Morning Oregonian- 1895 Oct 23 (page 10) JACK DEMPSEY DYING CONSUMPTION ABOUT TO CLAIM THE NONPAREIL AS A VICTIM. The Hero of More than Three-Score and Ten Battles Fighting His Last Fight—Dr. Lane Talks. Jack Dempsey, the Nonpareil, from whom Fitzsimmon won his title to the middle-weight championship of the world, is dying of consumption at his home, in this city, 350 Grand avenue. The dread disease fasted itself upon him during his last Eastern tour, which commenced about 18 months ago, and when he returned home last Jul his physician, Dr. Harry Lane, pronounced his case hopeless. Other physicians of note were consulted, but all agreed with Dr. Lane that the noted ring general might live a few months, but his case must terminate fatally. Last night the Nonpareil's condition was considered critical, so critical, in fact, that a rumor was current on the streets that the end had come. An Oregonian reporter, on calling at the house at a late hour, found no confirmation for his rumor, but ascertained that the ex-champion was sinking rapidly, and the end might come at any time. Last Sunday Dempsey was up and dressed. He walked out on the porch, where he spen several hours chatting with callers. Monday, however, saw him down again, and steadily growing worse. All day yesterday and last night his death was momentarily looked for, and the friends and relatives at the house were unremitting. No one went to bed there last night. Dempsey was kept popped in the most comfortable position possible. He was alternatively mentally normal and delirious. At times he was able to recognise any one present and make known his wants with his usual intelligence; then a few moments later his condition was lamentable the reverse. He has never apparently been so low as now, yet his physician thinks there is some hope for him to pick up a trigle again and last a little longer. One who had known the Nonpareil in his prime would not easily recognise him now. The reporter was ushered into the sick champer by Mrs. Dempsey, who was glad to learn that her husband's newspaper friends were inquiring after him. "John has has another of his sinking spells," she said, "and is is probable that he will not be able to recognize uou or talk to you." And so it proved. The dying man lay on his back between sheets of snowy whiteness, a mere shadow of his former self. As the visitor approached the bed he turned a pair of eyes upon him in which there was no life or recognition. He stretched out a thin and lifeless hand, almost mechanically, but the heart grip which once characterized his handshake was gone. But that was all. Without another sign of recognition, the dying man turned away his head, and listlessly looked at the ceiling. Dr. Harry Lane, who had been a personal friend and medical adviser of Dempsey since he first came to Portland, 10 years ago, said last night that Mrs. Dempsey had been cognizant of her husband's true condition for many weeks, and, like a true wife, had kept back her grief, that his last days might be peaceful. "I never had the heart to rell poor Jack," said the doctor. "He would not have believed me had I told him, for he never did take much stock in the opinions of medical men. He has been planning what he would do when he got well, and we have planned with him. It has been his ambition to witness the coming mill between Fitzsimmons and Corbett, and he has spent hours discussing the matter with me and others of his friends, after a sick man's [unreadable]. He thinks Corbett will win if he keeps his head, but has an excellent opinion of the Australian's wonderful prowess in the ring. He says that the fight will be a terrible one, and will probably last a long time. "When they talked of fighting at Hot Springs, Jack was pleased. He told me that a trip to Hot Springs would be just the thing for him, and he wanted me to get him in shape to travel as soon as possible. But the poor fellow will never live to see the fight, or even hear the result, I fear. The end cannot be far off. Any man but Jack Dempsey, under similar condiions, would have been dead long ago. He has made a gallant fight against the inevitable, and near to death's door as he is now, I doubt if he has given up. I have seen him lie for hours in a stupor which I thought must terminate in death, and them, suddenly arousing himself, bounce out of bed with something of his old agility, and walk about the house, chatting with those about him, or romping with the children. Sometimes I have merely laid my hand upon him, when death seemed nigh, and said 'Jack.' Instantly up would go his hand, as if in defense, and then in a few minutes he would be chatting with me almost merily. "Dempsey must have contracted the fatal malady when on his last trip East. His father died of consumption at the age of 34—Jack is now almost 34—but I do not consider his trouble hereditary. You perhaps know that Jack was a mouth-breather. Any one who has ever seen him in the ring must have noticed it. You see, in his early youth he was a sufferer from nasal catarrh, and when he entered the ring, and got a few jabs on the nose, that organ became completely stopped up, and he was forced to breathe through his mouth. This I consider the seat of the trouble. Jack made a friendly call on me just before he started East to meet Billy Smith, and I took occasion to warn him then that if he did not quit dissapating, and have his nostrils cut out, he would fill a comsumptive's grave within three years. He laughed at my fears, and flatly refused to stand an operation. "I consider it one of the most wonderful circumstances of Dempsey's wonderful career that he should have fought so long in the ring under such physical conditions. His inability to breath through his nose, in a fight, was equal to carrying a 25-pound load strapped to his shoulders. Yet he won and defended his title to the middle-weight championship of the world in 71 hard-fought battles, and finally, after he had entered his decline, was only defeated by a phenominal fighter whom the world is ready to believe is the wonderful Corbett's superior. It is my candid opinion that Jack Dempsey stood longer before Fitzsimmons than will the Californian."
