks, it said; their physical advantages made every fight unfair. The black man "senses every danger with the primeval instinct of a wild animal," the article stated. "In his movements he is lithe and sure, like a panther. He is wildly uncontrolled on the attack and tremendously hard against blows to the skull, in fact, he is only really vulnerable in one place: on the shin bone (In America every boy knows that a nigger can only be felled by a sharp, downward kick against the shin bone)." Unsurprisingly, after January 1933 fewer black boxers found their way into German rings. The experience of a black wrestler named Jim Wango in Nuremberg in early 1935 may help explain why. quickly bought into the new racial order. In a November 1933 article about the "ever-grinning and sneering" Jack Johnson, it called the black man "a cross between a clown and a beast." Boxing had even more reason to exclude blacks, it said; their physical advantages made every fight unfair. The black man "senses every danger with the primeval instinct of a wild animal," the article stated. "In his movements he is lithe and sure, like a panther. He is wildly uncontrolled on the attack and tremendously hard against blows to the skull, in fact, he is only really vulnerable in one place: on the shin bone (In America every boy knows that a nigger can only be felled by a sharp, downward kick against the shin bone)." Unsurprisingly, after January 1933 fewer black boxers found their way into German rings. The experience of a black wrestler named Jim Wango in Nuremberg in early 1935 may help explain why.*

But Nazi ideology did not capture all the nuances in German racial thinking, nor did it stifle the more innocuous, almost affectionate feelings many Germans had for blacks. W. E. B. DuBois spent five months in Germany in 1936 and later wrote that he was treated with the kind of courtesy and consideration he had never received in America; his greatest indignity there was having people stare at him. Other American black visitors returned from Nazi Germany even more enthusiastic. One noted that blacks were still welcomed at German universities. "Other things being equal, I had rather live in the Rhineland than in Florida or Alabama," one wrote. On the other hand, when Paul Robeson passed through Berlin in 1934, he felt menaced by uniformed men "with hatred in their eyes." Marian Anderson was discouraged from performing there, while the saxophonist Coleman Hawkins was banned outright.

Before any racial matters had to be finally decided, Schmeling faced his encounter with Uzcudun on July 7. It would be Schmeling's first fight in Berlin in seven years, and there were reports that Hitler would be there, the first time he would see Schmeling box. Schmeling had to dazzle to show he could still draw crowds in the States. "The Americans again have all the trump cards," the Volkischer Beobachter Volkischer Beobachter lamented, pointing to a popular world champion and a challenger who, though he had black skin, packed a knockout punch in both hands. lamented, pointing to a popular world champion and a challenger who, though he had black skin, packed a knockout punch in both hands.

The Fuhrer, alas, was not among the thirty-five thousand fans who showed up for the fight, a disappointing gate for what turned out to be a disappointing bout. Uzcudun went into his usual shell, giving his opponent few clean shots at him, and Schmeling remained his frustratingly plodding self. He won a decision after what William L. Shirer called "twelve slow and thrill-less rounds."* Still, Schmeling remained in demand in the United States. Mike Jacobs wanted him to fight Louis in September, and Madison Square Garden wanted him to fight Baer around the same time. Both sides thought they had deals. Somewhere in the middle was Joe Jacobs. He favored Louis because it would be far more lucrative; he'd gone to the Uzcudun fight to convince Schmeling to take him on. Jacobs also needed Schmeling to renew his contract with him, which was about to expire. Still, Schmeling remained in demand in the United States. Mike Jacobs wanted him to fight Louis in September, and Madison Square Garden wanted him to fight Baer around the same time. Both sides thought they had deals. Somewhere in the middle was Joe Jacobs. He favored Louis because it would be far more lucrative; he'd gone to the Uzcudun fight to convince Schmeling to take him on. Jacobs also needed Schmeling to renew his contract with him, which was about to expire.

But the boxing press doubted whether Schmeling was listening to Jacobs, or if he'd re-up with him. There were reports that Schmeling wouldn't even see Jacobs while he was in Europe, and that Yussel had had to cable someone in the United States for enough cash to get home. "One word from Joe," Bill Corum quipped, "and Max does as he pleases." Here was Germany trying to drive its Jews out, Dan Parker noted, and two Jews named Jacobs were begging a German Aryan to come to America to collect a pile of dough to take back to Hitler.

"Schmeling! Schmeling! Who's got Max Schmeling?" The New York Times The New York Times asked on July 16. The money lay with Louis, but since the Garden controlled Braddock, a title shot ran through Baer. Ultimately, Schmeling made demands seemingly designed to kill any chance of either fight, and suspicions grew that he was not going to come to the United States that fall, because of his fear of taxes, or of having to pay Joe Jacobs what he owed him, or of Louis, or of incurring Nazi wrath for taking on a black man. For the Nazis had grown hostile toward a Louis fight and toward Louis himself. Why, they asked, should Schmeling take on a "clay face" who should never be given a title shot, particularly since the asked on July 16. The money lay with Louis, but since the Garden controlled Braddock, a title shot ran through Baer. Ultimately, Schmeling made demands seemingly designed to kill any chance of either fight, and suspicions grew that he was not going to come to the United States that fall, because of his fear of taxes, or of having to pay Joe Jacobs what he owed him, or of Louis, or of incurring Nazi wrath for taking on a black man. For the Nazis had grown hostile toward a Louis fight and toward Louis himself. Why, they asked, should Schmeling take on a "clay face" who should never be given a title shot, particularly since the "Negermisch-ling" "Negermisch-ling" was still too green and untested to face someone of Schmeling's stature? The argument infuriated Fleischer. Schmeling "never saw the day when he was good enough to justify all the fuss that has been made over him recently," he wrote. Soon, all parties got fed up with Schmeling. "I am convinced he's been giving us all the old run around, including me, who put him in the championship," Joe Jacobs complained. "He talks like he was Dempsey and this is 1929," said the matchmaker at Madison Square Garden. "Who in hell does he think he is anyway?" asked Mike Jacobs. He quickly signed up Louis to fight Baer in September. In one stroke, he'd deprived Schmeling of two possible adversaries. was still too green and untested to face someone of Schmeling's stature? The argument infuriated Fleischer. Schmeling "never saw the day when he was good enough to justify all the fuss that has been made over him recently," he wrote. Soon, all parties got fed up with Schmeling. "I am convinced he's been giving us all the old run around, including me, who put him in the championship," Joe Jacobs complained. "He talks like he was Dempsey and this is 1929," said the matchmaker at Madison Square Garden. "Who in hell does he think he is anyway?" asked Mike Jacobs. He quickly signed up Louis to fight Baer in September. In one stroke, he'd deprived Schmeling of two possible adversaries.

The German assault on Louis now intensified. For Schmeling, after his recent triumphs, to have to fight a comparative rube like Louis, said Box-Sport, Box-Sport, would be a "national humiliation." With the help of a photograph, it then dissected the racial makeup of this would be a "national humiliation." With the help of a photograph, it then dissected the racial makeup of this Mischling, Mischling, all to prove, apparently, that he wasn't even a pure version of an inferior being, but some watered-down, mongrelized imitation. "They always say that he is black," it wrote. "But when one looks at this photo, there is not much of Negro blackness left over.... There is much of the 'white' element in him, which one very often finds with mixed-breeds in the States." The paper explained that race-conscious Americans could always identify light-skinned blacks by their hair, their fingernails-they always retained a "bluish shadowing"- and their odor: "For that one doesn't need to have an especially sensitive nose." An artist in all to prove, apparently, that he wasn't even a pure version of an inferior being, but some watered-down, mongrelized imitation. "They always say that he is black," it wrote. "But when one looks at this photo, there is not much of Negro blackness left over.... There is much of the 'white' element in him, which one very often finds with mixed-breeds in the States." The paper explained that race-conscious Americans could always identify light-skinned blacks by their hair, their fingernails-they always retained a "bluish shadowing"- and their odor: "For that one doesn't need to have an especially sensitive nose." An artist in Der Kicker Der Kicker depicted Louis as a generic, cartoonish black man, and his followers as dancing African savages, holding a placard that declared depicted Louis as a generic, cartoonish black man, and his followers as dancing African savages, holding a placard that declared HAIL JOE LOUIS OUR PROPHET HAIL JOE LOUIS OUR PROPHET. Still, most ordinary Germans seemed to feel about Louis the way most Americans did: they liked him.

Before taking on Baer in September, Louis had a warm-up bout against Kingfish Levinsky, the man whom Schmeling was to have fought the year before. Levinsky, born Harry Krakow, was in some ways a Jewish Carnera, a giant clown with "the body of a caribou and the guileless mind of a child." In Chicago, though, where the fight was to take place, he was a hometown favorite; "the glorified fish peddler of Maxwell Street," he was called. By now, Louis was practically a Chicagoan, too, so an internecine struggle loomed. Special trains brought in fight fans, mostly black, from throughout the Midwest; ten dollars bought you not just round-trip train fare from Kansas City but a ticket to the Negro League's East-West Game. The fight, set for August 7, was Chicago's biggest since the Dempsey-Tunney "long count" contest of 1927. Few expected anything lengthy about this one, though. Louis had an extra incentive to get it over with fast: his managers pledged that if he ended it in a round, they would all go on the wagon. The wager was aimed primarily at Blackburn, who had been drinking heavily.

The weigh-in was a chilly affair. Someone asked Levinsky the name of the black cocker spaniel he'd brought with him. "Joe Louis," he replied with a grin. "Boy, I bet that dawg sure has a lot of dynamite in him," an unamused Louis remarked. Nearly 40,000 people were inside Comiskey Park, with another 100,000 people, mostly black, milling outside and 50,000 more outside the Savoy Ballroom, where Louis had trained, and where he was expected to appear afterward. In popular mythology, Mike Jacobs, worried that Levinsky might flee, started the fight an hour early. Though this was not so, Levinsky's face, wrote Runyon, was the color of someone "at the rail of ocean liners in a heavy storm" as he entered the ring. Louis threw one of his trademark short punches, a left hook to the jaw. In seconds he had Levinsky down, then again, again, and again. With a single punch, a man at ringside later insisted, Louis had given the Kingfish two black eyes. "Don't let him hit me again, Mister!" Levinsky begged the referee, who quickly stopped the fight. The time: 141 seconds. Louis had won his bet; Blackburn would become a teetotaler, at least temporarily.

Perhaps because of that, Louis showed some uncharacteristic emotion afterward, dancing and laughing his way to his corner. When word came over the public-address system that fight films would be shown the next day, the crowd began hooting. "I must have been in a transom," Levinsky said in the locker room. One local paper called the celebrations "the gayest jubilee Chicago's Negroes have ever enjoyed." (In New Orleans, a white policeman who'd bet on Levinsky told a young black celebrant to desist, and when he wouldn't, broke his teeth with a billy club. "You can kill me but Joe Louis is the king of all," the man shouted before being thrown in jail.) As for Louis himself, he telephoned his mother, then looked on indifferently as some black beauty queens were paraded before him at the Savoy Ballroom. His common sense, wrote William Pickens of the Associated Negro Press, was a greater force for good than his skill. "His personality is more impressive than a thousand sermons, for he will be felt where no sermons will ever be heard," he said. Still, the path would not be easy. In Washington, D.C., a sportscaster called Louis a "nigger," prompting numerous complaints.

Immediately after the fight, Mike Jacobs corralled representatives of Louis and Baer in a hotel room, barricaded the door, and hammered out a contract. The fight was set for September 24, and given the lure of the two principals, it promised a crowd unprecedented in New York boxing or New York sports, for that matter. Would Braddock dodge Louis if Louis beat Baer? "Dodge him?" Braddock's manager, Joe Gould, asked. "Say, listen, I'll follow him around just to make sure nothing happens to him." "I don't care who's in the other corner," Braddock said. "I just like a guy who can draw the dough."

