The day the Brown Bomber came to town
By almost every measure, on the scorecards of those qualified to judge, Joseph Louis Barrow rates as one of the greatest boxers to ever step into a ring. He won the world heavyweight title in 1937 and kept it for a record 11 years, eight months and seven days. During that reign he successfully defended his crown 25 times, another record. He became the first boxer to defeat six heavyweight champions: Primo Carnera, Max Baer, Jack Sharkey, Jimmy Braddock, Max Schmeling and Jersey Joe Walcott.
When his full given names wouldn't fit in the space allotted on the application for a professional boxing licence, Joseph Louis Barrow shortened his name to Joe Louis. Born on May 13, 1914, he was 12 years old when his sharecropping family moved from near LaFayette, Ala., to the Black Bottom neighbourhood in Detroit. It was there that Joe Louis learned to box, at the Brewster Recreation Center. His first recorded fight was a disaster, but he persevered and won 50 of 54 bouts as an amateur. Included in that run were 43 knockouts, Golden Gloves titles and the light heavyweight championship at the United States National Amateur Athletic Union tournament in St. Louis in April 1934.
At age 20 he left his assembly-line job at the Ford Motor Company’s River Rouge plant and, on July 4, 1934, in the Bacon’s Arena in Chicago, he knocked out Jack Kraken in the first round of his debut as a pro. He racked up 24 straight wins before Max Schmelling knocked him out on June 19, 1936, in New York’s Yankee Stadium. By then, Joe Louis, was known as the Brown Bomber. In 1935 he was named male athlete of the year in the U.S. by the Associated Press. At the height of his career he voluntarily joined the United States army and for five years boxed almost 100 exhibitions in front of more than two million members of the military. From those exhibitions and two of his title defences, he donated his entire winnings to relief funds in aid of the American army and navy.
In December 1947 and again in June 1948, Louis fought Walcott. He won the first of those fights with a split decision in Madison Square Garden in New York City, and the second with an 11-round knockout in Yankee Stadium. By then he was 34 years old and had a pro record of 58-1. As months passed, his retirement from the ring seemed probable, but there was no confirmation from his camp until March 1, 1949.
In addition to setting new high-water marks in the boxing world and serving his country, the Brown Bomber also broke racial barriers and had become a national hero. But all of that counted for little when the U.S. Internal Revenue Service came knocking and ordered him to pay back-taxes on the purses he had donated. With interest and penalties, the government was looking for more than half a million dollars.
Near the end of March in 1950, Louis read from a prepared statement at a press conference in Waco, Tex. “After due consideration by Marshall Miles, my manager, Manny Seamon (trainer) and myself,” he said, “I will not return to the ring and try to regain the heavyweight title. Instead, I will make an exhibition tour of South America, and then join the Dailey Brothers Circus for a tour of Canada, starting on May 24. I would have to be in the best shape to fight Ezzard Charles, and that would mean three months real hard work – I don’t want to do it.”
What he preferred was an agreement with the Dailey Brothers outfit that guaranteed him $1,000 for each of 94 working days, plus all expenses paid, for nothing more than “punching a bag, skipping and giving short talks.” That was the deal that brought the Brown Bomber to Stratford, Ontario.
Early on Friday, May 26, 1950, the Dailey Bros. circus train steamed into Stratford to present two shows (that afternoon and evening) in a “big top” on the large mostly vacant lot at what was deemed the “city limits on Downie Street.” Specifically, that property was immediately south of Simcoe Street, and northeast of the Downie Street intersection with what is now a well-developed Lorne Avenue. According to the Vernon’s 1950 city directory, that lot was home to what was listed as the “community barns.” A year later, and for the next decade, that entry was replaced by the “Stratford sales and exchange.” As of 1963, it became the “Stratford Livestock Exchange” – more commonly called “the stockyards.”
Development of the property has since come to include a church, residential sectors, commercial outlets, a fraternal hall, a restaurant and two streets named Morgan and Edison. But in 1950, the lone residential address on Lorne Avenue was No. 54, which belonged to Edward and Beatrice Bellamy. He was a fireman at the Whyte Packing Co. As for the east side of Downie Street, the only two properties listed south of Simcoe Street were 705 and 725. Ralph and Florence Le Souder and family lived at the first of those addresses; Andrew J. and Margaret Campbell were at 725.