I read this earlier this year funnily enough. Not a cheery read is it? I was also reading about the benefit that was staged for his widow and can't remember a single thing about it
Morning Oregonian- 1895 Oct 24 (page 10) DEMPSEY GIVES UP. He Realizes His Condition and Knows He Is Sinking. For the first time in his life, poor Jack Dempsey gave up yesterday. He had rallied in the morning, and chatted in a sprightly fashion for one so weak, but he evidently felt discouraged at last. "I am sinking fast, Mary." said he to his wife, "I'm about done up." At no other time has he given the slightest indication of discouragement, but has been confident of recover. But he was too weak to hold even a glass of milk to his lips. His wife held it for him, and tenderly told him to guide it by holding her wrist. "You see, John. In this way you can hold my hand and the glass at the same time," said she. He brightened perceptibly at this. "Why, that's so," said he smilingly. As is generally known, consumption is a disease that renders the patient particularly irritable and often trying to manage. Dempsey, however, has maintained the unfalling good temper and thoughtfulness for others that have always been among his most pronounced characteristics. Morning Oregonian- 1895 Oct 25 (page 10) DEMPSEY STILL LIVES. But the End Is Certainly Not Very Far AWAY. Jack Dempsey, the hero of a hundered battles, whose life is fast ebbing from the effects of consumption of the lungs, was in a semi-conscious condition yesterday throughout the day, and, when evening csme, it was plainly apparent that the end is not far off. He scarcely moved from morning until night, as he lay on his back, with the white bedspreads drawn about him, and his emaciated arms folded in quiet repose on his breast. Aside from occasional fits of coughing, which made him give signs of distress, he did not indicate that he realized his condition. On Wednesday afternoon, a friend was admitted to the sick-room. A member of the family informed him in a low whisper that Jack was sleeping. This seemed to arouse the Nonpareil, who held up his left hand and weakly explained: "Some one bind my hand. Can't you see it's hurt? Quick, quick. I've only a minute to wait." Poor Jack's mind was wandering, and he apparently imagined he was in the ring again, and had injured his hand. His wife gently covered the white hand with a handkerchief, and he seemed to be satisfied, for he quickly lapsed into a state of insensibility again. Yesterday was by far the worst day for the sick man, and it is believed that he will give up the struggle for life in some of the early morning hours of the near future. Between midnight anf 3 o'clock A. M., when the atmosphere is heaviest, consumptives find the greatest difficulty in breathing. It is feared the great middle-weight champion will meet his last defeat during these hours, now almost any day.
Mrs. Dempsey sounds like some woman, it must have been so hard for her. Definitely not cheery, but I think it does a lot to bring you closer to his humanity.
Fantastic article, many thanks matey, such an insight into the words and speech of the day, love these type of threads, many more please. keep well.
Morning Oregonian- 1898 Mar 02 (page 10) MRS. DEMPSEY DEAD WIDOW OF THE GREAT MIDDLE-WEIGHT PUGILIST. Death Resulted From Consumption Said to Have Been Contracted While Nursing Her Husband Mrs. John Dempsey, widow of the well-known pugilist, died yesterday afternoon at the home of her father, on the East Side. She was formerly Mis Maggie Brady, and was in the prime of her life, being 32 years of age. She was born in New York, and came here with her parents, Mrs. and Mrs. James Brady, in 1871, and spent most of her life in Portland on the East Side, being only about 5 years old when she arrived at Portland. She was a handsome and well educated young woman, and popular in the circle in which she moved. She met John Dempsey several years ago, and they were married. The devotion of the couple to each other was the remark of their friends, and the outlook for a happy life was very promising. Her husband put up a neat cottage on Grand avenue, near the home of her father, ad installed her as housewie. Dempsey was quite prosperous until his encounter with Fitzsimmons, when he was beaten. From that time on he never seemed himself, and his health was destroyed. He finally came come with his wife and died from consumption, at the home of Mr. Brady. During the months of his illness Mrs. Dempsey was constantly with him, nursing and caring for him to the end. It is supposed that she contracted the disease from him. Her devotion to him will not soon be forgotten. There was not the slightest indication of consumption in her as a young girl, and her young womenhood told of robust constitution and good health. Her impaired health made its appearance shortly after the death of her husband, but she gave the subject no concern at first, and did not suspect that anything serious was the mater. But it became apparent that she was seriously affected, and she went to San Francisco for treatment. It was too late, even if it have been possible to do anything for her, for the diase then had secured a firm grip on her, that could not be shaken. She came home and remained at her father's house till her death. She will be kindly remembered by her childhood friends, and by her womanly qualities of heart and mind. She left an interesting little daughter to the care of her parents.
