The Saga of Joe & Max

The fight that changed the world, 22 June 1938. The House That Ruth Built. The Brown Bomber versus the Black Uhlan of the Rhine. Epic showdown of two races, two homelands, two ways of life.

In 1936, Max Schmeling, golden boy of Hitler and the Nazi regime defeated Joe Louis in a match marred with controversy. The rematch would take place two years later in the most fitting venue for the Stars and Stripes: Yankee Stadium. Louis had gone on to defeat James J. Braddock in eight rounds, becoming world champion. He refused to recognize himself as the rightful heir to the strap until he could defeat Schmeling.

Pre fight propaganda was at a peak; the United States was still feeling the effects of the Great Depression, and was awash in sullen despair. Germany, under the unsettling reign of Hitler, was in the midst of a revival, and undoubtedly the biggest threat to freedom worldwide. Two mega powers steered in opposing directions, the Americans simply could not afford the lingering effects of a defeat at the hands of the Nazis. Anti German propaganda snowballed, bequeathing Louis the back-breaking weight as the hope of a nation.

President Franklin Delano Roosevelt conjured a conference with the Detroit bred professor of the “Sweet Science”, essentially demanding a victory to salvage the morale of the States. The German contingency, unabashedly and fervently opposed to all non Aryan ilk, ridiculed the African American champion, belittling the U.S. and it’s reliance on what they blindly conceived to be an “inferior” black opponent.

Hitler not only expected a command repeat performance from Schmeling, but exploited the pugilist as well, scripting interviews and statements with an anti American/black sentiment, positioning Schmeling as a loyalist to his regime.

Schmeling’s convictions went against the grain of the newly indoctrinated German people and could be considered treasonous and punishable by death. On paper, he was a combatant and proctor for the Nazi party. Internally, he despised the fascist movement that was leaving his Motherland in ruins, and he held a special contempt for the maniacal dictatorship of Hitler. In an act of defiance, Schmeling, who never joined the party, refused to relinquish the services of his Jewish American manager, the first shot fired in a rapidly approaching battle between the incumbent scourge and the punishing heavyweight.

The fight drew over seventy thousand strong. Notable attendees, foreshadowing the modern sport/celebrity dynamic, included Gregory Peck, Douglas Fairbanks, Clark Gable, Gary Cooper, and J.Edgar Hoover. Schmeling would be without his manager due to “improprieties” from a previous bout with another fighter he managed, perhaps a ploy from the Americans to gain an edge, and his corner man, who opted out to avoid persecution for aiding a German.

While Max stewed nervously pre fight, the American Champion took a two hour nap. Somewhat anticlimactic, Schmeling began the fight using the same straight punch style that allowed him to emerge victorious in the first encounter. After feinting and toying with the German for a few seconds, Louis let loose two years of pent up aggression, annihilating and outclassing the Rhineland opponent in less than two minutes. When the curtain fell on Schmeling during the first round, he had landed two punches. The Bomber had landed 31 out of 41 shots, an utter and complete dominance. Schmeling left the canvas with cracked ribs and a villainous identity as the man who embarrassed the “superior” Aryan race. In an act of class, Louis attempted to visit the fallen idol in the hospital, but Hitler’s entourage would not allow the merger to occur.

Louis became a celebrated figure amongst his people, the patriot who had conquered the evil of The Third Reich. Black Americans, downtrodden second class citizens from the vantage of the ruling white majority, rejoiced at the triumph of one of their own. As the great poet laureate Maya Angelou prosed, “Champion of the world. Black boy. Some black mother’s son. He was the strongest man in the world. People drank Coca-Cola like ambrosia and ate candy like Christmas.”

But to the prejudiced mainstream, even upon uplifting his people and a depression laden nation, Louis’ feats would come with an asterisk, due to the enduring and implicit racism of the time. As Lewis F. Atchison of The Washington Post scribed, “Joe Louis, the lethargic, chicken eating young colored boy, reverted to his dreaded role of the ‘Brown Bomber’ tonight”.

Henry McLemore of the United Press opined “A jungle man, completely primitive as any savage, out to destroy the thing he hates”. The savior and rallying cry of a country he had just united, Louis in victory was the recipient of the same vitriol he had just defeated against Hitler.

Regarded as the first national African American hero, Louis should have been received as a national hero to all creeds, but the same public that commanded courageous valor did not welcome him with open arms when he delivered. Joe enlisted in the Service, never seeing battle, but once more pledging allegiance to a reluctant republic. The Bomber would fall on hard times, losing his finances and his essence for a time to illicit drug use, his legend not truly realized until after his demise. His remaining days were spent unfittingly as a greeter at Caesars Palace, but post mortem, the Bomber has rightly been recognized as a cultural iconoclast, a hearty slice of American pie, and perhaps the spark that ignited the fire that was the rebirth of a country.

Max Schmeling would recover professionally, moving on to capture the European championship. His public resistance to the Nazi oppression becoming more and more documented, Hitler ended the brilliant boxing exploits of his onetime ace in the hole in one fell swoop, enlisting him to serve as a paratrooper in the German empire. Surviving the hell of war, Schmeling would land his trademark jab to the Fuhrer’s glass jaw, safeguarding a Jewish friend’s pair of young sibling boys from the Gestapo. Smuggling the children to the States, they would go on to accomplish many career successes, nominating Schmeling as the man who saved their lives- while endangering his own.

Humble and dignified, the world would not know of this tale until 1989, as Max truly embraced moral action without acknowledgement. Postwar, the man who once lamented his one regret to be that he didn’t “Kick Hitler’s ass”, became a distinguished business leader, and the individual who brought the Coca-Cola brand to the Rhineland.

Louis and Schmeling became lifelong friends. Max would fly to Vegas on a regular basis, often supplying his compadre with cash and other necessities, ensuring the Champ’s well being. He was a pallbearer at Joe’s funeral, and fell just shy of his 100th year before joining his counterpart . The unlikely bond forged between the two was poetic justice. Each fighting for his people, each met with a turned back from the very people he fought for. Each with contributions made in vain in the living years, each with efforts unilaterally lauded in memoriam.

Pitted as natural enemies, the ring ropes in the Bronx that night caged two men at war, but not with each other. Gentlemen of a barbaric sport and ambassadors for humanity, Joe Louis and Max Schmeling were many things to many people. To one another, they simply were brothers.