"Bummy Davis vs. Murder, Inc." by Ron Ross (2003)

If any book is a gift in and of itself, and a good book a treasure; then it follows that a good book given as a gift is an even greater treasure. And, so it is with this book; which I received as a Chanukah gift from Glen Slater, a friend who lives in my old neighborhood off Kings Highway in Brooklyn. He also happens to be related to Albert “Bummy” Davis, the subject of this colorful biography.

Albert Davidoff was born in Brownsville in 1920. He arrived at the dawn of Prohibition, and he would live and die at odds with the world of that misguided public policy which spawned the era of Organized Crime, which still stands as a testament to the wisdom of social engineering by the government.

But this story is more than just about politics and gangsters. It is the story of a soulful man living in a world devoid of a soul of its own, and how he came to deal with the hand that life had dealt him. In his case that hand took the form of a devastating left hook.

Author Ron Ross brings life to the character of the man who bore the name “Bummy”. Born as Albert Davidoff to a Jewish family in the East New York section of Brooklyn known as Brownsville, he was a typical kid for the times in which he lived. Surrounded by colorful characters and friends he grows up in a world where making a living was of paramount importance. His father worked at running his candy store, selling newspapers and sodas for 12 hours a day. Each member of the family had their own tasks to perform which brought in the money to feed them all.

Al was a bit different than his brothers; especially Willie, who hung out with the faster crowd and sported pin stripe suits. He also had a reputation for strong arming the local pushcart peddlers and store owners for protection money. In a time and place inhabited by the likes of Lucky Luciano and Abe Reles, this was actually considered a living.

As Al grows up he realizes that he has a talent for fighting and begins to fight in the amateur bouts at the AAU. But he soon comes to realize that in Brownsville everything is up for grabs. Even some of the fights are “fixed” so that the “smart” bettors; the ones who are connected; will always win the big money. Fighters could be marginalized so that they would never fulfill their full potential, while making big money for the “handlers.”

“Bummy’s” big break came in 1939 when he defeated former lightweight champion Tony Canzoneri in 3 rounds. He was finally on his way to the big time. By the close of 1939 he would go on to defeat Tippy Larkin, dispatching him with a mighty left hook in the fifth round. That left hook was his trademark, and enabled him to amass the impressive record of 66 wins and 47 knockouts, with only 10 losses and 4 draws. He is still considered one of the greatest punchers of all time for his weight and class.

His career was marred by his utter distaste for the corruption that went along with the sport of boxing, as well as his own quick temper. His penchant for anger caused him to lose a bout with Lightweight Champion Lou Ambers in 1940. Also that year, he fought Fritzie Zivic, who knocked “Bummy” down in the first round, and continued to harass him in the 2nd round, gouging his eye with a thumb. 

Al went slightly ballistic in response, peppering his opponent with no fewer than 10 “foul” blows, causing him to be disqualified in New York for life. (This suspension was later lifted.)

Along with a terrific account of Al Davis’ life and the fight game, Mr. Ross has also given us a history of “Murder, Inc.”-  the place where the mob went when they needed to have someone “rubbed out.” Abe Reles and the Half Moon Hotel were like local legends to me growing up just about 1 mile or so from Coney Island. The savagery with which they went about their work dwarfs even some of today’s more lurid crimes.

This book reads like a film noir classic; and also boasts a complete record of Al Davidoff’s fights as well as a pretty cool Yiddish glossary to help those who may not be from Brooklyn navigate the dialougue more easily.

In the end Al “Bummy” Davis goes down most unexpectedly. While I was expecting the hail of bullets which ended his life, I expected them to come from a different source. If it’s of any consolation, I think Al Davis was equally surprised.

"How the Other Half Lives" by Jacob A. Riis (1901)

Through his remarkable series of photographs, documenting life in the tenements of old New York at the turn of the 19^th Century, Jacob A. Riis has become an icon of compassionate liberalism to many folks. That’s because they haven’t read his book. This landmark classic of sociology is often spoken of as if it were a plea for compassion and sympathy for the poor. If that is your opinion of this highly vaunted work, then you have probably not read it either.