Great stuff. Thanks for posting. I read recently that TB is responsible 1 in 7 deaths in human history. Unreal.
Bump for an actual quality thread. Push down the trash. ------------------ Far out in the wilds of Oregon, On a lonely mountain side, Where Columbia's might waters Roll down to the ocean side; Where the giant fir and cedar Are imaged in the wave O'ergown with firs and lichens I found Jack Dempsey's grave. I found no marble monolith, No broken shaft or stone, Recording sixty victories This vanquished victor won. No rose, no shamrock could I find, No mortal here to tell Where sleeps in this forsaken spot Immortal Nonpareil.... Oh, fame why sleeps thy favored son In wilds, in woods, in weeds, And shall he ever thus sleep on, Interred his valiant deeds? Tis strange New York should thus forget Its "bravest of the brave," And in the wilds of Oregon Unmarked, leave Dempsey's grave.
What is sad is how fickle and quick to forget were the 'friends' of Dempsey, though I guess that is nothing new for men of renown. He is lucky to have had a loyal wife and some close friends, such as his attorney whose efforts resulted in the gravestone and poem, seen above.
I think there is a bit more to it. Him and Jack McAuliffe seem to have fallen out that year, though I'm not sure what happened. Quite a lot of boxers turned up for the benefit for his widow, including Tom Sharkey and Young Mitchell. There was actually going to be money raised for a larger monument for Dempsey, which John L Sullivan donated to but it never went ahead due to the wishes of Dempsey's family. Morning Oregonian- 1909 Mar 10 (page 7) DEMPSEY FUND ABANDONED RELATIVES OBJECT TO SUBSCRIPTION MONUMENT. Present Shaft Thought Sufficient and Project of Raising Another Will Be Dropped. Because the relatives of the late Jack Dempsey object to the further marking of his grave, the subscription by John S. Barnes and headed by a a [sic] contribution of $100 by John L. Sullivan will be dropped at their request. M. J. Brady, brother-in-law of the deceased "Nonpareil," took up the matter of the proposed erection of a larger monument on the grave of the well-known fighter with the friends of the deceased and when he explained to them that the grave was well kept and the present shaft amply sufficient, Mr. Barnes expressed himself as satisfied to let the matter drop and promised to do nothing further that is not in accord with the wishes of the relatives of Dempsey. "I had no idea of displeasing Dempsey's family," said John L Sullivan last night." When I learned that my old-time friend, John S. Barnes, had decided to circulate a petition to erect a handsome monument to Jack Dempsey, I thought it a good idea and voluntarily contributed $100 towards such a fund. Naturally, I had no idea the late Jack Dempsey's relatives would object, and am highly pleased to learn that his last resting place is well taken care of and marked by a suitable headstone. My offer was made in token of the high esteem in which I have always held the memory of Jack Dempsey, and I am very sorry to have been the cause of any slight to my dead friend's relatives." John S. Barnes, when he was apprised that the relatives of the Nonpareil were averse to permitting another monument to be raised, coincided with Sullivan's views in every particular, and expressed his intention of calling on Mr. Brady and explaining his action in proposing the scheme. Mr. Barnes stated he was not aware that any of the late pugilist's relatives were still living here, and is pleased to note that his old friend's grave is being amply cared for.
The Sun. 1895 Feb 01 mentions Dempsey being completed delusional after the Ryan fight, it also gives a story of McAuliffe and Dempsey falling out. https://nyshistoricnewspapers.org/l...asetext=&andtext=&dateFilterType=range&page=1
The Brooklyn Citizen- 1895 Jan 19 (page 3) His old side partner, Jack McAuliffe, said after watching "Jack's" feeble efforts: "It's a pity to see him in that shape. I think Jack must be verging on the stage of paresis to think he is still in it. Why, what do you think (and here McAuliffe's face lit up with a sad smile) the old son of a gun is dead sore on me, after being pals from boyhood days. It's to bad. Another striking lesson of a time-worn champion brought low by grape juice and his own indifference to his health."