And that he seemed to have.

* Wango was a typical black athlete of that time and place, playing the savage for laughs. But audiences loved him, and he became the prime attraction during a tournament there. According to the rabidly Nazi Wango was a typical black athlete of that time and place, playing the savage for laughs. But audiences loved him, and he became the prime attraction during a tournament there. According to the rabidly Nazi Westdeutscher Beobachter, Westdeutscher Beobachter, however, some spectators objected to watching a black man, whose slippery skin gave him an unfair advantage, humiliating white opponents. Worse, German women were cheering him on. Julius Streicher, the local Nazi leader and editor of the Jew-hating however, some spectators objected to watching a black man, whose slippery skin gave him an unfair advantage, humiliating white opponents. Worse, German women were cheering him on. Julius Streicher, the local Nazi leader and editor of the Jew-hating Sturmer, Sturmer, called a halt to this degraded spectacle and banished Wango. The Nazi papers said no more about him, but according to the French magazine called a halt to this degraded spectacle and banished Wango. The Nazi papers said no more about him, but according to the French magazine Journal, Journal, he left Nuremberg for Berlin, where he died suddenly and mysteriously. he left Nuremberg for Berlin, where he died suddenly and mysteriously.* The fight turned out to be more important politically than athletically. The political commissar of Berlin, Julius Lippert, who'd been the fight's sponsor, had promised Schmeling he'd be paid in full notwithstanding the meager turnout. When he balked, Schmeling sued Lippert personally, rather than in his official capacity. The city and Lippert settled quickly, but when they had trouble coming up with the funds, Schmeling threatened to impound Lippert's property. Members of the Berlin city council were furious. One, Karl Protze, called Schmeling a "judische Borsenjobber" (a Jewish stock market gambler)- placing his own greed above the common good-as well as a coward, for taking on an underling when he'd have never challenged, say, Goebbels. Another called Schmeling's behavior "very close to treason," and suggested he'd profit from four weeks in a concentration camp. Noting Schmeling's good relations with Hitler, Goebbels, and Goring, Protze then said it was crucial they be informed about Schmeling's "Jewish behavior." The fight turned out to be more important politically than athletically. The political commissar of Berlin, Julius Lippert, who'd been the fight's sponsor, had promised Schmeling he'd be paid in full notwithstanding the meager turnout. When he balked, Schmeling sued Lippert personally, rather than in his official capacity. The city and Lippert settled quickly, but when they had trouble coming up with the funds, Schmeling threatened to impound Lippert's property. Members of the Berlin city council were furious. One, Karl Protze, called Schmeling a "judische Borsenjobber" (a Jewish stock market gambler)- placing his own greed above the common good-as well as a coward, for taking on an underling when he'd have never challenged, say, Goebbels. Another called Schmeling's behavior "very close to treason," and suggested he'd profit from four weeks in a concentration camp. Noting Schmeling's good relations with Hitler, Goebbels, and Goring, Protze then said it was crucial they be informed about Schmeling's "Jewish behavior."

Champion in Waiting

THE I IMPROVED B BENEVOLENT AND P PROTECTIVE O ORDER OF Elks of the World, aka the Negro Elks, had two honored guests when it convened in Washington in late August 1935: the two most famous black athletes in the world. Jesse Owens, then a student at Ohio State University, was the more accomplished; on a single afternoon two months earlier, he had set three world records in track. To Shirley Povich, then a young sportswriter for Elks of the World, aka the Negro Elks, had two honored guests when it convened in Washington in late August 1935: the two most famous black athletes in the world. Jesse Owens, then a student at Ohio State University, was the more accomplished; on a single afternoon two months earlier, he had set three world records in track. To Shirley Povich, then a young sportswriter for The Washington Post, The Washington Post, he was also the more impressive; smart, nimble-witted, and personable, he was the "epitome of Negro progress." But walking around Washington's black neighborhood with the two men, Povich was amazed by what he saw. People might have recognized Owens's face, but track and field meant little to them, and most didn't know his name. "The gasps, the ah's and the oh's" were for Joe Louis alone. Even Owens stood in awe of him, behaving like "some flunky who knew his place." he was also the more impressive; smart, nimble-witted, and personable, he was the "epitome of Negro progress." But walking around Washington's black neighborhood with the two men, Povich was amazed by what he saw. People might have recognized Owens's face, but track and field meant little to them, and most didn't know his name. "The gasps, the ah's and the oh's" were for Joe Louis alone. Even Owens stood in awe of him, behaving like "some flunky who knew his place."

Louis had arrived in town on August 26, his car escorted by a lone black policeman on a motorcycle. The officer was clearly from Maryland, one paper explained, because Washington had no black motorcycle officers. Louis's host was a local black doctor, whose house was quickly surrounded by mobs of people hoping to catch a glimpse of the contender; among them were many black cooks and maids, some still wearing their aprons. One had simply walked off her job and over to Louis's temporary quarters when her employer refused to let her "get a peek at Joe" during dinnertime.

Louis had a full schedule of activities in the capital. A tour of Washington's "Little Harlem" was marred only by the behavior of the tap dancer Bill "Bojangles" Robinson, whose shuffle and jive threatened to undermine Louis's manicured image of seriousness and dignity. There was a press conference at Howard University, then an "all-colored boxing show" at Griffith Stadium, for which one of the largest fight crowds in Washington's history paid anywhere from 80 cents to $2.20 to see Louis. "Just to see him," one reporter wrote incredulously. "He didn't fight, he didn't referee, he didn't work as a second, he didn't tap dance, he didn't sing, he didn't, to come to the point, do anything." Introduced as "the forthcoming champion of the world," Louis was once more speechless. "How you, Mr. President?" he asked Franklin D. Roosevelt later at the White House, smiling as he shook the president's hand. "Joe, you certainly are a fine looking young man," Roosevelt told him. (The real question, the Amsterdam News Amsterdam News boasted, was "whether it was Joe Louis who greeted the President of the United States or the President of the United States who greeted Joe Louis.") boasted, was "whether it was Joe Louis who greeted the President of the United States or the President of the United States who greeted Joe Louis.")* "Impossible," one German newspaper called their encounter; it only underlined anew how Germany would have to uphold the honor of the white race by itself. "Impossible," one German newspaper called their encounter; it only underlined anew how Germany would have to uphold the honor of the white race by itself.

By August 1935, Louis was receiving more than a thousand letters a week. (One letter, from New York, was addressed simply to "The Punch Without the Smile.") One pillar of Louis's reputation was that he never pitched items, like liquor and tobacco, that he didn't use himself. But his name started appearing in the black weeklies alongside other products. There was Esso, the only gasoline used in his training camp, "smooth and full of punch." And Murray's Superior Hair Pomade, thanks to which Carnera hadn't even mussed up Louis's coiffure. And Fletcher's Castoria, which neatly linked motherhood, upward mobility, and regularity. The black papers became Louis's public bankbooks, offering regular accountings of his wealth. After the Levinsky fight, his earnings stood at $120,000; of that, $40,000 had gone to his managers, another $20,000 to taxes, $7,200 to buy himself a Lincoln, and $2,800 for his mother's Buick. Some saw the Lincoln, which looked like something Rudolph Valentino might have driven, as the first step down the pugilist's familiar path to profligacy. But this still left Louis with a tidy sum; no one, he boasted, would ever be holding any benefits for him. him. Louis's mother even repaid the $269 she had collected on relief seven years earlier. All this money made Louis an alluring target. Churches needed new roofs, women needed their teeth fixed, farmers needed new trucks, children needed boxing equipment. Some requests came in heartbreaking, handwritten scrawls, like one from a widow in Meridian, Mississippi, penned on the back of a brown paper bag. "Send me some money so that I won't be put out of house and home," she pleaded. After a black inmate from Oklahoma asked for, and received, ten dollars from Louis, every black prisoner in the penitentiary sent his own request. Louis's mother even repaid the $269 she had collected on relief seven years earlier. All this money made Louis an alluring target. Churches needed new roofs, women needed their teeth fixed, farmers needed new trucks, children needed boxing equipment. Some requests came in heartbreaking, handwritten scrawls, like one from a widow in Meridian, Mississippi, penned on the back of a brown paper bag. "Send me some money so that I won't be put out of house and home," she pleaded. After a black inmate from Oklahoma asked for, and received, ten dollars from Louis, every black prisoner in the penitentiary sent his own request.

Many letters offered Louis advice, some free and some costly, like the man demanding $1,000 for the secret to beating Baer. Louis was inundated with rabbits' feet and other amulets. There were love letters, too, from the enraptured and the opportunistic. "You really is my kind of man," went one. "I don't like no weakling and a man like you should have a woman like me." A seventy-eight-year-old woman sent Louis two dollars for him to bet on himself. Louis inspired numerous poems, many appearing as letters to the editor. And following the Carnera fight, there appeared what may well have been the first Joe Louis song, Joe Pullam's "Joe Louis Is the Man." It praised his modesty, his dress, and his kindness to his mother, and said he was "bound to be the next champion of the world." Memphis Minnie's "He's in the Ring (Doin' the Same Old Thing)," recorded nine days later, related how she'd "chanced" all her money that Louis's latest opponent wouldn't last a round: I wouldn't even pay my house rent I wouldn't buy me nothin to eat Joe Louis said "Take a chance with me, I'm gonna put you up on your feet!" He's in the ring (he's still fightin!) Doin the same old thing!

Eventually, there would be dozens of songs, exponentially more than for any American sports figure before or since. A composer and musician named Claude Austin went a step further, writing an operetta on Louis's life. Paul Robeson was reportedly to be cast in the lead.

The Amsterdam News Amsterdam News formed a Joe Louis Boys Club to train youngsters in the manly art as well as in clean living and thinking. An advertisement in the formed a Joe Louis Boys Club to train youngsters in the manly art as well as in clean living and thinking. An advertisement in the Chicago Defender Chicago Defender called a new book on Louis "a worth while called a new book on Louis "a worth while [sic] [sic] addition to the library of every home." Parents, Ralph Matthews wrote in the addition to the library of every home." Parents, Ralph Matthews wrote in the Baltimore Afro-American, Baltimore Afro-American, had found Louis a more effective deterrent than the hairbrush and a greater inspiration than George Washington. Even little white kids were calling themselves "Joe Louis"; "When white children want to be called by a Negro's name, that is news," wrote Gordon Hancock in the had found Louis a more effective deterrent than the hairbrush and a greater inspiration than George Washington. Even little white kids were calling themselves "Joe Louis"; "When white children want to be called by a Negro's name, that is news," wrote Gordon Hancock in the Norfolk Journal and Guide. Norfolk Journal and Guide. Some white intellectuals, like Carl Van Vechten, the semiofficial photographer of the Harlem Renaissance, were also excited. "Aren't the papers wonderful about Joe Louis, and isn't Joe Louis wonderful?" he wrote to the black writer James Weldon Johnson. "Hitler and Mussolini have done their part to make Americans fairer to Negroes, quite a big part, too!" Some white intellectuals, like Carl Van Vechten, the semiofficial photographer of the Harlem Renaissance, were also excited. "Aren't the papers wonderful about Joe Louis, and isn't Joe Louis wonderful?" he wrote to the black writer James Weldon Johnson. "Hitler and Mussolini have done their part to make Americans fairer to Negroes, quite a big part, too!"

