Introduction
August W. Oswald Jr. was born on June 20, 1891 to August W. and Christianna Oswald. His family came to the Cramer Hill when he was young. By 1920 he had married, and owned a home at 2802 Buren Avenue. At the time of the 1920 census he was working as a caulker in a shipyard, probably the Noecker, Rickenbach and Ake Shipyard which was across the street from his home. August Oswald Jr. and family was still at 2802 Buren Avenue in 1930, and then working in the coal business. He was the licensee for the bar at 1000 N. 27th Street in 1939. He also had a trucking business.
I lived at 2822 Harrison Avenue from my birth in 1928, until about 1942, when my family moved to Magnolia. In those years, Augie Oswald owned the bar [later known as Jimmy’s Tavern – pmc], and they had a daughter, Dolly. I remember that she had a horse, and one day they had the horse in the bar. What excitement!
I seem to remember that Oswald also had a trucking business, and one day, he took us in the back of his dump truck, to see a Shirley Temple movie at the Auditorium Theater, which later became the Rio.
— Carl J. Niedermayer, July 10, 2016
By 1946 August Oswald apparently was not involved in the bar at 1000 North 27th Street, which by then was called Dick’s Cafe, and operated by Richard “Dick” and Anna C. Bowen. 2802 Buren Avenue would be the home of Jimmy’s Tavern from the 1940s through the 1970s.
August Oswald still kept a residence at 2802 Buren Avenue as late as 1959. He moved to Cape May NJ sometime later, passing away in September of 1970.
Life Hereabouts
Camden Courier-Post —
Life Hereabouts
BY CHARLEY HUMES
DOWN MEMORY LANE with that Old Gang of Yours . . . in a few of the years when Our Town was as good a sport town as any in the land . . . from the time that Taylor and Gunnis promoted fights through the years to Roxey Allen . . . Mickey Blair . . . Eddie Chaney . . . Shamus Maguire . . . Pee Wee Ross . . . Jackie Hindle . . . Watson Finch . . . Georgie Abner . . . Nick Nicholas . . . Dixie Allen . . .
The days when Camden was the Mecca for Philly fight fans . . . with champions like Mike O’Dowd . . . Benny Leonard . . . Pete Herman . . . Jimmy Wilde . . . Gene Tunney . . . fighting in the Armory on Haddon avenue . . . for One, Two and Three . . . tax included . . . the days of John Smith . . . whose son, Lee, became one of our great friends . . . the days when Philly came to Camden to see the best fighters in the land . . .
AND THEN DOWN through the years with Lou McFarland . . . Higgins and Kaplan . . . Tommy James . . . the man named Doyle who always gave us a smile when we called him “Mister” because he was so kind . . . When Sergeant Ray Smith became a referee . . . “Pose” Robinson . . . the days of Willie Davis . . . Harry Smith . . . Jim Kelly . . .
Fights in the ball park at Twelfth and Federal streets . . . at the Fairview Ball Park . . . in the Temple Theatre . . . the Star Theatre . . . Newt Blanchard, the only promoter who gave us MORE money than we asked for . . . The Broadway Theatre . . . the early days of Convention Hall . . .
THE TIME they opened the Plaza Hotel Gym and all the fine lads on the program . . . with the late Mayor Stewart in the audience . . . and many other dignitaries . . . and being “dared” into a match with Ray Smith, because his opponent failed to show . . . the same guy who fought Tunney . . . Mike Brennan . . . Gibbons . . . Martin . . . Dempsey . . . Loughran . . . and seeing the Sergeant’s body covered with blood in the second round . . . our very own blood . . .
THE YEARS when Gloucester city was the fightenest town in the nation . . .
The days of K. O. Joey O’Donnell . . . who fought them all. . . Of Frankie Conway . . . who never took a backward step . . . and still has the same courage today. . . . Of Willie Spencer . . . who headlined show after show. . . . Charlie Daggert . . . now a referee in Philly. . . . Jimmy Rafferty . . . Eddie (Kid) Wagner . . . Young Sherlock . . . Abe Wustbond, later an instructor of boxing at Herman’s gym in Philly . . . Eddie Forrest . . . and his brother, who fought Battling Nelson . . . the crowd-pleasing Willie Fuller . . . Joey O’Connor.
Back when “Chick” Hunt fought under the name of Eddie Melson . . . and later, in professional ranks, the night he fought Joe “Kid” Fisher at the Apollo theatre in Gloucester. . . . Chick is our friend today . . . but we don’t believe he ever will forgive us for that night when we yelled at Joe to . . . well, we yelled at Joe; . . . The days of Harry “Dick” Donohue, trainer and manager of Nick Nichols.
