?Don?t lead with your chin and never drop your guard. Victory is found in the love and loyalty of family and true friends??
Many people used to describe Joe Dwyer as a consummate politician, but the longtime NABF president, WBC official, New York State Athletic Commission chief inspector, Ring 8, Veteran Boxers Association board member, and 34-year NYPD veteran never agreed with that assessment.
Politicians are too often known for playing fast and loose with the facts or for sacrificing their personal integrity in the interests of political expediency.
Dwyer, who served on the board of the Patrolmen?s Benevolent Association for much of his storied police career, was too principled to ever willingly allow himself to be painted with such a broad brush.
Truly one of boxing?s good guys, he passed away on Feb. 8 at Winthrop-University Hospital in Mineola, Long Island, New York.
He was 76 years old and is survived by Linda, his lovely wife of 54 years who he absolutely cherished, daughters Katherine Reale and Arlene Lemiszki, son Joseph, and four grandchildren.
Dwyer was known by all for always doing what was right, even if the personal or business interests of himself or others were affected.
?While growing up in Brooklyn, there was a very clear delineation between right and wrong,? Dwyer said several years ago. ?It was always important for me to do the right thing, and I like to think that my principles have served me well.?
?Don?t lead with your chin and never drop your guard,? he often advised his nephew, Matthew Dwyer. ?Victory is found in the love and loyalty of family and true friends.?
As an amateur boxer Dwyer won 56 of 59 bouts, and he was the middleweight champion of the Sixth Fleet while serving in the Mediterranean in the U.S. Navy. On the night he was to turn professional at the Fort Hamilton Army Base in Brooklyn in 1957, the promoter told him that someone other than his longtime trainer, Al Morales, would be working his corner.
When the 20-year-old Dwyer insisted on using Morales, the promoter denigrated the trainer with an ethnic slur. Dwyer refused to fight that night, and wound up never lacing up the gloves as a pro.
?I think I could have had a good pro career, but it was a matter of principle,? he said. ?The promoter?s comments gave me an idea of what might lie ahead. I know how strong-willed I am, and things could have gotten ugly if I was exposed to that kind of prejudice.?
After a few years of working on the docks, Dwyer joined the NYPD in 1961. He was soon assigned to the Plainclothes Unit, where he investigated a gang war involving the notorious Gallo brothers. The war was the subject of a bestselling 2010 book called ?The Mad Ones: Crazy Joe Gallo and the Revolution at the Edge of the Underworld? by Tom Folsom.
?Every morning I would have coffee with Albert Gallo, whose name on the street was Kid Blast,? said Dwyer. ?We spoke in generalities, but it was my way of keeping on top of things. The Gallos didn?t have much respect for the law, but they had respect for the job I had to do because I was always a straight shooter with them.?
Dwyer joined the New York State Athletic Commission in 1983, and served as a judge and chief inspector under four different commissioners. His best moment as a judge came when he voted for unheralded Maurice Harris in a bout against Larry Holmes, the heavily favored former heavyweight champion.
Although outvoted by the other judges, boxing purists realized how much Dwyer understood the nuances and intricacies of the sport. He was lauded for seeing beyond Holmes?s lofty reputation and calling the fight correctly.
He also officiated bouts featuring such luminaries as Felix Trinidad, Oscar De La Hoya and Junior Jones.
As president of the NABF Dwyer brought much-needed credibility to the organization, which he liked to describe as the ?Triple A of professional boxing.?
He always said that police work had prepared him well for any challenges he happened to encounter.
?In boxing and in police work, you live and die by your reputation,? said Dwyer. ?It?s great to have a lot of friends, but if you are doing your job well you have to make some enemies along the way. As far as I?m concerned there is no greater legacy one can leave than their good name.?
Dwyer had the innate ability to make people feel as if they mattered. He had a genuine concern for others, a trait that served him well while representing Brooklyn police officers as a union board officer at disciplinary hearings for many years
About a decade ago Dwyer brought me aboard the NABF as a bout supervisor, a job that I enjoyed immensely but had to give up because it required extensive travel.
At the time I was going through a personal crisis and feeling emotionally under the weather. I thought I hid it well by not talking about it to anyone. If people suspected something was wrong, I?m sure my body language told them to just leave me alone.
One night, before a show at the Hammerstein Ballroom in midtown Manhattan, I was having dinner in the iconic Tick Tock Diner in the New Yorker Hotel, which is located next to the fight venue. At the table was Dwyer, the late Johnny Bos, Jill Diamond and a few others.
Dwyer subtly nudged me and asked, ?How you doing, Bobby?? I was embarrassed and shrugged off his question by very awkwardly responding, ?Who are you, my father??
What possessed me to make such an inappropriate comment to such a kind gesture, I will never know. But a nonplussed Dwyer grabbed my forearm in a very strong grip, squeezed hard, and stared into my eyes intently.
?No,? he said. ?I?m your friend. Don?t ever forget that.?
I won?t. Rest in Peace, my friend.
Dwyer?s wake will be held from 2-5 pm and 7-9 pm on Thursday, Feb. 12, at the Thomas F. Dalton Funeral Home, 29 Atlantic Avenue, Floral Park, NY 11001.
The funeral Mass will held at 9:30 am on Friday, Feb. 13, at St. Vincent DePaul Catholic Church in Elmont, Long Island.