For all the scrutiny of Louis's life, nothing had surfaced yet about Marva Trotter, the young Chicago stenographer. But speculation about his love life was rife in the black press, and understandably so, for it had great implications for everyone. "The last thing I wanted Joe and Jesse [Owens] to do was fall in love," stated the Pittsburgh Courier's Pittsburgh Courier's "Talk O' Town" column in July. "It will take the power out of their punch ... it will rob them of the physical prowess that has set an entire nation wild. ... Joe, you have got to be the champ ... then go Mormon, I don't care." Any athlete who marries is "usually no good for a year," the "Talk O' Town" column in July. "It will take the power out of their punch ... it will rob them of the physical prowess that has set an entire nation wild. ... Joe, you have got to be the champ ... then go Mormon, I don't care." Any athlete who marries is "usually no good for a year," the Afro-American Afro-American warned. But if Louis had to have a girl, the warned. But if Louis had to have a girl, the Amsterdam News Amsterdam News pleaded, let it be a black one. There was, one letter writer pointed out, no shortage of attractive candidates, especially in Harlem, "where our beauticians are prepared to use every beauty appliance necessary." In mid-August the pleaded, let it be a black one. There was, one letter writer pointed out, no shortage of attractive candidates, especially in Harlem, "where our beauticians are prepared to use every beauty appliance necessary." In mid-August the Defender Defender announced that Louis and Marva were engaged. Louis denied it, but he called Marva every night from his training camp, squeezing into a phone booth with a pocketful of change, sweating so profusely that it got his trainers worried. But soon Louis proposed to her over the phone, and she was "not overlong making up her mind." There would be no more pictures of her taking dictation; "Miss Trotter, who had been employed in the office of a Chicago dentist, has resigned that position," the announced that Louis and Marva were engaged. Louis denied it, but he called Marva every night from his training camp, squeezing into a phone booth with a pocketful of change, sweating so profusely that it got his trainers worried. But soon Louis proposed to her over the phone, and she was "not overlong making up her mind." There would be no more pictures of her taking dictation; "Miss Trotter, who had been employed in the office of a Chicago dentist, has resigned that position," the Defender Defender solemnly announced. Marva soon sported a three-carat diamond-"so massive and sparkling that any Queen would want it"-and was buying herself a gigantic wardrobe and furniture for the couple's new apartment. If, as some suspected, Roxborough and Black had engineered the whole thing, they had selected well. "Marva is an old-fashioned girl, sweet, clean, modest, pretty," the solemnly announced. Marva soon sported a three-carat diamond-"so massive and sparkling that any Queen would want it"-and was buying herself a gigantic wardrobe and furniture for the couple's new apartment. If, as some suspected, Roxborough and Black had engineered the whole thing, they had selected well. "Marva is an old-fashioned girl, sweet, clean, modest, pretty," the Afro-American Afro-American wrote. "She has intelligence, poise, common sense. She has personality and is a pleasant, friendly type who makes friends because she is cheerful and kindly." Most important, she was black. wrote. "She has intelligence, poise, common sense. She has personality and is a pleasant, friendly type who makes friends because she is cheerful and kindly." Most important, she was black.

Louis and Marva discussed their engagement in the Chicago Tribune. Chicago Tribune. "Sure, she can cook southern fried chicken," Louis told the paper. "Yes, and she can broil steak, too, with French fried potatoes." (The black press was more candid, admitting that Marva had never prepared an entire meal.) Louis said they'd marry within a few days of the Baer fight; Roxbor-ough said it might happen later that very night. Baer claimed to be happy over the turn of events. "Louis' mind will be on the girl friend when he is in there against me," he said. "And when you're fighting anyone, especially me, you have to think of boxing all the time." A poll in the "Sure, she can cook southern fried chicken," Louis told the paper. "Yes, and she can broil steak, too, with French fried potatoes." (The black press was more candid, admitting that Marva had never prepared an entire meal.) Louis said they'd marry within a few days of the Baer fight; Roxbor-ough said it might happen later that very night. Baer claimed to be happy over the turn of events. "Louis' mind will be on the girl friend when he is in there against me," he said. "And when you're fighting anyone, especially me, you have to think of boxing all the time." A poll in the Pittsburgh Courier Pittsburgh Courier revealed that of fifteen people in Detroit "representing all walks of life," eleven opposed Louis's marriage to Marva-or to anyone else, for that matter. "If this girl really loves Joe she won't be so selfish as to hinder his career," a female cashier declared. As Memphis Minnie had sung, Louis's fans had a stake in him. "I reckon he knows what he's a-doing, at least I hope so 'cause we have put our life's savings on his fight with Baer," said Rufus Peterson, a laborer. (In fact, marriage was to make little difference to Louis; he strayed almost from the very beginning. "He'd go for coffee and come back three days later," his longtime lawyer, Truman Gibson, later recalled.) revealed that of fifteen people in Detroit "representing all walks of life," eleven opposed Louis's marriage to Marva-or to anyone else, for that matter. "If this girl really loves Joe she won't be so selfish as to hinder his career," a female cashier declared. As Memphis Minnie had sung, Louis's fans had a stake in him. "I reckon he knows what he's a-doing, at least I hope so 'cause we have put our life's savings on his fight with Baer," said Rufus Peterson, a laborer. (In fact, marriage was to make little difference to Louis; he strayed almost from the very beginning. "He'd go for coffee and come back three days later," his longtime lawyer, Truman Gibson, later recalled.) Box-Sport Box-Sport ran Marva's picture, along with the usual racial analysis. "She is a mixed-blood ran Marva's picture, along with the usual racial analysis. "She is a mixed-blood [ein Mischblut], [ein Mischblut], just like Joe Louis," it explained. just like Joe Louis," it explained.

Louis had hoped to train for the Baer fight at the Sulphur Springs Hotel in Saratoga Springs, New York, where Dempsey and Tunney, among others, had once readied themselves, but the hotel was not interested in a black man's business. Louis, the black press reported, had been stopped dead in his tracks by Jim Crow, white. So he landed back at Pompton Lakes. He tried to run a disciplined camp, closing the bar because drinkers "become pestiferous and interfere no little with my daily routines," the Chicago Defender Chicago Defender had him saying. But visitors still came. One Sunday, there were four thousand of them, three-quarters from Harlem. Three black teenagers took ten days to bicycle 750 miles from Detroit. After Louis declined to speak to some two hundred Baptist clergymen gathered in New York, the clergymen came down to see him. "If they can learn to put as many punches into their sermons as Joe Louis did in one round of the Levinsky fight, their congregations will be benefited immensely," the had him saying. But visitors still came. One Sunday, there were four thousand of them, three-quarters from Harlem. Three black teenagers took ten days to bicycle 750 miles from Detroit. After Louis declined to speak to some two hundred Baptist clergymen gathered in New York, the clergymen came down to see him. "If they can learn to put as many punches into their sermons as Joe Louis did in one round of the Levinsky fight, their congregations will be benefited immensely," the Afro-American Afro-American declared. Also stopping by were Walter White, Charles Hamilton Houston, and Roy Wilkins of the NAACP. "Joe Louis impressed me as a quiet, well-mannered boy who wants to be let alone because he has work to do," Wilkins wrote afterward. When Louis wasn't punching, he was reportedly studying history, math, geography, the New Testament, the life of Booker T. Washington, the Italo-African conflict, and etiquette. declared. Also stopping by were Walter White, Charles Hamilton Houston, and Roy Wilkins of the NAACP. "Joe Louis impressed me as a quiet, well-mannered boy who wants to be let alone because he has work to do," Wilkins wrote afterward. When Louis wasn't punching, he was reportedly studying history, math, geography, the New Testament, the life of Booker T. Washington, the Italo-African conflict, and etiquette.

Whites who studied Louis continued to offer conflicting images of nobility and animalism. Not since Othello, Esquire Esquire observed, had there been a black warrior with half his quiet power. "He lives like an animal, untouched by externals," Gallico wrote. "Is he all instinct, all animal? Or have a hundred million years left a fold upon his brain?" Were a prizefight purely a matter of physicality, Gallico maintained, Louis would prevail. But Gallico was going with Baer, because Baer was more of a human being, with a human being's impulse to win. observed, had there been a black warrior with half his quiet power. "He lives like an animal, untouched by externals," Gallico wrote. "Is he all instinct, all animal? Or have a hundred million years left a fold upon his brain?" Were a prizefight purely a matter of physicality, Gallico maintained, Louis would prevail. But Gallico was going with Baer, because Baer was more of a human being, with a human being's impulse to win.

Others agreed in their own way that Louis was an entity apart. "The Ring Robot," Edward Van Every of the Sun Sun dubbed him, "... a thing of gears and pistons in human guise that has been brought to the shop for oiling and tuning up." There was bafflement and resentment that Louis did not conform to type. "He can fight, sure," one white fan complained. "But I like a colored fighter to have something more than that. I like those wild, happy-go-lucky, easy-come-easy-go kind of fighters. This Louis, he's just a dumb, cold guy.... He don't give you no kick." Black writers countered that Louis was perfectly sociable with dubbed him, "... a thing of gears and pistons in human guise that has been brought to the shop for oiling and tuning up." There was bafflement and resentment that Louis did not conform to type. "He can fight, sure," one white fan complained. "But I like a colored fighter to have something more than that. I like those wild, happy-go-lucky, easy-come-easy-go kind of fighters. This Louis, he's just a dumb, cold guy.... He don't give you no kick." Black writers countered that Louis was perfectly sociable with them. them. "Among ofays, who seem to bewilder him, he is strangely shy," not the "laughing, mischievous boy" blacks saw, Roi Ottley wrote in the "Among ofays, who seem to bewilder him, he is strangely shy," not the "laughing, mischievous boy" blacks saw, Roi Ottley wrote in the Amsterdam News. Amsterdam News. But even they complained sometimes of getting only nods and grunts; to one, six words from Louis marked a new personal high. Once, Louis walked out as Ralph Matthews of the But even they complained sometimes of getting only nods and grunts; to one, six words from Louis marked a new personal high. Once, Louis walked out as Ralph Matthews of the Baltimore Afro-American Baltimore Afro-American asked him something, leaving the newsman alone with a statue. "The statue was a social sort of fellow by comparison," Matthews wrote. asked him something, leaving the newsman alone with a statue. "The statue was a social sort of fellow by comparison," Matthews wrote.

Baer, meantime, trained in Speculator, New York, a small lakeside hamlet in the Adirondacks that Tunney had made famous in the 1920s. The idea was to drag him as far away from the bright lights of Broadway as possible. But the strategy backfired: in the sticks, it turned out, there was little for Baer to do but think of Louis. Bucking Baer up, at least publicly, was Jack Dempsey, who had joined his entourage. Louis, Dempsey said, had only knocked out boxers with "paper chins." It took four years to develop a first-class fighter, and Louis still hadn't put in his time.

New York had had its share of big fights. Dempsey's bout against Luis Angel Firpo in the Polo Grounds in 1923, immortalized by the painter George Bellows, had drawn eighty-two thousand people; the first Schmeling-Sharkey fight drew nearly that. But these were either before the stock market had crashed or before it had fully sunk in. Now, weeks before Louis and Baer were to square off, long lines formed outside Mike Jacobs's ticket offices. A cable came from a ship at sea, ordering six ringside seats. Jacobs set aside one thousand press seats, the most ever. There was talk of the first million-dollar gate in eight years. "Joe Louis: Will This Black Moses Lead the Fight Business Back into Its Promised Land?" Fortune Fortune magazine asked. A meeting of the Buffalo school board had to be postponed because most of its members were going to New York. A notice went up in the offices of the Sleeping Car Porters: "All those who, because of their grandmothers' illness or death or for any other important reason, require vacation, are asked to make this known at least three days before the Baer-Louis fight." magazine asked. A meeting of the Buffalo school board had to be postponed because most of its members were going to New York. A notice went up in the offices of the Sleeping Car Porters: "All those who, because of their grandmothers' illness or death or for any other important reason, require vacation, are asked to make this known at least three days before the Baer-Louis fight."