AND THE BEST, learning the business under the incomparable Eddie Prince . . . who knows how to condition fighters . . . then and now . . . with the best in the nation. . . . The days when they called Mister Georgano “Lemons” . . . but affectionately . . . not because he was ever sour.
When Johnny Sapio . . . who only days ago was honored at a banquet at Weber’s Hof Brau by so many people the walls bulged . . . fought under the name of Young Joe Grim.
HOW MANY will remember when our own Eddie Garrity, now the sedate deputy director of public safety in Our Town, was a boxer . . . with plenty on the ball? . . . When George Murphy boxed around here . . . and the Tighe brothers, Eddie and Jimmy . . . Remember Richie Hoehner? . . . Jimmie Jordan? . . . Eddie Douglas? . . . Bobby Graham, then a soldier stationed in Gloucester? . . . Steve Jackson? . . . Frankie McLaughlin (whose brother Neil WAS on Retreat with us, Mrs. McLaughlin, and gave us much of this information)?
Recall Johnny “Homo” Bryan? . . . Duncan Carswell, Jimmy and Jack Dean, referees, all three? . . . Theo Ellick, the matchmaker. . . . And who could forget Joe Spearing, afraid of nobody then and now . . . he fought our boy Fisher three times to our knowledge . . . once in Atlantic City . . . another at one of the ball parks here and the third (the windup, no less) in Gloucester. . . . Who won . . . who cares?
THE DAYS when a Cook was a promoter . . . and a Politician(?) got the gravy. . . . The time “Red” Haines fought Roxey Allen over top the old Standard movies at Second and Vine streets . . . amateur against a near-champ . . . and what a battle . . . when Everett Joslin and Johnny Taylor were on the First district wagon and backed it up to the door leading to the second floor, and all the people gathering around because they thought it was a raid . . . and all they came to see was a round or two of the fights.
Back when Joey Powell had an iron fist . . . and Soldier Freedman an iron jaw. . . . When Mayor Victor King was always in the front row at the bouts . . . when Augie Oswald “worked” the river in his boat for shad and other fish . . . when a dollar was a dollar and not 27 cents . . . when the downtown fight gym was operated by Charley Mack . . . whose brother Battling Mack was a great drawing card and a great fighter . . . and Charley was no softie, either.
THE SUMMER BOUTS in the ball park when you could get a swell bleacher seat for half a buck—and be closer to the bouts than $50 seats at some of the big clubs now . . . and see better fights, too.
When Camden had growing pains . . . and its people started moving to the suburbs . . . when a guy who made 40 slugs a week was a “big executive.” . . . When copy boys on the papers got $4 a week . . . and had enough left over from their salary to lend money to reporters who made the tremendous sum of $25 a week. . . . Great days, say you . . . great days, say us. . . . Nostalgia.
Life Hereabouts — Down Memory Lane
in the Armory on Haddon avenue . . . for One, Two and Three . . . tax included . . . the days of John Smith . . . whose son, Lee, became one of our great friends . . . the days when Philly came to Camden to see the best fighters in the land . . .
AND THEN DOWN through the years with Lou McFarland . . . Higgins and Kaplan . . . Tommy James . . . the man named Doyle who always gave us a smile when we called him "Mister" because he was so kind . . . When Sergeant Ray Smith became a referee . . . "Pose" Robinson . . . the days of Willie Davis . . . Harry Smith . . . Jim Kelly
Fights in the ball park at Twelfth and Federal streets . . . at the Fairview Ball Park . . .
Life Hereabouts — Down Memory Lane
in the Temple Theatre . . . the Star Theatre . . . . Newt Blanchard, the only promoter who gave us MORE money than we asked for . . . . The Broadway Theatre . . . the early days of Convention Hall . . .
THE TIME they opened the Plaza Hotel Gym and all the fine lads on the program . . . with the late Mayor Stewart in the audience . . . and many other dignitaries . . . and being "dared" into a match with Ray Smith, because his opponent failed to show . . . . the same guy who fought Tunney . . . Mike Brennan . . . Gibbons . . . Martin . . . Dempsey . . . Loughran . . . and seeing the Sergeant's body covered with blood in the second round . . . our very own blood . . .
Life Hereabouts — Down Memory Lane
THE YEARS when Gloucester city was the fightenest town in the nation . . .
The days of K. O. Joey O'Donnell . . . who fought them all. . . . Of Frankie Conway . . . who never took a backward step . . . and still has the same courage today. . . . Of Willie Spencer . . . who headlined show after show. . . . Charlie Daggert . . . now a referee in Philly. . . . Jimmy Rafferty . . . Eddie (Kid) Wagner . . . Young Sherlock . . . Abe Wustbond, later an instructor of boxing at Herman's gym in Philly . . . Eddie Forrest . . . and his brother, who fought Battling Nelson . . . the crowd-pleasing Willie Fuller . . . Joey O'Connor.
