Hey, Joe

Beloved boxing champ Joe Frazier died and was laid to rest last week. Smokin’ Joe Frazier. Gone.

And memories of my Dad come roaring back, just as the season of his passing arrives as well.

Smokin’ Joe was such a big character when I was young. His ongoing rivalry with Muhammed Ali. His colorful persona. His need to be recognized when Ali claimed to be The Greatest every time you turned around. He was a champion fighter. He deserved to be recognized. My dad loved him. Maybe because he was always fighting. Not just in the ring. But in life. Always the underdog. He was witty, too. Quick with a comeback. That would have meant something to my Dad.

And now Joe is gone. And Ali lives on, though he doesn’t seem to have the life you’d hope a world renown champion athlete would have. Age and illness are taking exacting their revenge. And again, Ali wins the fight.

When I was young my Dad worked for a major city newspaper. He was in ad sales and loved loved loved what he did for a living, and who he worked for. He was there for over 30 years before newspapers lost their foothold on news delivery and his company closed. I remember the announcement vividly. Watched it on the news. Watched my Dad break down and cry. My dad kept a transcript of the meeting to tell the employees. I found it in his “Important Papers” when he died. Along with his Will, his Divorce Decree, and his discharge papers from the Navy.

The paper had been a very family oriented company. Hell, my Mom and Dad met there. I most vividly remember Christmases at the paper. A group of people would make a giant paper mache holiday display of some kind, maybe a Nativity scene (before anything of a religious orientation was banned from the work place) out of, what else? Newspaper. And it would be gloriously spray painted and standing in the 3 story lobby of the building near the escalators that ran along the wall that displayed a Thomas Jefferson quote scrawled along the top: “Were it left to me to decide whether we should have a government without newspapers, or newspapers without a government, I should not hesitate a moment to prefer the latter.”

We’d ride up past the quote and families would be gathered everywhere. There would be caroling and food and sweets and I remember it being such a joyful time and place.

At my Dad’s office no less. (My office prohibits fun, thank you.)

But what I loved most was the quarterly magazine produced for the employees. It was beautifully assembled with pictures and a witty style. It covered everything. Who was getting promoted. Who had gotten engaged. Wedding news. Interesting stories about what people were doing in their communities. Highlights about the softball team and the golf outing and all manner of fun. People could even submit pictures themselves. I remember Charlotte and Jack and I were in there once. In our family portrait. Charlotte had loved the way her bouffant had turned out.

And on one cover, most notably, there was Joe Frazier. At the height of his career he had visited the paper. For what reason, who is to say? But he had gone around and met a lot of the staff and mixed it up in the newsroom and the press room and the ad department. And there had been lots of photos taken. Joe was a ham. He was bobbing and weaving and fake boxing with the guys all day.

And on the cover of the next mag, there he was. And just who was at the center of the crowd that had formed? Boxing with Smokin’ Joe?

My Dad. And now they are both gone. I wonder if Dad is waiting for him in Heaven. He probably is. With some snappy comment and a left jab at the ready, for sure.