On September 20 the "bride-elect" arrived in Harlem, along with five pieces of matching luggage stuffed with fifty new dresses, two silver fox furs, twenty-five nightgowns, five negligees, and various accessories. Chicago's largest department stores and the smartest shops had vied for Marva's business, and everyone, including people close to Roxborough and Black, had urged her to patronize places like Marshall Field's or I. Magnin. But instead the "winsome lass" had taken her trade to Mae's Dress Shoppe, owned and run by blacks, thereby setting what one black newspaper called "an example of fidelity to racial business institutions... which could bring shame to the cheeks of most of our racial leaders and saviors, to say nothing of their wives." Marva installed herself in the first-floor apartment of a friend at 381 Edgecomb Avenue, the building where Duke Ellington lived, in the Sugar Hill section of Harlem. Word was that she would not see her husband-to-be until after the fight.

Harlem was more alive than ever. "New York was the delta, and towns, cities and the hinterlands like rivers flowing into a great sea were filtering their human cargo into its fold," Billy Rowe wrote in the Pittsburgh Courier. Pittsburgh Courier. Sure, some unbrotherly price gouging was going on, he admitted, but "Joe Louis only happens along once in a century." "The entire colored population of greater New York and New Jersey, from page-boys, bell-hops, and boot-blacks to the colored money baron, from the colored chambermaid to the Creole diva, they are all already saving their dollars in order to witness the battle of the century, which will be repeated if Louis wins and Max Schmeling steps up," Sure, some unbrotherly price gouging was going on, he admitted, but "Joe Louis only happens along once in a century." "The entire colored population of greater New York and New Jersey, from page-boys, bell-hops, and boot-blacks to the colored money baron, from the colored chambermaid to the Creole diva, they are all already saving their dollars in order to witness the battle of the century, which will be repeated if Louis wins and Max Schmeling steps up," Box-Sport Box-Sport reported. "Race consciousness, class differences, until now un-crossable boundaries and unwritten laws have all crumbled under the fists of this knock-out specialist. We hope that the 'white blood' and the spirit of the white race, despite all mixing, will prove to be the stronger and more vital." But even Goebbels's reported. "Race consciousness, class differences, until now un-crossable boundaries and unwritten laws have all crumbled under the fists of this knock-out specialist. We hope that the 'white blood' and the spirit of the white race, despite all mixing, will prove to be the stronger and more vital." But even Goebbels's Angriff Angriff caught some of the excitement. The recent crisis in professional boxing was likely to get "a first-class funeral tonight," it said on the eve of the fight. caught some of the excitement. The recent crisis in professional boxing was likely to get "a first-class funeral tonight," it said on the eve of the fight.

By that point, choice seats were going for $200 or more. Restaurants and nightclubs had trouble changing all the hundred-dollar bills that out-of-towners had brought with them. "I haven't seen bills like that since 1928," one recipient claimed. "Maybe the Depression is over." Hotel rooms were so scarce that people were parking near the stadium and sleeping in their cars. For two days straight, the New York Central Railroad broke records for incoming traffic. "Up to just a few months ago, no one believed the fistic game would ever again see the wild excitement and the terrific receipts of the fat days of the mid-twenties, when everybody had money," Runyon wrote. "Then suddenly, out of the West came stalking a brown-skinned, sad-eyed, serious boy just turning his majority, with a strange genius for this strangest of sports... and lo! the roar of the fight crowd again echoed over the land." Underlying the fervor was race. To Gallico, there was "something Roman" about throwing a Jew and a black man in the ring together.

Louis was the favorite, but as the fight approached, the odds fell a bit. Rumors persisted that Baer had thrown the Braddock fight. Some thought insiders had decreed that a black man had gone far enough. And skeptics like O. B. Keeler of the Atlanta Journal Atlanta Journal still insisted Louis had beaten only "an array of palookas of purest ray serene." Then the odds rose again, to two and a half to one, amid reports that Baer had hurt his hand. Roxbor-ough and Black demanded that a guard be posted around Baer to assure he did not receive any injections. Fleischer subsequently disclosed that Baer had in fact received a shot of "cocaine" shortly before entering the ring. still insisted Louis had beaten only "an array of palookas of purest ray serene." Then the odds rose again, to two and a half to one, amid reports that Baer had hurt his hand. Roxbor-ough and Black demanded that a guard be posted around Baer to assure he did not receive any injections. Fleischer subsequently disclosed that Baer had in fact received a shot of "cocaine" shortly before entering the ring.*

For the weigh-in, five thousand people gathered outside the boxing commission's offices in lower Manhattan, and mounted police had to disperse them to let Louis-who'd alighted from Duke Ellington's car-get through. Pulling an old prizefighter's dodge, Baer kept Louis waiting for an hour, just to rile him up. But Louis looked at the funnies-they didn't make him smile, either-and took a nap. When Baer finally did arrive, wearing what a British reporter called "the loudest suit even Broadway had seen for years," he was grinning. The doctors examined Louis. "If my heart ain't just right, doctor, it's because I ain't et yet," he told one of them. "You could fight twice," one of the doctors replied. Baer, too, got a clean bill of health, bum hand and all. But Baer seemed tense, and one writer who had called for Louis in eight rounds promptly shaved three off his prediction.

The odds stabilized at eight to five. It was one of the biggest betting fights in history; Bill Robinson placed $10,000 on Louis, then had Shirley Temple rub some well-cooked salt into his hand for luck. At a Bowery flophouse, one man hocked his shoes for fifty cents to bet on Louis. In Brooklyn, a white woman and a black woman bet their respective relief checks. In Livermore, California, the farming and cattle town twenty miles east of Oakland where Baer grew up, residents wagered $12,000 on their favorite son. "To hell with the foreman," one worker on relief told another as they waited in line for cheap seats. "We'll tell him we were sick." An elderly black cleaning woman who made three dollars a week said she had been saving for two months to buy herself a seat in the bleachers.

After the weigh-in, Louis went for a walk along the Harlem River, then to the sixth floor of 381 Edgecomb Avenue, upstairs from where Marva was staying, for a nap. Around seven, he got up, showered, put on a double-breasted suit, and went down to Marva's quarters on the first floor. Two and a half hours remained before the fight-plenty of time, it turned out, to get married.

All day long, Louis and his handlers had denied there would be any wedding. But Marva told her fiance she wanted to watch the fight as Mrs. Joe Louis. Blackburn believed the prospect of coming home to his bride would inspire Louis to work quickly. Around seven-thirty, a marriage license, with the names left blank, arrived from the city clerk's office. Louis was joined by Marva, who'd negotiated her way between floors by a rear fire escape. She was wearing a white velvet gown with "real ermine" at the neck, along with white shoes and a corsage of gardenias and lilies of the valley. Officiating was the bride's brother, a minister from Iowa. Two of Marva's sisters attended her. Roxborough, Black, Blackburn, Mike Jacobs, and a few others were the guests. The service started at a quarter to eight, and was quickly over. After kissing the bride Louis begged off; he had a date, he explained, with a fellow named Max Baer. A few minutes past eight, someone stepped outside to tell the waiting throng the history that had just been made. People screamed with delight. A police emergency squad cleared the crowd, and at 8:10 Louis, wearing an olive green hat and topcoat, got into a car bound for Yankee Stadium. Half an hour later, as the first telegrams began to arrive, Marva followed her husband.

At the stadium, the demand for tickets could not be stanched "any more than you could take a broom and dam Niagara." A Long Island horseman paid $400 apiece for a block of ringside seats. A cabdriver watched four passengers pay $2,000 for seats, then hand him a two-dollar bill for a $1.90 fare. From dinnertime on, the subways were jammed. It was a festive crowd, though there were complaints that no blacks were on the undercard, and picketers from the Non-Sectarian Anti-Nazi League protested American participation in the 1936 Berlin Olympics. Officially, the paid attendance was 83,462, an all-time record for a sporting event in New York, excluding horse racing. With free tickets, press passes, and employees, the turnstile count exceeded 90,000. And with police, firemen, inspectors, attendants, and gate-crashers thrown in, there were more than 95,000 there that memorable night. Even the dugouts were filled. Another 25,000 people stood outside, following the action by taxicab radios and roars. Including the sale of radio and movie rights, the gate squeezed past the hallowed million-dollar mark-the first time that had ever happened in a fight in which Jack Dempsey wasn't on the card, and these were scarce Depression dollars at that. Louis would get $217,337, Baer $181,114. Some 35,000 of the fans were black, and they came early, more eager to share in the occasion than to impress anyone with late entries. By seven o'clock "the outer fringes of the stadium looked like Addis Ababa."

Around the ring, which sat as usual on the outfield side of second base, were Governor Lehman, Mayor La Guardia, one of Franklin D. Roosevelt's sons, Bert Lahr, Al Jolson, George Burns and Gracie Allen, Conde Nast, Edward G. Robinson, Cary Grant, Irving Berlin, James Cagney, and George Raft. Cab Calloway and Duke Ellington were also on hand. So were the white actors who played Amos and Andy, who, for the first time, were missing a broadcast. Jack Johnson was there, as was Carnera. Marva, dressed in green with a shoulder corsage of white gardenias, a fur collar, and a felt hat, sat in the twenty-fifth row. Millions listened as Edwin C. Hill, a voice familiar from newsreels, described what he called "the most amazing spectacle of modern times." For all of the dignitaries on hand, what most impressed him was the large number of women-a throwback, he speculated, to prehistoric days. Everywhere, Hill went on, people were more interested in whether the "Jungle Man" would best the "Jester" than in the threat of war in Europe.

Baer panicked as he was summoned to the ring. Call off the fight! he declared in his dressing room: he was having chest pains, or a heart attack, or something. An incredulous Dempsey practically had to drag him into the ring. To Braddock, Baer looked like someone going to the electric chair. Louis sat impassively as Joe Humphreys, the longtime ring announcer who'd come of age before microphones got good, emerged from retirement to shout out one final set of introductions. He called Louis "the new sensational, pugilistic product" who, "although colored ... stands out in the same class as with Jack Johnson and Sam Langford-the idol of his people."

For the play-by-play, Hill yielded the radio microphone to Clem McCarthy, who was making his debut in a boxing match. NBC executives had been unhappy over prior fight broadcasts, and had held auditions for replacements, with aspirants going into gyms and barking out their calls. McCarthy, an experienced horse-racing announcer, had opted instead to read a script he'd written. At a time when so much of radio was scripted, it won the day. He sat on his typewriter so that his chin was level with the ring. Another mike was installed near the arc lights to pick up the punches and the din.