The book is somewhat akin to D.W. Griffith’s epic motion picture “Birth of a Nation” in that it stereotypes every minority then in existence in New York City. Jews are clever and suspicious; Chinese are opium pushers and white slave traders; the Italians are happy people except when pushed too far and their passionate nature gets the better of them; while the Irish are just plain filthy and would rather drink than work. And all are criminals of one sort or another.

While quoting from the crime statistics available at the time he notes that the majority of the criminals come from the slums. Crime itself is the result of unclean living and poor habits, as well as the choice of lifestyles made by the individual. When the well to do come down to the slums for entertainment, they are sometimes unwittingly dragged into these lifestyles themselves; making them victims of the poor.

As a kid I used to go to Riis Park in the borough of Queens. Riis Park is the beach which sits next door to the Breezy Point Section, which gained widespread fame this past year in the wake of Hurricane Sandy. Riis Park was the brainchild of Robert Moses, who oversaw the building of most of the bridges and tunnels, as well as countless parks throughout the 5 boroughs. He named Riis Park for the author of this book, who is often considered to be a champion of the poor, and presumably would have wanted poor people to have a sunny, open place to go for fresh air. But, I wonder if Mr. Moses ever read this book.

Perhaps I am being too harsh upon the author; after all, those were different times. And he did expose the horrid conditions of the city’s slum dwellings through his photographs. It was just somewhat of a shock to read the author’s views on the predicament of the people he was trying to help.

For better, or worse, we are all products of the environment in which we live. For all the flaws in the way he has expressed himself in this book, he did lead a crusade that helped, in some way, to draw attention to the plight of the poor. Though most of the social ills which he decries in this narrative still exist today, he does deserve credit for being among the first of the moral crusaders who attempted to do something about the conditions he saw to be unfit.

And, then there are also those remarkable photographs he took, leaving us a window into our past, which might not always be so pretty, but represent who we once were. May it be that we never go that far backwards again.

"Heaven's Gate" with Kris Kristofferson and Isabelle Huppert (1980)

I remember watching this movie in the theater when it was first released. The film was panned at the time as being too long. And; at 216 minutes; it is lengthier than most movies of that time; or anytime. And this is the director’s cut; which boasts some added footage of the barren, and cold, area where this story took place. So, bring a jacket.

I believe that the director’s intention was to portray the stark and lonely aspect of what is was like to live on the prairie, where there was not much to do. Time would naturally have dragged itself on in an interminable way. To that extent, the director has captured the feel of the times in an excellent fashion.

The movies premise is a good one, and the choice of actors is really diverse; with screen legends such as Joseph Cotten playing alongside of such relative newcomers like Sam Waterson and John Hurt. This movie has a lot to offer if you are willing to devote the time to watching it. And Kris Kristofferson is at his best as the Harvard educated U.S. Marshall who attempts to take on the cattle barons in this epic based upon the real life Johnson County War of 1892. It’s a fascinating piece of our history. You might want to Google it sometime.

Briefly, the whole problem was that there was an influx of new settlers who had been lured to the area of present day Wyoming by cheap government sponsored land. These would be settlers were mainly from Eastern Europe and spoke little English. The land they had bought was also being used by the cattle barons to graze their herds for free. When the settlers moved in, and the crops didn’t grow, these people were hungry. In order to survive they began to steal cattle. In order to protect their own interests, the Cattlemen’s Association offered a $5 per day stipend, plus a $50 bounty for each of the 125 men on the “list” of those to be executed. No trial, no law; just a list of individuals to be killed.

Great acting by all; including a very charming Isabelle Huppert, who plays Ella, a local prostitute who is lover to both Marshall Kris Kristofferson, and the cattle baron played by Christopher Walken; make this film watchable, even if you are watching the clock during some of the second half.

A good film; reminiscent in many ways of “Lawrence of Arabia”, another film which was re-released in a director’s cut. That film took place in the desert rather than the cold winter of Wyoming. For that film, take an extra bottle of water. 

"Moscow On the Hudson" with Robin Williams (1984)

It’s hard to believe that this film is almost 30 years old already. And it’s not dated at all. The absence of cell phones and laptops is hardly noticeable in this carefully directed comedy/drama by Paul Mazursky; in which Robin Williams plays a Russian saxophone player, Vladimir Ivanoff, on tour with the Moscow Circus, and his sudden decision to defect.

