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No Man Stands Alone
Chapter 5: Battles of the Ghetto
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In the
rough, tough slum neighborhood where we lived, kids stole as a
matter of course, and kids fought and beat each other up as a
matter of course. There was a lot of anti-Semitism and gang wars
were fought out on racial lines-there were Polish gangs, Italian
gangs, Irish gangs, and Jewish gangs. A gang of Polish kids
would come marching into our neighborhood with blood in their
eye and start screaming, "Piss on you, you dirty sheenies." Our
Jewish kids would come roaring at them, with blood in their
eyes, and the fight would be on. One day the fight would be
in the Jewish ghetto, the next day in the Polish neighborhood a
couple of blocks away, the next day in the Italian neighborhood
just over the railroad tracks.
I knew how Pa felt about street fights, but I just couldn't
follow his teachings about avoiding all fighting. I desperately
wanted to be accepted as one of the
boys, and I was scared stiff of being called a "religious
yellow-belly." I finally worked things out this way-I wouldn't
start any fights, but if somebody slugged me or slugged or
cursed my buddies, I'd hit back. Despite my small size and
skinny body, I could give a fairly good account of myself in
self-defense. I was so fast on my feet and so agile that I was
able to get in a few quick punches, then dance and weave so much
that my opponent would knock himself out trying to hang one on
me. I couldn't keep this up for too long a time, because of my
short breath, but usually when I started to get winded, some of
my pals like Ira, Marty "Gordie" Brin, Chuck Goodman and Harry
Warner, would pitch in to help the "little guy" out.
Fist fights were only a starter. We also battled it out with
sticks, rocks, brass knuckles, and beer bottles, and sometimes
the blood would run over the street. |
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Barney Ross recalling
his youth
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