Shortly before the fight, the "Inquiring Reporter" of the Norfolk Journal and Guide Norfolk Journal and Guide asked for predictions. "I dreamed about the fight not long ago and Louis was hitting Max Baer so fast the man who was broadcasting could only say 'Louis, Louis, Louis,'" one man replied. And that's pretty much how it was. Baer groped, punched wildly, and looked so lost that Louis thought he was throwing the fight. Meanwhile, the Bomber picked Baer apart. Within moments, the outcome was clear. In the second round, Baer kept missing, while Louis landed a series of powerful punches. Baer's face, Hill said, was "a bloody wreck." In the third, Baer went down for the first time, and then the second time, in his career. A black man near ringside jumped to his feet. "Kill him, Joe! Kill him!" he shouted. "Please don't do that," someone in Louis's corner turned around and told him. "We don't want that sort ofthing. It will do the boy harm." Dempsey put his hands over his face. "Over against the ropes, and there was a hard smash to the head, and Baer is down!" McCarthy shouted. At eight he was back up. He was down again when the bell saved him at three. asked for predictions. "I dreamed about the fight not long ago and Louis was hitting Max Baer so fast the man who was broadcasting could only say 'Louis, Louis, Louis,'" one man replied. And that's pretty much how it was. Baer groped, punched wildly, and looked so lost that Louis thought he was throwing the fight. Meanwhile, the Bomber picked Baer apart. Within moments, the outcome was clear. In the second round, Baer kept missing, while Louis landed a series of powerful punches. Baer's face, Hill said, was "a bloody wreck." In the third, Baer went down for the first time, and then the second time, in his career. A black man near ringside jumped to his feet. "Kill him, Joe! Kill him!" he shouted. "Please don't do that," someone in Louis's corner turned around and told him. "We don't want that sort ofthing. It will do the boy harm." Dempsey put his hands over his face. "Over against the ropes, and there was a hard smash to the head, and Baer is down!" McCarthy shouted. At eight he was back up. He was down again when the bell saved him at three.

By the fourth round, even "the Negro who came here all the way from Alabama to sit on the back row in the far away centerfield bleachers" knew the end was near. Louis kept stabbing Baer with his left, and when that didn't work, he cut through with a right. By one count, he missed only two punches all night. Finally, a blow sounding like a firecracker exploding under a can struck home and Baer tumbled. "Through it all, the fleeting action of a second, a low rumble had started, the distant thunder of the gallery gods heralding a storm," wrote Arch Ward of the Chicago Tribune. Chicago Tribune. "It came on, outstripping any electrical eruption for speed, swelling into a wild roar as tier after tier of maddened humans caught it up until it broke in all its fury over the gleaming square.... Eighty-five thousand persons, gone suddenly mad with excitement, were desperately yelling encouragement to the sinking Baer or shouting cheer to the attacking Louis, all individuality lost in one hoarse, guttural rumble, as the shrill barks of many field pieces far off may be mistaken for the tremendous belching of one giant gun. It was bedlam, nothing less." "It came on, outstripping any electrical eruption for speed, swelling into a wild roar as tier after tier of maddened humans caught it up until it broke in all its fury over the gleaming square.... Eighty-five thousand persons, gone suddenly mad with excitement, were desperately yelling encouragement to the sinking Baer or shouting cheer to the attacking Louis, all individuality lost in one hoarse, guttural rumble, as the shrill barks of many field pieces far off may be mistaken for the tremendous belching of one giant gun. It was bedlam, nothing less."

Sure he had scored the winner, Louis retreated to his corner without even turning around to look. In fact, Baer was up on his knee at four. He could hear the count, but his legs were numb. "There were so many Joe Louises in front of me it looked like all Harlem had jumped into the ring," he said afterward. Donovan counted him out. Never had he seen anyone take so many murderous punches; one more, he feared, and Louis might have broken Baer's neck. Years later Louis said he was never better than he was that night. That a man so ferocious had married only moments before was simply unfathomable to some. "I wonder if his new bride's heart beat a little with fear that this terrible thing was hers," Gallico wrote. It didn't. Marva had come to Yankee Stadium in a limousine; now, along with four girlfriends, she giddily returned to Harlem in a streetcar, happily springing for the nickel fare.

Baer, bleeding so profusely that he looked to one reporter like an Apache in war paint, was jeered as he left the ring. When he got to his dressing room, he demanded a cigarette and a beer. "I guess I could have got up again but what was the use?" he asked. "He had me licked." The press was merciless; Ed Sullivan and Ernest Hemingway called him a coward. But Baer didn't care. "When I get executed, people are going to pay more than $25 for a seat to watch it," he said. He signed autographs "Max Baer-Palooka."

"That's a great fighter, the greatest I ever saw, I guess," Dempsey said of Louis as he climbed out of the ring. As for Louis himself, he said he'd faced tougher opponents in the Golden Gloves. "If you folks is all through, I'd kinda like to go home," he told the reporters after a decent interval. "I'm a married man now, you know." A crowd at 381 Edgecomb Avenue awaited Louis's return, and it took six policemen to get him on the elevator. Around one in the morning, the Chicago Defender Chicago Defender later reported, Louis and Marva went out to the Cotton Club; they returned around two-thirty, then went to bed. Around four they were awakened by a sound below their window. A tin-can band was serenading them. later reported, Louis and Marva went out to the Cotton Club; they returned around two-thirty, then went to bed. Around four they were awakened by a sound below their window. A tin-can band was serenading them.

Inside the stadium, under police surveillance, blacks had been subdued, but outside afterward, a few of them executed handstands and then sprinted away, as if rushing the news back to Harlem. Of course, Harlem already knew; some 200,000 people were quickly on its streets. The Savoy Ballroom had to close its doors, while at the Ubangi, the Cotton Club, Small's Paradise, Big Apple, Pirate, and Horseshoe Bar, there wasn't even standing room. "Why attempt to describe it?" the Amsterdam News Amsterdam News wrote of the scene. "You probably were in it." Never had there been anything like it, nor could there have been; when Johnson knocked out Jeffries in 1910, Harlem had been too small and too scared to celebrate. wrote of the scene. "You probably were in it." Never had there been anything like it, nor could there have been; when Johnson knocked out Jeffries in 1910, Harlem had been too small and too scared to celebrate.

Downtown, the hot spots were jammed. At "21," tables were set up in the foyer for the first time. At the Stork Club, Sherman Billingsley turned away seven hundred people. "Forget repeal. Forget Prohibition. Not since the old days, before Prohibition, has there been such a night on Broadway," said the headwaiter at the French Casino.

Not a single call had come in to the Detroit Fire Department during the fight, and only three came in to the police, one asking who'd won. Cars cruised up and down the streets in Paradise Valley, the center of black Detroit. "With one hand on the horn button and the other waving out the window, each driver let the world know Joe Louis had won," a local paper reported. In Memphis, "Joe Louis has driven the blues away from Beale Street," and outside town "many a cotton picker was sluggish and red-eyed in the field today." In Portsmouth, Virginia, streets in the black neighborhood became "noisy canyons of romping humanity."

Richard Wright described the forces Louis unleashed on Chicago's South Side: They seeped out of doorways, oozed from alleys, trickled out of tenements, and flowed down the street: a fluid mass of joy.... Four centuries of oppression, of frustrated hopes, of black bitterness, felt even in the bones of the bewildered young, were rising to the surface. Yes, unconsciously, they had imputed to the brawny image of Joe Louis all the balked dreams of revenge, all the secretly visualized moments of retaliation, AND HE HAD WON AND HE HAD WON! Good Gawd Almighty! Yes, by Jesus, it could be done! Didn't Joe do it? ... Joe was the concentrated essence of black triumph over white. And it came so seldom, so seldom. And what could be sweeter than long nourished hate vicariously gratified? From the symbol of Joe's strength they took strength, and in that moment all fear, all obstacles were wiped out, drowned.

In other places, joy transmogrified into anger. In Baltimore, revelers threw cabbages, old shoes, bricks, and tin cans at cars driven by whites. An unsuspecting white farmer carrying a truckload of tomatoes through a black neighborhood unwittingly furnished the protesters with an entire arsenal, which they threw at policemen. Cincinnati experienced two days of violence. In Utica, New York, an interracial street brawl tied up traffic.

To those who followed the sport, the face of boxing had changed, but would not change again for a while. "Some young fellow now playing marbles or spinning a top" would be the first person to beat Louis, Grant-land Rice predicted. Ernest Hemingway called Louis "too good to be true, and absolutely true." He wrote, "We who have seen him now, light on his feet, smooth moving as a leopard, a young man with an old man's science, the most beautiful fighting machine that I have ever seen, may live to see him fat, slow, old and bald taking a beating from a younger man. But I would like to hazard a prediction that whoever beats Joe Louis in an honest fight in the next fifteen years will have to get up off the floor to do it."

Fleischer praised Louis so effusively and incessantly that Ring Ring readers accused him of disloyalty to his race. "Warning: To my friend Max Schmeling-Stay in Germany," wrote Gallico. "Have no truck with this man. He will do something to you from which you will never fully recover. You haven't a chance.... And besides, Der Fuehrer wouldn't like the pictures." readers accused him of disloyalty to his race. "Warning: To my friend Max Schmeling-Stay in Germany," wrote Gallico. "Have no truck with this man. He will do something to you from which you will never fully recover. You haven't a chance.... And besides, Der Fuehrer wouldn't like the pictures."

The next morning, as reporters and photographers recorded the scene, the newlyweds went out for a stroll. "Mr. Louis, what makes you happier, to beat Baer or to be married to this charming lady?" someone shouted. "I think to be married," he replied. Who would he rather fight, Braddock or Schmeling? Braddock, he replied: "Much easier, and the championship, too." "Mrs. Louis, what did you think of your husband?" "I thought he was grand," Mrs. Louis replied. Praise rained down on Louis all day, but his expression never changed-not even when Mike Jacobs handed him a check for $217,337.93. Three evenings later, people standing near the corner of 138th Street and Seventh Avenue happened upon an impromptu, serendipitous show: Jack Johnson was reenacting the fight.

Only Schmeling and Braddock now stood between Louis and the title, and neither seemed very formidable. (To Sharkey, in fact, Louis's most formidable obstacle was Louis himself. "Joe will be the kingpin as long as he keeps his head about him," he said. But the money could wreak havoc: "The first thing he knows he'll find training distasteful. He'll loaf for a month or two and then, when a big bout is announced, say two months hence-he'll keep putting off the starting time for the daily workouts. By that time training will be an awful grind-after that anything can happen.") There was renewed talk of finding a "white hope"; the man who'd discovered Carnera was said to have found a giant somewhere in China. Even to southerners, Louis appeared unstoppable, and that was mostly fine, for Louis had originally been one of them.

To black America, Louis crystallized racial progress, and promised more. The Courier Courier saw black champions in golf, tennis, and swimming. A saw black champions in golf, tennis, and swimming. A Defender Defender reader dared some major league baseball team to sign Satchel Paige. Louis had bridged the racial gap more dramatically than all individuals and organizations combined, wrote Sam Lacy of the reader dared some major league baseball team to sign Satchel Paige. Louis had bridged the racial gap more dramatically than all individuals and organizations combined, wrote Sam Lacy of the Washington Tribune. Washington Tribune. "In deepest Mississippi as well as in highest Harlem, colored and white people listened at their radio loudspeakers without gnashing their teeth or cutting each other's throats," noted "In deepest Mississippi as well as in highest Harlem, colored and white people listened at their radio loudspeakers without gnashing their teeth or cutting each other's throats," noted The Crisis. The Crisis. If blacks could only stand together as they stood behind Louis, one black commentator predicted, someone "could go down to Washington and say, 'Mr. President, the Scottsboro boys must be freed. Lynching must be stopped.' And both would be done in a month." Among South African blacks, the reaction was jubilant, if more understated. "All sportsmen, more especially the Coloured races of the world, are very proud of him," stated If blacks could only stand together as they stood behind Louis, one black commentator predicted, someone "could go down to Washington and say, 'Mr. President, the Scottsboro boys must be freed. Lynching must be stopped.' And both would be done in a month." Among South African blacks, the reaction was jubilant, if more understated. "All sportsmen, more especially the Coloured races of the world, are very proud of him," stated Bantu World, Bantu World, which put a picture of Louis on its front page. (Among Louis's South African fans was the young Nelson Mandela, four years the Bomber's junior, and a boxer himself.) The Japanese papers offered blow-by-blow descriptions of the fight. In Paris, Josephine Baker was thrilled over Louis's victory, which she'd predicted. which put a picture of Louis on its front page. (Among Louis's South African fans was the young Nelson Mandela, four years the Bomber's junior, and a boxer himself.) The Japanese papers offered blow-by-blow descriptions of the fight. In Paris, Josephine Baker was thrilled over Louis's victory, which she'd predicted.