Back when "Chick" Hunt fought under the name of Eddie Melson . . . and later, in professional ranks, the night he fought Joe "Kid" Fisher at the Apollo theatre in Gloucester. . . .
Life Hereabouts — Down Memory Lane
Melson . . . and later, in professional ranks, the night he fought Joe "Kid" Fisher at the Apollo theatre in Gloucester. . . . Chick is our friend today . . . but we don't believe he ever will forgive us for that night when we yelled at Joe to . . . well, we yelled at Joe; . . . The days of Harry "Dick" Donohue, trainer and manager of Nick Nichols.
AND THE BEST, learning the business under the incomparable Eddie Prince . . . who knows how to condition fighters . . . then and now . . . with the best in the nation. . . . The days when they called Mister Georgano "Lemons" . . . but affectionately . . . not because he was ever sour.
When Johnny Sapio . . . who only days ago was honored at a banquet at Weber's Hof Brau by so many people the walls bulged . . . fought under the name of Young Joe Grim.
Life Hereabouts — Down Memory Lane
only days ago was honored at a banquet at Weber's Hof Brau by so many people the walls bulged . . . fought under the name of Young Joe Grim.
HOW MANY will remember when our own Eddie Garrity, now the sedate deputy director of public safety in Our Town, was a boxer . . . with plenty on the ball? . . . When George Murphy boxed around here . . . and the Tighe brothers, Eddie and Jimmy. . . . Remember Richie Hoehner? . . . . Jimmie Jordan? . . . Eddie Douglas? . . . Bobby Graham, then a soldier stationed in Gloucester? . . . . Steve Jackson? . . . Frankie McLaughlin (whose brother Neil WAS on Retreat with us, Mrs. McLaughlin, and gave us much of this information)?
Life Hereabouts — Down Memory Lane
Recall Johnny "Homo" Bryan? . . . Duncan Carswell, Jimmy and Jack Dean, referees, all three? . . . Theo Ellick, the matchmaker. . . . And who could forget Joe Spearing, afraid of nobody then and now . . . he fought our boy Fisher three times to our knowledge . . . once in Atlantic City . . . another at one of the ball parks here and the third (the windup, no less) in Gloucester. . . . Who won . . . who cares?
THE DAYS when a Cook was a promoter . . . and a Politician(?) got the gravy. . . . The time "Red" Haines fought Roxey Allen over top the old Standard movies at Second and Vine streets . . . amateur against a near-champ . . . and what a bat-
Life Hereabouts — Down Memory Lane
tle . . . when Everett Joslin and Johnny Taylor were on the First district wagon and backed it up to the door leading to the second floor, and all the people gathering around because they thought it was a raid . . . and all they came to see was a round or two of the fights.
Back when Joey Powell had an iron fist . . . and Soldier Freedman an iron jaw. . . . When Mayor Victor King was always in the front row at the bouts . . . when Augie Oswald "worked" the river in his boat for shad and other fish . . . when a dollar was a dollar and not 27 cents . . . when the downtown fight gym was operated by Charley Mack . . . whose brother Battling Mack was a great drawing card and a great fighter . . . and Charley was no softie, either.
DOWN MEMORY LANE with that Old Gang of Yours . . . in a few of the years when Our Town was as good a sport town as any in the land . . . from the time that Taylor and Gunnis promoted fights through the years to Roxey Allen . . . Mickey Blair . . . Eddie Chaney . . . Shamus Maguire . . . Pee Wee Ross . . . Jackie Hindle . . . Watson Finch . . . Georgie Abner . . . Nick Nicholas . . . Dixie Allen . . .
The days when Camden was the Mecca for Philly fight fans . . . with champions like Mike O’Dowd . . . Benny Leonard . . . Pete Herman . . . Jimmy Wilde . . . Gene Tunney . . . fighting in the Armory on Haddon avenue . . . for One, Two and Three . . . tax included . . . the days of John Smith . . . whose son, Lee, became one of our great friends . . . the days when Philly came to Camden to see the best fighters in the land . . .
AND THEN DOWN through the years with Lou McFarland . . . Higgins and Kaplan . . . Tommy James . . . the man named Doyle who always gave us a smile when we called him “Mister” because he was so kind . . . When Sergeant Ray Smith became a referee . . . “Pose” Robinson . . . the days of Willie Davis . . . Harry Smith . . . Jim Kelly . . .
