Real Fireworks : 80 Years Ago, Fans Watched Two Fighters Down at Once

Eighty years ago today, 11,000 Los Angeles boxing fans filed into a stadium in Vernon to watch a fight. They wound up seeing a near-riot.

The disturbance erupted when the referee botched the closest thing boxing has had to a true double knockout.

It was a title bout, Adolfus (Ad) Wolgast of Cadillac, Mich., defending his world lightweight championship against Joe Rivers of Los Angeles.

Rivers, 20, was an artful boxer who had lost only once in two years.

Wolgast, 24, was defending his championship for the fourth time since taking it from Battling Nelson in 1910.

A lively scrap between a proven, rugged champion and a talented, skillful challenger was anticipated. But no one was prepared for the finish.

Decades later, cartoonist Robert Ripley memorialized Rivers-Wolgast in his “Believe it or Not” feature as boxing’s only “double-knockout” fight. It wasn’t exactly that, but Ripley’s characterization came close.

When the fight ended, in the 13th round, both men were on the canvas. Rivers was howling in pain, complaining of a low blow. Wolgast, too, clutched his groin, complaining that Rivers had kneed him.

While a hesitant referee, Jack Welsh, started the count over Rivers, he also enraged Rivers partisans by helping Wolgast to his feet.

And then, for reasons he never made clear, the referee pointed to Wolgast, who sat in his corner, designating him the winner.

As outraged fans poured into the ring, Welsh, a San Franciscan, quietly disappeared into the crowd, went to the train station and left town unharmed.

This was an era when gambling in sports was far more rampant than today, when even fighters bet heavily on themselves. Those who had wagered heavily on Rivers were apoplectic at the fight’s sudden ending--particularly since their man, even Wolgast fans agreed, was winning the fight.

Wolgast maintained that he had hit Rivers with a legal punch to the mid-section, then had lost his balance and fallen over him. He said Rivers had accidentally kneed him in the groin as Wolgast fell over him.

Rivers claimed to his dying day that he had hit Wolgast with a legal body blow at the instant that Wolgast had hit him low.

Many said that the veteran referee, Welsh--who said he had seen no low blows--became confused and simply lost control.

Whatever, it was a Fourth of July fight Los Angeles boxing fans talked about for a generation.

One spring morning in 1955, Times sportswriter Frank Finch read a short news item about a Joe Rivers being injured in a downtown crosswalk accident.

Wondering if it was the Joe Rivers, Finch called the Georgia Street Receiving Hospital, where the injured pedestrian had been taken with a broken ankle.

It was the Joe Rivers.

Finch, reading the police report of the mishap, saw that Rivers’ occupation was noted as “ex-pug.” He also noted that Rivers, 63, had been ticketed for jaywalking.

Finch called on Rivers in the hospital and made an appointment for an interview.

A few weeks later, Finch found Rivers living in a small, windowless hotel room on West Second Street, in downtown Los Angeles.

The room had a wash basin in a corner, a dresser, an iron bed and an unshaded light bulb, dangling by a cord from the ceiling.

He owned only one item of value, a 200-year-old violin that he played daily. Finch learned that Rivers was the son of an accomplished musician who had spoken four languages and taught school.

Moreover, Finch learned that Rivers, despite having been known in his fighting days as “Mexican Joe,” was not Mexican at all. Instead, he was three-quarters Spanish, one-quarter California mission Indian.

Rivers told Finch that his real name was Jose Ybarra, and that Ybarras had been born in Southern California since they came here from Spain in 1825.

Not knowing this, however, later boxing writers frequently and incorrectly referred to Rivers as one of Southern California’s first prominent Mexican fighters.

When he was in his mid-teens, Rivers explained, he had shown some talent in a Los Angeles boxing gym. When a trainer had difficulty pronouncing his name, he asked Rivers where he lived.

“Down by the river,” he said.

“OK, from now on it’s Joe Rivers,” the trainer said.

Finch asked the old fighter what had happened to his money, after Rivers had told him he had earned $230,000 in his career, from 1910-1923.

“Who knows?” Rivers said. “I spent it. I was a kid. Thought I’d be makin’ it all my life. Spent it like a drunken sailor.”