But Louis could accelerate things only so much. Enforcement of the interstate ban on fight films enacted during Jack Johnson's day had been lax-but only, it turned out, when two white men shared the card: Virginia's state censorship board had already banned films of the second Louis-Ramage fight, and now films of the Louis-Baer fight were prohibited, too, on the grounds that they "might tend to arouse racial animosity." Brisbane, the Hearst columnist, thought Louis nothing special: send Jack Blackburn to Somaliland and give him "a promising young savage of 17 or 18," and you'd have yourself a champion. But for the next decade, he warned, only another black man had a prayer against Louis, and since fights between blacks were box-office poison, a separate "colored championship" might be necessary. Louis's managers would in fact not match him up with another black fighter, fearing that such a fight would not draw.

It was a voice from the outside-the music critic of the New York Post, New York Post, Samuel Chotzinoff-who best captured what Louis's victory did and didn't mean. Louis was "sweet recompense for a degrading past and a hopeless future," he wrote. "Booker T. Washington and Duke Ellington are all right in their way, but they do not represent Might." With Louis charging toward the championship, he went on, "it will be easier to bear the usual number of lynchings in the year. If you are riding by compulsion in a Jim Crow car it is something to know that Joe Louis is ready and willing to take all comers." Samuel Chotzinoff-who best captured what Louis's victory did and didn't mean. Louis was "sweet recompense for a degrading past and a hopeless future," he wrote. "Booker T. Washington and Duke Ellington are all right in their way, but they do not represent Might." With Louis charging toward the championship, he went on, "it will be easier to bear the usual number of lynchings in the year. If you are riding by compulsion in a Jim Crow car it is something to know that Joe Louis is ready and willing to take all comers."

Ten days before the Louis-Baer fight, the Nazis had held their annual party congress at Nuremberg, and Schmeling had met with some Nazi leaders there. Though he'd clearly had nothing to do with it, it was at that gathering that the Nazis had unveiled the infamous Nuremberg Laws, which defined, expansively, who was a Jew, then stripped of German citizenship all those who fit the criteria. Marriage and sexual relations between Germans and Jews were also barred. Within a few weeks, the same restrictions were placed on "Gypsies, Negroes, and their bastards." But wherever Louis and Baer would have fit in the new Germany, their fight was followed closely, for in their fortunes lay Schmeling's, too.

The Angriff Angriff conceded that Louis had revitalized boxing, creating great moneymaking opportunities for Schmeling. Baer, it noted, had said after the fight that Schmeling could give Louis a hard time, and maybe even beat him. The conceded that Louis had revitalized boxing, creating great moneymaking opportunities for Schmeling. Baer, it noted, had said after the fight that Schmeling could give Louis a hard time, and maybe even beat him. The 8 Uhr-Blatt 8 Uhr-Blatt doubted whether the Americans would offer Schmeling a shot; they preferred an American, even a black American, to "a purebred white European" as champion. The journal of the Reich Association of the German Press took umbrage that coverage of "Negroid-Jewish matters" had crowded out information about German athletics from the country's newspapers. "In America, once so full of racial pride, a Negro is fighting a Jew!" exclaimed the doubted whether the Americans would offer Schmeling a shot; they preferred an American, even a black American, to "a purebred white European" as champion. The journal of the Reich Association of the German Press took umbrage that coverage of "Negroid-Jewish matters" had crowded out information about German athletics from the country's newspapers. "In America, once so full of racial pride, a Negro is fighting a Jew!" exclaimed the Frankische Tageszeitung. Frankische Tageszeitung. "It's a disgrace if you can't come up with any other contenders for the title of world champion." "It's a disgrace if you can't come up with any other contenders for the title of world champion."

The night after the fight, Rudy Vallee interviewed Joe Louis's mother on the Fleischmanns Yeast Hour Fleischmanns Yeast Hour radio program, and asked whether she worried about her son in the ring. "Just a little," she replied. "I don't want him to get hurt. You know, Joe is very delicate." Hearing a black mother talk endearingly about her son was another of the ways in which Louis was touching mainstream America as no black man ever had. Walter White marveled at it all. "Isn't it superb the way the press and public have reacted to Joe's smashing victory?" he wrote Roxborough and Black. The task of bringing Louis along had been "loaded with T.N.T.," he went on; "only your skilled handling has achieved the impossible-promoting racial good will and respect for the Negro through a Negro's defeating white men." radio program, and asked whether she worried about her son in the ring. "Just a little," she replied. "I don't want him to get hurt. You know, Joe is very delicate." Hearing a black mother talk endearingly about her son was another of the ways in which Louis was touching mainstream America as no black man ever had. Walter White marveled at it all. "Isn't it superb the way the press and public have reacted to Joe's smashing victory?" he wrote Roxborough and Black. The task of bringing Louis along had been "loaded with T.N.T.," he went on; "only your skilled handling has achieved the impossible-promoting racial good will and respect for the Negro through a Negro's defeating white men."

As for Louis himself, he wanted nothing more than to get back to the Midwest to watch the Tigers and the Cubs in the World Series. He arrived in Detroit on Sunday, September 29. Word leaked out that he planned to attend services at the Calvary Baptist Church; two hours beforehand, 2,500 people awaited him inside, with another 5,000 outdoors. As if to warm up the crowd, the preacher proclaimed that Louis had done more than anyone since Lincoln to uplift the race and extolled him for neither smoking nor for letting any red-hot liquor pass down his throat. Finally Louis and his bride pulled up, in a black limousine with red wheels, then walked through the cheering throng to greet Louis's mother on the steps of the church. The preacher announced that Louis would speak on "The Ideal Son and a Devoted Mother." Louis stepped up to the pulpit, his hands trembling. Once again, he said nothing, fleeing to the comforts of the communal lunchroom instead. "The assembly whistled and stamped approval for just his smile," the Afro-American Afro-American reported. Before departing, Louis put $100 in the collection plate. Three members of his entourage each put in an additional $5. The total raised that day was $118.34. reported. Before departing, Louis put $100 in the collection plate. Three members of his entourage each put in an additional $5. The total raised that day was $118.34.

The next day, Louis took the train to Chicago, where he and Marva installed themselves in a third-floor apartment in the Rosenwald Houses on Forty-sixth Street and South Michigan, a common address for the black elite. An Afro-American Afro-American reporter found them listed as "Mr. and Mrs. James McDonald" and revealed that their "unusually attractive bedroom" had twin beds. Louis met with the mayor of Chicago, Edward Kelly, and officially ruled the city for ten minutes. A black pastor urged local congregations not to compete for Joe and Marva Louis too aggressively. "You busy businessmen, who crowd everything into your heart and life but Christ and His church, 'Go to the Brown Bomber' and be wise," another minister sermonized. reporter found them listed as "Mr. and Mrs. James McDonald" and revealed that their "unusually attractive bedroom" had twin beds. Louis met with the mayor of Chicago, Edward Kelly, and officially ruled the city for ten minutes. A black pastor urged local congregations not to compete for Joe and Marva Louis too aggressively. "You busy businessmen, who crowd everything into your heart and life but Christ and His church, 'Go to the Brown Bomber' and be wise," another minister sermonized.

Joe Louis busts-"in fighting pose"-were being sold for one dollar. Babies named for Louis abounded. Joe Louis Wise, born in Georgia during the Baer fight, was even white. "We only hope that he will be as clean a sportsman as the man for whom he was named," his proud parents wrote. Marva had only enhanced the interest. When their appearance at the annual Wilberforce-Tuskegee football game at Soldier Field in Chicago was announced at halftime, a thousand people "streaked pell-mell across the field," gathered below their second-row seats, and stared. The state of their marriage was always newsworthy, as were constant rumors that they were, as Walter Winchell liked to say, "blessed-eventing." Marva's every comment, activity, garment, purchase, and ailment was followed, analyzed, and assessed. Soon she, too, was getting lots of mail, from black women urging her to watch over her husband as conscientiously as his mother did, or asking her for discarded clothes or handkerchiefs or money, or requesting that she be godmother to their children. They admired her thrift and her extravagance alike. She could do no wrong.

"She's nice to look at, and what's better, she doesn't seem to mind working," the "Feminine Viewpoint" column in the Journal and Guide Journal and Guide observed. "In addition, she acts genuinely honest and her disposition seems to be O.K. She didn't mind riding home from the fight on a street car, but on the other hand, she made no bones about ordering twenty dresses at one clip, or picking expensive furniture with 18-carat gold knobs for the drawers. It just happened to be what she wanted and she got it without apologizing. And that's grand!" "Marva is sweet... that is the appropriate description of her soft beauty and her child-like simplicity," said the observed. "In addition, she acts genuinely honest and her disposition seems to be O.K. She didn't mind riding home from the fight on a street car, but on the other hand, she made no bones about ordering twenty dresses at one clip, or picking expensive furniture with 18-carat gold knobs for the drawers. It just happened to be what she wanted and she got it without apologizing. And that's grand!" "Marva is sweet... that is the appropriate description of her soft beauty and her child-like simplicity," said the Courier. Courier. Some readers choked on all the adulation. "Instead of beautiful headlines of interest commenting on some of the good deeds done by some of our leading educators," a Some readers choked on all the adulation. "Instead of beautiful headlines of interest commenting on some of the good deeds done by some of our leading educators," a Defender Defender reader griped, "the front page of the 'World's Greatest Weekly'" was "graced, adorned and magnified with the picture of a woman who hasn't done anything to help bring her people out of chaos, or help in any way to develop manhood or womanhood into a 'downtrodden' race." But most would have thought that curmudgeonly. reader griped, "the front page of the 'World's Greatest Weekly'" was "graced, adorned and magnified with the picture of a woman who hasn't done anything to help bring her people out of chaos, or help in any way to develop manhood or womanhood into a 'downtrodden' race." But most would have thought that curmudgeonly.

Black intellectuals began taking an interest in Louis. Eslanda Robeson, the wife of Paul, interviewed Louis for three hours for a book she hoped to write on prominent black Americans. "I found him charming, and very very simple and natural," she wrote to Carl Van Vechten, who was to take photographs for the book. "He only goes clam when you take him out of his field. He's as sweet as he can be, and crazy about the RACE. So, all you have to do to go great with him, is put him at his ease." Writing to the publisher Alfred A. Knopf, Van Vechten predicted in November 1935 that Louis, along with Paul Robeson, Ethel Waters, Bill Robinson, Josephine Baker, Gershwin's Porgy and Bess, Porgy and Bess, and the Italian invasion of Ethiopia would keep blacks very much in the news that winter. and the Italian invasion of Ethiopia would keep blacks very much in the news that winter.