On May 25, 1950, the Stratford Beacon-Herald carried a large two-column display ad that proclaimed the Dailey “5-ring railroad colossus” to be “the show with the ‘new look’ and that fine old-circus feeling.” This show, it said, would be an “inconceivably impressive array of amazing acts,” which included “the greatest exhibition of circus equine prowess in the world.” As well, the lineup featured “the only polar bear act in America,” an “aerial ballet,” an “elephant ballet,” a “host of clowns,” a “wrestling bear,” and Hugo Zacchini, “the human cannonball and the most sensational death-defying feat in circus history.”
At the bottom of the ad, in larger type, there was special mention of the day’s celebrated guest: “Joe Louis in person, heavyweight champion of the world. Known to millions as the Brown Bomber, presents an exhibition of his training camp program. Will he come back?” Reserved seating for the shows, at 3 p.m. and 8 p.m., were on sale at the Kalbfleisch IDA Drugstore, 75 Ontario St.
All of this was exciting stuff for a rural southwestern Ontario city with a population of about 18,000. Among the excited was Dale Le Souder, for whom the circus and the Brown Bomber were in town on the eve of his 11th birthday. “We lived next door to it (the circus grounds), just a stone’s throw away,” he recalls. “They had a main tent. They had horses and elephants, and they had a parade into the big top. Three or more of us kids walked the ponies around the ring. They let us in for free if we did some work. We went to the afternoon show. I remember seeing Joe Louis there, but I don't remember him doing anything (special). He wasn't doing any boxing then, but he was certainly well known."
Another of the young helpers on site that day was Peter Whittemore. “I helped Joe erect the big tent by holding the stakes while he pounded them in,” says Whittemore. “At that time I lived at 710 Downie St. across from my best friend, Dale LeSouder. I got a rap on my knuckles from my dad (Leslie Whittemore) for skipping school that day.”
“I remember him (Louis) being here,” says John Tsaltas, whose family lived on Railway Avenue. “I would have been too young to go (to the circus), but my brothers (Harry and Nick) were there, probably with our dad (Gus).”
As reported in the Beacon-Herald, on May 27, 1950. “From early morning, when the show reached Stratford, talk throughout the city, particularly among the younger generation, was all about the circus. For most of the day the youngsters and even their parents jostled each other around the circus lot to get a touch of the glamour that always attaches to the circus. Just before the evening show the crowds flocked to the grounds. Cars lined the street along the route and packed into parking lots as their owners probed the mysteries of the circus sideshows.”
The Beacon-Herald headline for that report was “Big Top Crowded for Evening Show of Dailey Brothers 5-Ring Circus,” which suggests the afternoon presentation did not draw as well. In any event, “From the moment that Joe Louis, former heavyweight boxing champion, led the parade of stars into the big top on his prancing bay and waved his 10-gallon hat at the applauding crowd, the showmanship pressure was on, and excitement was high . . . When it was all over there were many tots with tired eyes who had been permitted to stay up late to see the show. And the roustabouts of Dailey Brothers were probably more than a little tired, too; by this time most of the small city of canvas had been torn down and loaded onto the 25 double-length railway cars owned by the show. But there was still a lot of work to be done before the cavalcade could be on its way again. It left the city after midnight, headed for Owen Sound, where it was scheduled for presentation this afternoon and tonight.”
The question asked in the Beacon-Herald ad, “Will he come back?” was answered four months after the Brown Bomber’s day in Stratford. With the IRS still chasing him, Louis returned to boxing. His management team negotiated a deal with the government; Louis would come out of retirement, with all his net boxing proceeds going to the IRS. The first of those proceeds came from a Sept. 27, 1950, date with Ezzard Charles in Yankee Stadium. Charles won with a unanimous decision.
Through the next 13 months, Louis followed with eight wins over lesser-known fighters. Then, at age 37, with a won-lost pro record of 66-2, he tried to regain the heavyweight crown by facing Rocky Marciano. They fought in Madison Square Garden on Oct. 26, 1951. There was to be no fairy-tale ending for the Louis comeback. Badly overpowered by Marciano, the Brown Bomber lost on an eighth-round technical knockout.What he didn’t lose was the doggedness of the IRS and its demand for tax money. So he again returned to the ring but as a pro wrestler. He went undefeated in 20 matches before a heart problem forced the end of what was described as a “controversial” career.