It seemed like an accurate characterization. Rivers, who earned $7,500--his opponent earned a $15,000 purse and an added $4,500 by betting on himself--from the Wolgast fight alone, once bought a $3,000 diamond ring because he had heard Wolgast owned a $2,000 ring.

In the second decade of the 20th Century, Rivers was a familiar sight on the streets of Los Angeles, always clad in a stylish suit and straw skimmer, using a walking stick and leading his bulldog, Bear, on a chain.

And there was a $7,500 Simplex touring car--almost a Rolls-Royce in its day. He had 46 suits at one time.

“I kept a tailor in business just making suits for me,” he told Finch.

Also during his high-rolling years, he built a house for his mother. The two-story house still stands on Solano Street, near Dodger Stadium.

When his fighting days ended and the money was gone, Rivers found work as a movie extra, appearing in boxing roles in silent films. He also refereed fights and sold men’s clothes.

He was a shipyard worker during World War II but was nearly penniless when Finch found him in 1955. When he needed money, he said, he got pawn shop loans on his antique violin.

“I guess I had a million friends in my time,” he told Finch.

“Most of them are dead now. Or like old Ad Wolgast--lost their marbles. Or old Sam Langford--he was a good old boy, wouldn’t hurt a fly. Sam’s blind and broke, somewhere.

“A million friends. Gone now. The others, they don’t seem to drop around much any more.”

Historian Herbert G. Goldman of Boxing Illustrated recently ranked Rivers-Wolgast No. 2 among the most controversial fights in history.

No. 1, in Goldman’s ranking, was the second Muhammad Ali-Sonny Liston fight, at Lewiston, Me., in 1965. Third-ranked was the 1990 Meldrick Taylor-Julio Cesar Chavez fight at Las Vegas.

The banner headline in The Times, July 5, 1912: “Rivers-Wolgast Battle Ends in Near-Riot.”

In his story, Times boxing writer De Witt Van Court, a Los Angeles Athletic Club boxing instructor, said the referee had made a mistake. By Van Court’s and other written accounts, Rivers was winning handily.

Van Court wrote: “I saw Wolgast hit Rivers a hard left-hand (punch) in the groin as plain as I ever saw anything. . . . I believe Rivers hit hit him square in the stomach (at the same time) and knocked his wind out.

“I also believe that Rivers was entitled to the decision on a foul.”

Films of the fight seem to indicate that Rivers’ and Van Court’s versions are closest to the truth. They also clearly show that Welsh was thoroughly confused by the sudden sight of having both contestants on the floor.

He is shown pointing to Wolgast, designating him the winner, then he’s not seen again as spectators pour into the ring.

Said Wolgast, later that day: “I didn’t foul (Rivers). I hit him, he went down and he was counted out.”

Three doctors who examined Rivers said he appeared to have been hit low. Both Rivers and his manager, Joe Levy, raged, demanding a rematch. But that was long before state boxing commissions, and as champion, Wolgast was free to fight anyone he chose.

Rivers fought Wolgast again in 1914 in Milwaukee--after Wolgast had lost his title--and got a draw.

Although he fought and beat prominent fighters of his day, such as Jimmy Reagan, Johnny Kilbane, Jack White and Frankie Conley, Rivers’ controversial loss to Wolgast in Vernon was the closest he ever came to winning a championship.

Wolgast lost his title in his next defense, to Willie Ritchie, at Colma, Calif.

Rivers fought in most major cities in America over the next decade, retiring in 1923.

Wolgast died at 67 in 1955 at Camarillo State Mental Hospital, where he had been confined for many years. Rivers was a pall bearer at his funeral.

Wolgast is buried on a treeless slope at Forest Lawn-Hollywood Hills, a few feet from Forest Lawn Drive.

His flat grave marker reads:

Ad Wolgast

Ex-Lightweight Champion

1889-1955

Rivers was 65 when he died in 1957. He’s buried in a breezy, tree-shaded section of Calvary Cemetery in East Los Angeles.

His marker reads:

Joseph Y. Rivers

1892-1957

One of Boxing’s Greats