The old fighter has gone down for the last count.
Tommy Harrison, a homeless ex-boxer known on the streets of Santa Ana as “Champ” and the subject of a Pulitzer Prize-finalist story and subsequent theatrical movie, died late last month at the age of 85.
Harrison’s colorful past was clouded by a conviction for a lewd act involving a minor, something he denied happened, and his use of another, more-accomplished, boxer’s name. But none of that dimmed the affection afforded him by locals in the southwest Santa Ana neighborhood that he frequented, including that of police, who at times tried to help him get off the streets.
“I know that Santa Ana, the community as a whole, really looked out for him,” said his daughter, Arnetha Booth, one of three surviving children from Harrison’s brood of five.
A celebration of life open to the public will take place on Saturday from 1 to 3 p.m. at Southwest Community Center, where he often ate and regaled others with stories from his boxing days in the 1950s.
Booth said her father died peacefully in his sleep at a San Bernardino nursing home on April 14. He had been bedridden the past few years, unable to walk and suffering from lung disease. Harrison, who had a drinking problem, also had been diagnosed with dementia more than 10 years ago.
The last time Booth saw him was just days before he died. Harrison still recognized her but it was clear his health was in serious decline.
“I knew time was short but I didn’t know how soon,” Booth said, recalling how her father spent that afternoon listening to Gospel music, curled up in his bed.
“He had said he was going home, to his spiritual home.”
Tommy Harrison, a homeless ex-boxer known on the streets of Santa Ana as “Champ” and the subject of a Pulitzer Prize-finalist story and subsequent theatrical movie, died late last month at the age of 85.
Harrison’s colorful past was clouded by a conviction for a lewd act involving a minor, something he denied happened, and his use of another, more-accomplished, boxer’s name. But none of that dimmed the affection afforded him by locals in the southwest Santa Ana neighborhood that he frequented, including that of police, who at times tried to help him get off the streets.
“I know that Santa Ana, the community as a whole, really looked out for him,” said his daughter, Arnetha Booth, one of three surviving children from Harrison’s brood of five.
A celebration of life open to the public will take place on Saturday from 1 to 3 p.m. at Southwest Community Center, where he often ate and regaled others with stories from his boxing days in the 1950s.
Booth said her father died peacefully in his sleep at a San Bernardino nursing home on April 14. He had been bedridden the past few years, unable to walk and suffering from lung disease. Harrison, who had a drinking problem, also had been diagnosed with dementia more than 10 years ago.
The last time Booth saw him was just days before he died. Harrison still recognized her but it was clear his health was in serious decline.
“I knew time was short but I didn’t know how soon,” Booth said, recalling how her father spent that afternoon listening to Gospel music, curled up in his bed.
“He had said he was going home, to his spiritual home.”
The old fighter has gone down for the last count.
Tommy Harrison, a homeless ex-boxer known on the streets of Santa Ana as “Champ” and the subject of a Pulitzer Prize-finalist story and subsequent theatrical movie, died late last month at the age of 85.
Harrison’s colorful past was clouded by a conviction for a lewd act involving a minor, something he denied happened, and his use of another, more-accomplished, boxer’s name. But none of that dimmed the affection afforded him by locals in the southwest Santa Ana neighborhood that he frequented, including that of police, who at times tried to help him get off the streets.
“I know that Santa Ana, the community as a whole, really looked out for him,” said his daughter, Arnetha Booth, one of three surviving children from Harrison’s brood of five.
A celebration of life open to the public will take place on Saturday from 1 to 3 p.m. at Southwest Community Center, where he often ate and regaled others with stories from his boxing days in the 1950s.
Booth said her father died peacefully in his sleep at a San Bernardino nursing home on April 14. He had been bedridden the past few years, unable to walk and suffering from lung disease. Harrison, who had a drinking problem, also had been diagnosed with dementia more than 10 years ago.
The last time Booth saw him was just days before he died. Harrison still recognized her but it was clear his health was in serious decline.
“I knew time was short but I didn’t know how soon,” Booth said, recalling how her father spent that afternoon listening to Gospel music, curled up in his bed.
“He had said he was going home, to his spiritual home.”
Tommy Harrison, a homeless ex-boxer known on the streets of Santa Ana as “Champ” and the subject of a Pulitzer Prize-finalist story and subsequent theatrical movie, died late last month at the age of 85.
Harrison’s colorful past was clouded by a conviction for a lewd act involving a minor, something he denied happened, and his use of another, more-accomplished, boxer’s name. But none of that dimmed the affection afforded him by locals in the southwest Santa Ana neighborhood that he frequented, including that of police, who at times tried to help him get off the streets.
“I know that Santa Ana, the community as a whole, really looked out for him,” said his daughter, Arnetha Booth, one of three surviving children from Harrison’s brood of five.
A celebration of life open to the public will take place on Saturday from 1 to 3 p.m. at Southwest Community Center, where he often ate and regaled others with stories from his boxing days in the 1950s.
Booth said her father died peacefully in his sleep at a San Bernardino nursing home on April 14. He had been bedridden the past few years, unable to walk and suffering from lung disease. Harrison, who had a drinking problem, also had been diagnosed with dementia more than 10 years ago.
The last time Booth saw him was just days before he died. Harrison still recognized her but it was clear his health was in serious decline.
“I knew time was short but I didn’t know how soon,” Booth said, recalling how her father spent that afternoon listening to Gospel music, curled up in his bed.
“He had said he was going home, to his spiritual home.”
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