Pencils for the Blind

 Another sweet memory from Los Angeles's Golden Age of boxing.

                                              

By kiki

Back in the 1950s and well into the '60s, a middle-aged black man used to sit cross-legged, Indian style, outside the main entrance of the Olympic Auditorium on fite nites. He would sit there wearing dark glasses with a white cane with a red tip nearby. His hat turned upside down would sit on the sidewalk full of pencils. As they walked into the arena, the fans would drop coins and paper money into his hat. But, of course, very few would take a pencil. Anything to help the blind, right?.... One fite night, while milling among the crowd in front of the arena, I spotted local boxing manager Ralph Gambina walking across the street, so did our blind friend, because he jumped up and yelled, "hey Ralph Gambina" He caught himself, but it was too late; because many of the fans had seen what he had done. Soon he was gone, only to be back sitting in the same spot with his white cane,  hat, and pencils a few weeks later.

What's that old adage? "Fool me once, shame on you, fool me twice, shame on me."