Fights in the ball park at Twelfth and Federal streets . . . at the Fairview Ball Park . . . in the Temple Theatre . . . the Star Theatre . . . Newt Blanchard, the only promoter who gave us MORE money than we asked for . . . The Broadway Theatre . . . the early days of Convention Hall . . .
THE TIME they opened the Plaza Hotel Gym and all the fine lads on the program . . . with the late Mayor Stewart in the audience . . . and many other dignitaries . . . and being “dared” into a match with Ray Smith, because his opponent failed to show . . . the same guy who fought Tunney . . . Mike Brennan . . . Gibbons . . . Martin . . . Dempsey . . . Loughran . . . and seeing the Sergeant’s body covered with blood in the second round . . . our very own blood . . .
THE YEARS when Gloucester city was the fightenest town in the nation . . .
The days of K.O. Joey O’Donnell . . . who fought them all. . . . Of Frankie Conway . . . who never took a backward step . . . and still has the same courage today. . . . Of Willie Spencer . . . who headlined show after show. . . . Charlie Daggert . . . now a referee in Philly. . . . Jimmy Rafferty . . . Eddie (Kid) Wagner . . . Young Sherlock . . . Abe Wustbond, later an instructor of boxing at Herman’s gym in Philly . . . Eddie Forrest . . . and his brother, who fought Battling Nelson . . . the crowd-pleasing Willie Fuller . . . Joey O’Connor.
Back when “Chick” Hunt fought under the name of Eddie Melson . . . and later, in professional ranks, the night he fought Joe “Kid” Fisher at the Apollo theatre in Gloucester. . . . Chick is our friend today . . . but we don’t believe he ever will forgive us for that night when we yelled at Joe to . . . well, we yelled at Joe; . . . The days of Harry “Dick” Donohue, trainer and manager of Nick Nichols.
AND THE BEST, learning the business under the incomparable Eddie Prince . . . who knows how to condition fighters . . . then and now . . . with the best in the nation. . . . The days when they called Mister Georgano “Lemons” . . . but affectionately . . . not because he was ever sour.
When Johnny Sapio . . . who only days ago was honored at a banquet at Weber’s Hof Brau by so many people the walls bulged . . . fought under the name of Young Joe Grim.
HOW MANY will remember when our own Eddie Garrity, now the sedate deputy director of public safety in Our Town, was a boxer . . . with plenty on the ball? . . . When George Murphy boxed around here . . . and the Tighe brothers, Eddie and Jimmy. . . . Remember Richie Hoehner? . . . Jimmie Jordan? . . . Eddie Douglas? . . . Bobby Graham, then a soldier stationed in Gloucester? . . . Steve Jackson? . . . Frankie McLaughlin (whose brother Neil WAS on Retreat with us, Mrs. McLaughlin, and gave us much of this information)?
Recall Johnny “Homo” Bryan? . . . Duncan Carswell, Jimmy and Jack Dean, referees, all three? . . . Theo Ellick, the matchmaker. . . . And who could forget Joe Spearing, afraid of nobody then and now . . . he fought our boy Fisher three times to our knowledge . . . once in Atlantic City . . . another at one of the ball parks here and the third (the windup, no less) in Gloucester. . . . Who won . . . who cares?
THE DAYS when a Cook was a promoter . . . and a Politician(?) got the gravy. . . . The time “Red” Haines fought Roxey Allen over top the old Standard movies at Second and Vine streets . . . amateur against a near-champ . . . and what a battle . . . when Everett Joslin and Johnny Taylor were on the First district wagon and backed it up to the door leading to the second floor, and all the people gathering around because they thought it was a raid . . . and all they came to see was a round or two of the fights.
Back when Joey Powell had an iron fist . . . and Soldier Freeman an iron jaw. . . . When Mayor Victor King was always in the front row at the bouts . . . when Augie Oswald “worked” the river in his boat for shad and other fish . . . when a dollar was a dollar and not 27 cents . . . when the downtown fight gym was operated by Charley Mack . . . whose brother Battling Mack was a great drawing card and a great fighter . . . and Charley was no softie, either.
THE SUMMER BOUTS in the ball park when you could get a swell bleacher seat for half a buck—and be closer to the bouts than $50 seats at some of the big clubs now . . . and see better fights, too.
When Camden had growing pains . . . and its people started moving to the suburbs . . . when a guy who made 40 slugs a week was a “big executive.” . . . When copy boys on the papers got $4 a week . . . and had enough left over from their salary to lend money to reporters who made the tremendous sum of $25 a week. . . . Great days, say you . . . great days, say us. . . . Nostalgia.