White reporters began making pilgrimages to Louis's birthplace, and wading into his gene pool. They heard of his paternal grandfather, a well digger who was "just about the toughest darky we ever had in these parts." And of Louis's mother, who as a girl could pick more cotton than most men. And of Louis's father, "big and strong as an ox." (Not everyone was sure he'd really died, but neither the family nor the press bothered to check.) The stories traced Louis's ancestors back to a white slave owner named James Barrow and a Cherokee chief named Charles Hunkerfoot. Some of the Barrows "could easily pass for Indian braves and princesses," one visitor wrote, while others were "as fair as any Anglo-Saxon." "None of them is dark-skinned like the average southern Negro, though many are the typically freaky-looking zambos," one article explained. Their light skin was said to be a source of pride to the family and resentment from others. One of Louis's black forebears was supposedly a former slave who entertained Union soldiers by wrestling with a baboon. One writer steeped in Louis's bloodlines pronounced that his "coolness and cunning" were Indian, his "quick wit and shrewdness" white, and his "brute strength and endurance" black.

LOUIS, SCHMELING, AND B BRADDOCK were in play; the only question was who would fight whom when. "If Schmeling wants gold he can get it fighting Louis," Mike Jacobs said. "If he wants glory, he can fight Braddock. Anyway, Louis can lick both of them." In late September the Ford Motor Company offered to build a 100,000-seat stadium at the Michigan Fairgrounds for a Louis-Schmeling fight. But Schmeling appeared in no rush to fight anyone, perhaps because the money wasn't right or his contract with Joe Jacobs was due to expire in December. Louis, on the other hand, would not remain idle. Mike Jacobs arranged three quick indoor fights: against Paolino Uzcudun in early December, followed by the Cuban heavyweight Isidoro Gastanaga in Havana on New Year's Day and Charlie Retzlaff in Chicago two weeks later. None figured to be too taxing. Louis's frantic pace swelled black hearts; in five months, he'd have fought more than Dempsey and Tunney had in all their time as champions. were in play; the only question was who would fight whom when. "If Schmeling wants gold he can get it fighting Louis," Mike Jacobs said. "If he wants glory, he can fight Braddock. Anyway, Louis can lick both of them." In late September the Ford Motor Company offered to build a 100,000-seat stadium at the Michigan Fairgrounds for a Louis-Schmeling fight. But Schmeling appeared in no rush to fight anyone, perhaps because the money wasn't right or his contract with Joe Jacobs was due to expire in December. Louis, on the other hand, would not remain idle. Mike Jacobs arranged three quick indoor fights: against Paolino Uzcudun in early December, followed by the Cuban heavyweight Isidoro Gastanaga in Havana on New Year's Day and Charlie Retzlaff in Chicago two weeks later. None figured to be too taxing. Louis's frantic pace swelled black hearts; in five months, he'd have fought more than Dempsey and Tunney had in all their time as champions.

With characteristic diligence, Schmeling began studying Louis, but it was not easy; film of the Louis-Baer fight had been banned in Germany. The Nazis' favorite boxing writer, Arno Hellmis of the Volkischer Beobachter, Volkischer Beobachter, had to watch it in Basel, Switzerland, while had to watch it in Basel, Switzerland, while Box-Sport Box-Sport sent a man to Katowice, Poland. This was odd, because to the Nazi press at least, the proscribed footage proved Louis was overrated. sent a man to Katowice, Poland. This was odd, because to the Nazi press at least, the proscribed footage proved Louis was overrated. Box-Sport' Box-Sport' s correspondent described him as "an ambitious, determined fighter of mediocre technical ability, if also of undeniably large talent," who'd beaten "a boxing corpse," a "living punching bag." There was no way he was a world champion, especially against the Schmeling of the second Hamas fight. According to "--s." (presumably Hellmis) in the s correspondent described him as "an ambitious, determined fighter of mediocre technical ability, if also of undeniably large talent," who'd beaten "a boxing corpse," a "living punching bag." There was no way he was a world champion, especially against the Schmeling of the second Hamas fight. According to "--s." (presumably Hellmis) in the Angriff, Angriff, when the fight film ended, everyone in the theater looked puzzled; Louis was not the when the fight film ended, everyone in the theater looked puzzled; Louis was not the "uberboxer" "uberboxer" they'd expected. Though his punches were "lightning-fast" and "incredibly hard," he was a neophyte. "Max Schmeling, to the front!" he proclaimed. "You are just the right man to give this little Negro ... a couple of rounds of boxing lessons." they'd expected. Though his punches were "lightning-fast" and "incredibly hard," he was a neophyte. "Max Schmeling, to the front!" he proclaimed. "You are just the right man to give this little Negro ... a couple of rounds of boxing lessons."

Hellmis further described this overrated "loamface," this "masterpiece of bluffing," in the Volkischer Beobachter. Volkischer Beobachter. Louis possessed the black man's proverbial tough skull, he said, but he had beaten only has-beens; he was "custom-made for Schmeling." Perhaps, as Schmeling later insisted, the Fuhrer had misgivings about the German champion taking on a black man. But at this stage, at least, the two leading Nazi papers were actually urging such a fight. So was Louis possessed the black man's proverbial tough skull, he said, but he had beaten only has-beens; he was "custom-made for Schmeling." Perhaps, as Schmeling later insisted, the Fuhrer had misgivings about the German champion taking on a black man. But at this stage, at least, the two leading Nazi papers were actually urging such a fight. So was Box-Sport. Box-Sport. "This Negro is no champion; the film has taught that with cruel clarity," it stated. "Massa Louis from Detroit, the day you meet a true, class boxer for the first time in your young life-we're waiting for that day." "This Negro is no champion; the film has taught that with cruel clarity," it stated. "Massa Louis from Detroit, the day you meet a true, class boxer for the first time in your young life-we're waiting for that day."

Wherever he managed to watch the film, Schmeling was first struck by how nervous Baer had been and how poorly he had done. More important, he spotted a flaw in Louis's technique: he dropped his left arm after jabbing, leaving himself open for a right cross. Amazed that no one had spotted this before, wanting to make sure it was true, Schmeling stayed for a second showing. It was just as Benny Leonard liked to say: To win, you gotta make another man do what you want him to do. And Louis was already doing it on his own. He could beat this Louis, Schmeling felt; he just had to get to him fast, before anyone else saw what he'd seen. So in early December 1935, Schmeling again boarded the Bremen Bremen for New York. His objective was to sign to fight either Louis or Braddock, to watch Louis fight Uzcudun, and to resolve Joe Jacobs's status. The Nazis gave him an additional mission: to allay lingering American fears that the Berlin Olympics in the summer of 1936 would discriminate against blacks and Jews, and thereby to beat back the campaign in the States to boycott the Games. An assistant to the Reich sports minister asked Schmeling to "exert a positive influence on the right people," while the president of the German Olympic Committee gave him a letter to carry to his American counterpart, Avery Brundage. for New York. His objective was to sign to fight either Louis or Braddock, to watch Louis fight Uzcudun, and to resolve Joe Jacobs's status. The Nazis gave him an additional mission: to allay lingering American fears that the Berlin Olympics in the summer of 1936 would discriminate against blacks and Jews, and thereby to beat back the campaign in the States to boycott the Games. An assistant to the Reich sports minister asked Schmeling to "exert a positive influence on the right people," while the president of the German Olympic Committee gave him a letter to carry to his American counterpart, Avery Brundage.

It was Schmeling's first trip to New York in eighteen months. Professionally, his stock had soared from the dark days of 1934. Having won his last three fights, Box-Sport Box-Sport maintained, he had become America's "white hope," its "knight in shining armor, the bulwark against the black danger," and he was returning to the United States almost by popular demand. "They are not exactly altruistic, these people on the other side of the ocean, and they would hardly come back to Max Schmeling if they had another white boxer in their own country" on whom they could lean, it concluded. But for Germans in general the climate in New York had deteriorated. In late July, La Guardia had triggered a major diplomatic row when, responding to discrimination against American Jews in Germany, he refused to license a German-born masseur in New York. That La Guardia's mother was at least part Jewish only further stoked the resulting rage of the German press. The maintained, he had become America's "white hope," its "knight in shining armor, the bulwark against the black danger," and he was returning to the United States almost by popular demand. "They are not exactly altruistic, these people on the other side of the ocean, and they would hardly come back to Max Schmeling if they had another white boxer in their own country" on whom they could lean, it concluded. But for Germans in general the climate in New York had deteriorated. In late July, La Guardia had triggered a major diplomatic row when, responding to discrimination against American Jews in Germany, he refused to license a German-born masseur in New York. That La Guardia's mother was at least part Jewish only further stoked the resulting rage of the German press. The Angriff Angriff denounced "New York's Jewish Mayor" and his "wire pullers"-the German term, denounced "New York's Jewish Mayor" and his "wire pullers"-the German term, Drahtzieher, Drahtzieher, was one the Nazis invariably used to describe Jews-and called New York "world metropolis of Jewry." A few days later, with the was one the Nazis invariably used to describe Jews-and called New York "world metropolis of Jewry." A few days later, with the Bremen Bremen about to depart for Europe, some 1,500 protesters staged an anti-Nazi rally at the pier; some managed to take down the swastika from the ship's bow and hurl it into the Hudson River. The episodes sparked large pro-Nazi rallies in Yorkville, including two in one night, attracting six thousand people, many in Nazi-style uniforms. In September, a New York judge freed five of the six men arrested in the about to depart for Europe, some 1,500 protesters staged an anti-Nazi rally at the pier; some managed to take down the swastika from the ship's bow and hurl it into the Hudson River. The episodes sparked large pro-Nazi rallies in Yorkville, including two in one night, attracting six thousand people, many in Nazi-style uniforms. In September, a New York judge freed five of the six men arrested in the Bremen Bremen melee, equating their protest with the Boston Tea Party. Then, only two weeks before Schmeling arrived, ten thousand people marched against American participation in the Olympics. melee, equating their protest with the Boston Tea Party. Then, only two weeks before Schmeling arrived, ten thousand people marched against American participation in the Olympics.

Even if Schmeling deserved a title shot, Parker wrote, giving him one would insult the Garden's many Jewish patrons. The Daily News Daily News characterized Schmeling's welcome as "ten degrees colder than the weather"; with his excessive demands for his next fight and the political situation, it said, his popularity had waned almost to nothing. Meeting with the boxing press, Schmeling seemed surprised at, and even offended by, suggestions that he was dropping Joe Jacobs, who, he insisted, could manage him as long as he liked. Once more, he steered clear of all Jewish talk, but said it would be "a joke" if America opted out of the Olympics. "I'd like to fight this Bomber," he also said. "I think my style would bother him." His only fear, he added, was that someone might hit Louis with a lucky punch before he could get at him, thereby ruining a million-dollar gate. "A million and a half," Jacobs interjected. "The first time I get him alone," Gal-lico wrote of his friend Schmeling, "I must find out what Der Fuehrer would think, and say, if the No. 1 Nazi pugilist were subjected to public indignities at the hands of our famous Untermensch from the canebrakes of Alabama." characterized Schmeling's welcome as "ten degrees colder than the weather"; with his excessive demands for his next fight and the political situation, it said, his popularity had waned almost to nothing. Meeting with the boxing press, Schmeling seemed surprised at, and even offended by, suggestions that he was dropping Joe Jacobs, who, he insisted, could manage him as long as he liked. Once more, he steered clear of all Jewish talk, but said it would be "a joke" if America opted out of the Olympics. "I'd like to fight this Bomber," he also said. "I think my style would bother him." His only fear, he added, was that someone might hit Louis with a lucky punch before he could get at him, thereby ruining a million-dollar gate. "A million and a half," Jacobs interjected. "The first time I get him alone," Gal-lico wrote of his friend Schmeling, "I must find out what Der Fuehrer would think, and say, if the No. 1 Nazi pugilist were subjected to public indignities at the hands of our famous Untermensch from the canebrakes of Alabama."