The film is extraordinary in that it shows the lines in Moscow for consumer goods in the last days of the Socialist Soviet Republic. When walking down the street and seeing a line, you simply joined it; no matter if was a line for toilet paper, or food; both were in short demand. So, when Vladimir is slated to go to New York as part of a cultural exchange, he has no basis with which to compare the abundance of the west with his homeland in Russia.

Ironically, Vladimir is not even interested in defecting, as is a friend of his who is a fellow circus performer. The choice to make this character a “sad clown” was brilliant, and his face, as he leaves for the airport without having defected, is hard to forget. Vladimir; on the other hand; is quite believable as a jazz enthused musician whose soul cannot possibly endure a return to Moscow.

The real “meat” of this movie occurs when the circus troupe stops by Bloomingdale’s; a symbol of western decadence; for a shopping trip on their way to the airport on the way home to Russia, Vladimir is seized by all that he has seen and heard in New York City. After he has been to Harlem, and played in a jazz club, how could he ever go home again? The artistic freedom is the magnet which lures him to his most bold and daring act; he defects in Bloomingdale’s, leaving his Russian KGB handlers baffled as to what; if anything; they can do about it. And as Vladimir watches his friends departing for the airport, he is standing outside of Bloomingdale’s, screaming “Freedom!” in English and Russian to his friends.

This film came out when I was still working aboard ships, and so I missed it at the time it was released. For one reason or another, I have never seen it until now. And what a pleasure to find that it still rings true. With all of our differences; and in spite of our seeming disengagement from one another; both politically and socially; we are; as shown in the final moments of the film; a nation of immigrants. And I find a strange sort of comfort in that.

"The Fish That Ate the Whale" by Rich Cohen (2012)

I had never heard of Samuel Zemurray until I picked up this book. As usual, I chose the book by its cover; which is something I was told never to do, and have done since. I’m glad I did. Samuel Zemurray was arguably the banana “King”. From his first encounter with the fruit sometime around 1893 in Selma, Alabama. He was smitten with everything about the fruit; from its shape, color and size; to what was it worth? Samuel, like most immigrants from Eastern Europe at the time, looked at everything in a different light than others. This was, after all, the land of opportunity, and who knew what that first banana held in store for him? As it turned out, it was quite a lot.

Sam Zemurray is the man who popularized the banana, taking it from the small marketplaces of the southern ports of America, all the way into every grocery store in the nation. By the time Mr. Zemurray was through, bananas were celebrated in song, and had become a staple of American cuisine. In this unusual biography of both the man and the banana, author Rich Cohen has given us both an education in the history of the banana in America, as well as a chronicle of the United Fruit Company. This is a story of American capitalism; in a business started by an immigrant; and the effects his success had on those less fortunate than he in the countries from which he derived his that good fortune. In a way, it is the tale of “Raggedy Dick the Shoeshine Boy”; while in another sense it recalls “The Grapes of Wrath.”

From his most humble beginning as a fruit peddler, with one cart of bananas, Mr. Zemurray rose to become a tycoon. Along the way he wrestled with Unions, politicians, foreign governments, and even the CIA, as he built an empire which proved capable of starting wars and influencing politics.

Just as my great grandfather Max Henkin, who hailed from Russia; and is shown here next to a palm tree; Zemurray was fascinated with this healthy and exotic fruit. In his own turn, the author does everything within his power to convey this fascination to the reader.

Tracing Mr. Zemurray’s history and rise to fortune , the author has taken a life which reads like a fairy tale, and strips away a bit of the veneer, getting at the heart of what drove this man who became the “Banana King”. He also manages to let us understand how he stayed at the top of his industry for 40 years.

Also of interest is the bit of education about the industry which the author manages to squeeze into the narrative. He ably explains the difference between a “stem”, which holds one hundred “bunches” of 9 “hands”; which in turn comprise 15 “fingers”, or bananas each.  This called forth the image of stevedores in tropical ports unloading the bananas by hand; shouldering several hundred pounds at a time; with the danger of scorpions and spiders lurking within each bunch unloaded.

This book covers everything from bananas to foreign coups in “banana republics, as well as corporate and labor disputes. This is a real life tale worthy of a good screenplay; and your time will not be misspent in reading Rich Cohen’s entertaining; and educational; biography of a highly unusual individual.