There were other side gigs for Louis. In September 1947, his Punchers played the London All-Stars of the Michigan-Ontario fastball league in an exhibition game at Labatt Park in London. Louis didn’t take to the field, but his presence as team owner drew 8,000 fans to the storied ball yard, where his ace hurlers held their hosts hitless and went home with a 4-0 win. Floyd Bates decided the outcome with a home run. But the game’s biggest hit was Joe Louis.
In 1936, Louis was introduced to golf, another sport at which he excelled. In 1952, he was invited to play as an amateur in the San Diego Open on a sponsor’s exemption. However, the Professional Golfers' Association of America was reluctant to allow him to enter the event because of its bylaw that granted PGA membership only to white Americans. But because it was Joe Louis, the PGA chose to rethink the bylaw, though the “Caucasian only” clause in the PGA of America's constitution was not formally amended until November 1961.
Soon after the 1952 San Diego Open, Louis was invited to play in the Tucson Open. By carding a 141-stroke total over the first two rounds, he became the only champion athlete from another sport to make the cut in a PGA event. In Riverdale, Ill., there is a golf course called The Champ, named in honour of the Brown Bomber.
Louis continued to reduce his tax debt until 1961, when his wife, a lawyer, struck a deal with the U.S. government. From then on, he was required to pay taxes only on current earnings. In settling his financial affairs, Louis also reimbursed the city of Detroit for any welfare money it may have directed to his family during their time in Black Bottom. The IRS injustice he endured was later rectified by an Act of Congress, which forgave him all outstanding liabilities.
His career in the ring and his battle with Uncle Sam took a toll, his physical and mental problems exacerbated by alcohol and cocaine. Increasingly paranoid, in 1970 Louis spent three months in a psychiatric hospital. After leaving that facility, he became a celebrity greeter at Caesars Palace in Las Vegas, the city in which he and Frank Sinatra became good friends. Hollywood connections led to Louis appearing in six full-length films and two short films. He had a starring role in the 1938 race film Spirit of Youth, in which he played a boxer with whom he shared many similarities.
In his decade at Caesars, Louis greeted tourists, played golf with VIPs and collected debts for the casino. This was not an unfamiliar calling for former champ. About 15 years earlier, he had been a minor shareholder (approximately two per cent) in the historic but star-crossed Moulin Rouge hotel and casino in West Las Vegas. He was the official host of that operation, the first racially integrated hotel casino in the United States.
The final public appearance for the Brown Bomber was at Caesars on April 11, 1981. He was introduced prior to the Larry Holmes-Trevor Berbick heavyweight championship fight. A few hours later, on April 12, 1981, Louis suffered a massive heart attack and died in Desert Springs Hospital near Las Vegas.
His funeral, in a boxing arena behind Caesars Palace, was attended by thousands of people, including celebrities such as Sinatra, Sammy Davis Jr., and Muhammad Ali. Cost of his funeral was covered in part by Max Schmeling, the German boxer who had lost (June 1936) and won (June 1938) in his two fights with Louis. After his ring career, Schmeling became a wealthy Coca-Cola executive. By then he had also become a close friend of Louis and was a pallbearer at his funeral.
U.S. President Ronald Reagan waived the eligibility rules for Arlington National Cemetery and Louis was buried there with full military honors on April 21, 1981. During his army service Louis was known for his kind and generous nature.
Near the betting windows at the race and sports windows at Caesars, there is a larger-than-life marble statue of Louis. On Dec. 12, 1979, the city of Detroit opened its Joe Louis Arena on the bank of the Detroit River. It was a US$57 million (US$258 million in 2024 dollars) 20,000-seat home for the National Hockey League’s Detroit Red Wings, who moved there from Olympia Stadium. Close by was the Joe Louis Arena station on the city’s people mover. The Joe was closed in July 2017 and demolished in 2019-2020.
Since 1986, at the intersection of Jefferson and Woodward avenues in Detroit, near Hart Plaza, there has been the Monument to Joe Louis. Commissioned by Sports Illustrated, it is a 7.3-metre arm with a fisted hand, suspended by a 7.3-metre-high pyramidal framework. It is the creation of Mexican-American sculptor Robert Graham and bronze artist Rolf Kriken. Their work was designed to symbolize “a correlation between a boxer’s closed fist and the fight against racial injustice.”
One would be hard-pressed to find a Joe Louis story that mentions Stratford, Ontario. But for those who took in the Dailey Brothers circus at the city limits on Downie Street, on that May day in 1950, he was the story.