Schmeling faithfully discharged his mission to the Olympic committee. According to Schmeling's memoirs, Brundage came up to his room in the Commodore Hotel-the same venue where the AAU was debating a resolution to boycott the Games-to receive the letter he carried from the German Olympic Committee, and asked for assurances that black and Jewish athletes would be treated fairly in Berlin, which Schmeling promptly made. It is unlikely that Brundage, a Hitler sympathizer and leader of the isolationist America First movement who was determined to see Americans participate in the Berlin Olympics, pressed Schmeling too hard on anything. In any case, because the committee rejected a boycott by only two and a half votes, Schmeling's input may well have been decisive. "In retrospect, it was incredibly naive of me to guarantee things that were completely beyond my control," Schmeling later wrote.

Louis faced four challenges in his fight with Uzcudun, which was set for December 13. The first, pronouncing his name, was something he never managed to do; he settled for "Upside Down." The second was reaching him with a punch. Baer, Levinsky, Carnera, Schmeling-all had fought Uzcudun, but none had knocked him down, largely because they could not penetrate his turtlelike defense. The third was beating him more quickly and decisively than Schmeling had in his three tries. The fourth lay in disproving the canard that marriage ruined a fighter.*

Schmeling came to Pompton Lakes on December 8, and sat near ringside as Louis sparred. Again, he was not impressed. "See how he stands in front, and open," he told Gallico. "A quick right hand and you haff got him.... He leaves so many openings.... See, now he looks even amateurish.... Yah, I sink I haff a good chance with him. I do not know if I can win, but I am not scared." Gallico was struck by Schmeling's calm. "I can report faithfully that he did not change color, blanch, or head for the exits," he wrote. To others, too, he denigrated Louis. JOE LOUIS LOOKS LIKE JOE PALOOKA IN (PUBLIC) OPINION OF SCHMELING JOE LOUIS LOOKS LIKE JOE PALOOKA IN (PUBLIC) OPINION OF SCHMELING, the Herald Tribune Herald Tribune proclaimed. Gallico, whose long relationship with Schmeling gave him freer rein to bring up sore subjects, asked him whether Hitler would allow him to fight Louis. Schmeling laughed; the Fuhrer, he said, had more serious things to think about. Politics had not infused sports to such an extent, he insisted, and besides, Germany needed hard currency. proclaimed. Gallico, whose long relationship with Schmeling gave him freer rein to bring up sore subjects, asked him whether Hitler would allow him to fight Louis. Schmeling laughed; the Fuhrer, he said, had more serious things to think about. Politics had not infused sports to such an extent, he insisted, and besides, Germany needed hard currency.

On December 9, Schmeling signed a new two-year contract with Joe Jacobs. During that time, he might get a crack at the crown, but it wouldn't happen right away; Braddock wasn't interested. A champion had to cash in when he could, Braddock explained, and Schmeling wasn't worth much, certainly not as much as Louis. He and Joe Gould had just come back from a western swing, Braddock said, and "all we heard was Louis." Besides, they remembered Schmeling's reaction when they'd tried to get him to fight Braddock. "Well, we're asking now, 'Who is Schmeling?'" Gould said. "What right has he to come over here and demand a championship bout?" The New York boxing commission felt the same way, decreeing that Schmeling could not fight Braddock without facing Louis first. So on December 10, Schmeling signed to fight Louis in June 1936. For his part, Louis agreed that once his three pending fights were behind him, he would not fight again until then. The next day, Mike Jacobs signed up Louis for another five years, locking him in through 1940. Louis had boasted periodically about retiring once he'd won the title and made his million, but Uncle Mike was not about to let that happen. "I've got him sewed up like a sweater," he said.

On the night of December 13, 1935, boxing's good old days, which Louis had already brought back to the summertime fights in New York's stadiums, returned indoors to Madison Square Garden. Limousines disgorged men in high hats and women in furs who joined the masses at the turnstiles. The crowd of 19,945 was the Garden's largest in six years. It was all a tribute to Louis's incandescence, for as the dearth of betting indicated, everyone knew who would win. So many celebrities were on hand that night that, as the Herald Tribune Herald Tribune put it, it was easier to list who put it, it was easier to list who wasn't wasn't there-like Hitler, Stalin, and the Dionne quintuplets. Schmeling got some boos when introduced, but they were mostly drowned out by cheers. When Louis's turn came, Harry Balogh left out his usual plea for tolerance; "through as gentlemanly conduct as ever shown by any fighter," one writer theorized, Louis had already "earned the respect and well wishes of every boxing customer in the country." Louis looked youthful, clean-cut, innocent; Uzcudun was unshaven, hairy-chested, ferocious. He crossed himself while awaiting the bell. God must have been looking the other way. there-like Hitler, Stalin, and the Dionne quintuplets. Schmeling got some boos when introduced, but they were mostly drowned out by cheers. When Louis's turn came, Harry Balogh left out his usual plea for tolerance; "through as gentlemanly conduct as ever shown by any fighter," one writer theorized, Louis had already "earned the respect and well wishes of every boxing customer in the country." Louis looked youthful, clean-cut, innocent; Uzcudun was unshaven, hairy-chested, ferocious. He crossed himself while awaiting the bell. God must have been looking the other way.

There was little action in the first three rounds, as the Basque covered up in his usual fashion and Louis probed for openings. Louis repeatedly jabbed with his left, affording Schmeling ample opportunity to study it. Louis had to get past his opponent's elbows but couldn't be careless: Why break a hand in a penny-ante bout when a bonanza beckoned? By the third round, some fans began to jeer. But it was just a waiting game; sooner or later Uzcudun would grow overconfident or impatient or sloppy, and open himself up, at least for an instant, and Louis would make his move. Everyone knew it was coming. The only question was when, and how devastating it would be. The tension was unbearable. Two minutes and thirty-two seconds into the fourth round, it happened. Louis saw his opening, and shot his right at Paolino's jaw.

It was one of those rare times when a fight was won on a single extraordinary punch-a punch, Gallico wrote, that "hurt everyone sitting within 15 rows of the ring." Damon Runyon called it "the swiftest and most explosive" he had ever seen; the referee, Arthur Donovan, called it the hardest. Louis himself said he was scared stiff when it landed-he had never hit anyone like that. Paolino, a tooth suddenly peeking through his hemorrhaging cheek, fell like someone who had been shot, landing on the canvas-for the first time in his career-with a resounding thud. In the Garden, there was a vast, dim roar, as though, as one eyewitness heard it, someone had dropped piles of lumber from a great height.

At the count of eight, Uzcudun pulled himself up, struck a fighting pose, and motioned for Louis to continue. Louis complied, throwing a few more punches before the fight was called. "I no queet!" Uzcudun screamed as he was dragged away. In his dressing room afterward, Louis was asked whether Uzcudun had dropped his hands before the fateful blow. "He dropped his chin," he replied. Louis was more interested in whether he'd hurt his opponent. "I don't want to kill anybody in this business," he later said. After half an hour under a cold shower, Uzcudun finally took a few steps on his own. Then he fell flat on his face.

Reporters who thought they had already expended all of their superlatives now reached for reinforcements. By any standard, the fight was a mismatch. But like many others, Richards Vidmer of the Herald Tribune Herald Tribune felt he had just witnessed something transcendent. felt he had just witnessed something transcendent.

No mere words are adequate to paint the perfection of Joe Louis's performance. When Caruso sang, when Pavlowa danced, when Kreisler plays his violin, there is no contest either.The skill that Louis possesses is something which never could be acquired. A fighter could be schooled for years and never obtain the rhythm of his reflexes, the speed of his hands or the timing of his blows. It is something natural, and I don't believe a white man ever would be born with such physical syncopation, for there is something of the jungle in the way Louis fights; something smooth and silent and swift; something as decisive as death.... Joe Louis stands alone in the heavyweight world.... Yet the farther he goes, the cleaner he sweeps the field, the greater will be the crowds that clamor to see him fight. Those who have heard Paderewski play only want to hear him again; those who have seen the masterpieces of Rodin never quite quench their thirst for the beauty of his work; those who have read Shakespeare constantly reread his words and phrases. And Joe Louis is a master in his own line who has brought a real meaning to the science of boxing. They will want to see him fight again and again.This, I agree, is high praise and dangerous prediction, but it is my honest reaction and my sincere belief after the greatest performance of pugilism I ever viewed.

One dissenter was James J. Braddock. Louis, he said to himself, was a sucker for a right hand; every time he jabbed he leaned way over and stuck his kisser out there, just begging to be socked. Schmeling felt the same way. He had studied Louis intently, just as he had set out to do. And the newspapermen studied Schmeling studying Louis. An Associated Press photographer trained his camera on Schmeling, recording his reactions over a series of four pictures: "Grins at Start"; "Let's see what happens"; "Say, that guy can hit"; "M-mm-He's gonna be tough." One reporter thought he saw Schmeling suck in his breath and jerk when Louis's fateful punch hit home. But whatever people were reading into his reactions, Schmeling himself was not just unperturbed, but pleased.

Later, the myth developed that in a blinding epiphany that night, Schmeling had cracked Louis's code. "I zee zomezings," he supposedly said. In fact, both in watching the Baer fight on film and in studying Louis at Pompton Lakes, he had seen those same somethings before. Schmeling, Machon, and Joe Jacobs made their way out of the Garden, pushed through the crowd along Eighth Avenue to Forty-ninth Street, then crossed Broadway heading east. No one said anything until Schmeling suddenly blurted out, "I vill tell you something, Choe. I vill knock him oud." Then, Jacobs later related, Schmeling drew both of them into the darkened front of a tailor's shop and, as the fight crowd hurried by obliviously, showed them the moves he would use to do it. Schmeling explained as much to Gallico, who remained skeptical. "If Schmeling is as smart as I think he is, he will go back to Germany, write a polite note to Mr. Mike Jacobs advising him that he has changed his mind and that he will not fight Mr. Louis," he wrote. Uzcudun, who had now fought them both, thought Louis would kill the German. Even the perpetually pessimistic Al Monroe of the Defender Defender now predicted that Louis would be champion within a year. now predicted that Louis would be champion within a year.

Jack Dempsey agreed, announcing a global search for a new "white hope." He said he was willing to spend $100,000 to find him, bring him to New York, and teach him how to fight. The French newspaper Paris Soir Paris Soir announced plans for a European search, too. announced plans for a European search, too. Box-Sport Box-Sport saluted Dempsey's campaign, calling it the "best indication that the race problem in the United States is still alive." But it quite naturally irritated the black press, which had never forgiven Dempsey for dodging black boxers, along with the U.S. Army, during the Great War. "When did this 'palooka' appoint himself the defender of boxing, and incidentally, when did the United States come to mean so much to Dempsey, who was nowhere to be found when Americans fought in France in 1918?" the saluted Dempsey's campaign, calling it the "best indication that the race problem in the United States is still alive." But it quite naturally irritated the black press, which had never forgiven Dempsey for dodging black boxers, along with the U.S. Army, during the Great War. "When did this 'palooka' appoint himself the defender of boxing, and incidentally, when did the United States come to mean so much to Dempsey, who was nowhere to be found when Americans fought in France in 1918?" the Courier Courier asked. But Dempsey saw a need; Braddock had no chance against Louis, he believed, and Schmeling even less. asked. But Dempsey saw a need; Braddock had no chance against Louis, he believed, and Schmeling even less.