He was always a champion to me!

His name was Gus. He was a popular boxer in the early 1900s. And, he was my Father. His life story would have made a movie.

The information being used here I have taken from newspaper reports, and sport columns of the day. My Uncle Deak was a big fan and furnished me with many stories.

Dad was born in a suburb of Berlin, Germany. As a young man he was a blacksmith's apprentice. John L. Sullivan was Dad's idol and decided to follow Sullivan to America to seek fame and fortune, he found both.

Life was different back then. It was the early 1900s, there was no income tax. High Society was on a whirlwind of fun, frolic, and foolishness. Boxers became matinee idols.

They made appearances on the stages of New York's finest theatres. They were guests at the lavish parties of the wealthy. Most had a broker, a bootlegger, and bragged about both.

Dad's career as a fighter was soaring. On Sept. 17, 1902, he fought Joe Gans for the world's championship. He lost to Gans by a knockout. Later, Dad took the Australian welterweight championship from Jack Watson in the 29th round.

Back in the U.S., according to now-yellowed newspaper clippings, Dad was being called the “'uncrowned champion.” Dad was soon moving in a circle of celebrities he met, and befriended stars such as Eddie Cantor, Al Jolson, Milton Sills, Mary Pickford, and Pearl White.

On a trip to Detroit, Dad spotted a beauty playing the piano in a popular night club. He arranged to meet her and in due time, wedding bells. Her name was Lenore Hathaway, the daughter of an Ohio farmer.

She became my Mother. I was born in Norfolk, Va. Six weeks later, Mother, Dad, and me, moved into an apartment hotel in New York City. It was then the whirlwind life began!

It was champagne on a High Society merry-go-round. Music and song throughout the night. New York became a giant playground. Prime steaks, and $500 a bottle wine. Nightclubs, horse racing and boxing matches. Dad bought a Stanley Steamer and hired a chauffer, then bought Mother a Stutz Bearcat. He also hired an ''Aunt Jemima,'' look-alike to take care of me. She became known as, Mammy.

One day, deep into the wild festivities, Dad was informed he had been contracted to fight in Ireland, England, and Australia. It was decided it would be best to drop me off at Granddad’s farm until the tour was over, then they would pick me up. Somehow that never came about. So, at the age of three I became a farm boy.

The next time I saw my Dad I was 33. We made rare contact after that. Years passed and the day came I placed him in a Florida nursing home. He died on May 12, 1965, at the age of 88. We missed a lot, but I know he loved me because he told me so. ''Happy Father's Day,'' Dad �“ to me, you were always a champion!

Anyhow, that's the way I heard it.

(E-mail Gardiner at redbird1@cox.net.)