
DENISHAWN ENCYCLOPEDIA OF POPULAR CULTURE
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Dempsey soon found himself in a peculiarly modern position: he
became a sports hero—or anti-hero—whose image took on extraordi-
nary significance in the climate of publicity and marketing that was
coming to dominate sports promotion. Pre-television marketing tech-
niques which stressed his rogue style of fighting and his alleged draft
evasion turned his title fight against the decorated French combat
pilot George Carpentier into a titanic clash between ‘‘Good’’ and
‘‘Evil.’’ The July 2, 1921, match was a fight of firsts: it was the first
fight ever to be broadcast on radio, the first fight to gross over a
million dollars, and it was fought before the largest crowd ever to
witness a sporting event up to that time. Amid a chorus of cheers and
jeers of ‘‘Slacker!,’’ Dempsey dispatched Carpentier in round three
and somehow won over the 90,000 member crowd. Dempsey defend-
ed his crown several more times, most notably against Argentinian
Luis Angel ‘‘The Bull of the Pampas’’ Firpo. Dempsey sent Firpo to
the floor seven times before Firpo knocked the champ clear out of the
ring to close the first round. Dempsey made it back into the ring and
ended the fight 57 seconds into the second round with a knockout.
Dempsey lost his title on points to Gene Tunney. The resulting
rematch would become one of the most contested fights in boxing
history. Chicago’s Soldier Field was swollen with the 104,943 fans
who packed the stadium for the September 23, 1927, fight and
provided boxing’s first two-million dollar gate. Referee Dave Barry
made the terms of the fight clear: ‘‘In the event of a knockdown, the
man scoring the knockdown will go to the farthest neutral corner. Is
that clear?’’ Both men nodded. Tunney outboxed Dempsey in the first
six rounds, but in the seventh Dempsey unloaded his lethal left hook
and sent Tunney to the floor. Barry shouted, ‘‘Get to a neutral
corner!’’ but Dempsey stood still. At the count of three he moved to
the corner; at five he was in the neutral zone. In one of the most
momentous decisions in boxing history, referee Barry restarted the
count at ‘‘One.’’ Tunney got up on ‘‘Nine’’—which would have been
‘‘Fourteen’’ but for Barry’s restart. Tunney stayed out of Dempsey’s
reach for the rest of the round, floored Dempsey briefly in the eighth,
and won a 10-round decision. The bout, immortalized as ‘‘The Battle
of the Long Count,’’ has been described in an HBO sports documenta-
ry as ‘‘purely and simply the greatest fistic box-office attraction of all
time.’’ Despite the fact that Dempsey lost, the fight allowed him to
reinvent himself, according to Steven Farhood, editor-in-chief of
Ring magazine: ‘‘He was viewed as a villain, not a hero, but after
losing to Tunney, he was a hero and he remained such until his death.’’
Dempsey retired after this match, although he still boxed exhibi-
tions. A large amount of the $3.5 million that he earned in purses was
lost in the Wall Street Crash, but Dempsey was a shrewd businessman
who had invested well in real estate. In 1936 he opened Jack
Dempsey’s Restaurant in New York City and hosted it for more than
thirty years. During World War II, he served as a physical education
instructor in the Coast Guard, thus wiping his alleged ‘‘slacker’’ slate
clean. Jack Dempsey, ‘‘the first universally accepted American sports
superstar,’’ according to Farhood, died on May 31, 1983, at the age of
87 in New York City.
—Rob van Kranenburg
F
URTHER READING:
Dempsey, Jack, with Barbara Piatelli Dempsey. Dempsey. New York,
Harper & Row, 1977.
Evensen, Bruce J. When Dempsey Fought Tunney: Heroes, Hokum,
and Storytelling in the Jazz Age. Knoxville, University of Tennes-
see Press, 1996.
Roberts, Randy. Jack Dempsey: The Manassa Mauler. Baton Rouge,
Louisiana State University Press, 1979.
Smith, Toby. Kid Blackie: Jack Dempsey’s Colorado Days. Ouray,
Colorado, Wayfinder Press, 1987.
Denishawn
In 1915, dancers Ruth St. Denis and Ted Shawn founded a
pioneering company and training school in Los Angeles that became
known as Denishawn. The training they provided for their students—
who also served as company members—was highly disciplined and
extremely diverse in its cultural and stylistic range. Denishawn toured
worldwide and was the first dance company to tour extensively in
America, bringing the concept of serious dance and an appreciation of
unknown cultures to American audiences. Denishawn students Mar-
tha Graham, Doris Humphrey, and Charles Weidman went on to
become legendary dancer-choreographers. Musical director Louis
Horst led the way in the composition of music for dance, while
Pauline Lawrence became a legendary accompanist, costume design-
er, and dance administrator. These students instructed and inspired
succeeding generations, and in this way, the ‘‘family tree’’ of
Denishawn influenced virtually every American dancer and choreog-
rapher in the twentieth century.
—Brian Granger
F
URTHER READING:
The Drama of Denishawn Dance. Middletown, Connecticut, Wesley-
an University Press, 1979.
Sherman, Jane. Denishawn, The Enduring Influence. Boston, Massa-
chusetts, Twayne Publishers, 1983.
Denver, John (1943-1997)
John Denver, so much a part of 1970s music, always marched to
the beat of his own drummer. At a time when the simplicity of rock ’n’
roll was fading to be replaced with the cynicism of punk rock, Denver
carved out his own niche and became the voice of the recently
disenfranchised folk-singer/idealist who believed in love and hope
and fresh air. With his fly-away blond hair and his signature granny
glasses, Denver had a cross-generational appeal, presenting a
nonthreatening, earnest message of gentle social protest.
John Denver was born Henry John Deutschendorf on December
31, 1943, in Roswell, New Mexico. His entire life was shaped by
trying to measure up to his father, who was a flight instructor for the
Air Force. In his autobiography Take Me Home, Country Roads,
Denver described his life as the eldest son of a family shaped by a
stern father who could never show his love for his children. Denver’s
mother’s family was Scotch-Irish and German Catholic, and it was
they who imbued Denver with a love of music. His maternal grand-
mother gave him his first guitar at the age of seven.
Since Denver’s father was in the military, the family moved
often, making it hard for young John to make friends and fit in with
people his own age. Constantly being the new kid was agony for the
introverted youngster, and he grew up always feeling as if he should