Foreword by Dwight
This section takes place from the viewpoint of the famous caricaturist, Kate Carew or her real name Mary Williams. She seemed to be part of a strange inter circle of people that Roosevelt kept in his presence. Carew goes on to describe her perception of Professor "Mike" Donovan.
The Roosevelt That I know Part 3
I can't give any better story of my acquaintance with Mr. Roosevelt, and my own life, than that given in the World by Miss Kate Carew:
A commanding figure looms over the national horizon. A formidable figure, forsooth-the figure of Professor Mike Donovan, the savant of self-defense. Through the ruck of news, warlike and peaceful, from the seats of the mighty came on Friday the momentous intelligence that the President of the United States had need of Prof. Donovan. Letter were told of missives traced by the Presidental pen, wherein the learned professor was bidden to repair to Washington after the holidays and apply himself to the congenial task of being punched by the Chief Executive of the nation, and in the meantime to recommend a local savant worthy of the minor honor of being punched by the Chief Executive's progeny.
Hence this hurried narrative of a seance with Prof. Donovan. Not easily was it engineered, for the professor is as modest as he is learned, and he was greatly distressed at the news of the Presidential command having become public through the indiscretion of a friend in such a way as to cast upon him, as he feared, the odium of having boasted of the Presidential friendship. But let it be proclaimed at once that Professor Donovan is incapable-except perhaps in the exercise of his important art of doing anything to anger any right minded person.
Altogether, there were six of us present, but only four really counted- the professor, the scientist, Capt. Jack Crawford and I. The two that didn't count were the Boy and the Chaperon.
Take my word for it, it would do any man good to associate with Professor Donovan. He is as wholesome as a big red apple. I never envied the President of the United States before, but I do now, because he can send for his old "Mike" and have him come. Everybody calls him "Mike" myself, and I don't think he'd mind, and perhaps some day but so far I've only met him once.
Professor Donovan its unnaturally formal, but I can't help it- Professor Donovan, then, is bald and snowy and russet cheeked and as spry as a kitten. His shoulders broad, of course and his figure is all that doth become a man and an athlete, and his hands are large and knotty. One of them misshapen from an injury in a fight. But whereas shoulders and shape and fists are the most important things about the ordinary pugilist, the most important thing about Professor "Mike" is his face.
Such a fine old face Professor "Mike" has! You might search through many colleges of more esoteric learning than his without finding another professor with such a fine old face. It's as kind of face as you've ever seen and as simple and as childlike , and yet in a subtle way its the face of a fighter, too. It's the face of the fighter who fights without a spark of malice-who can fight a man and love him and be loved by him. and that's the sort of many Professor "Mike" is. The business of fighting is has given him some mannerisms - a curiously alert way of cocking his head to one side, a flashing glance up form under his eyebrows, a certain swing of the body and a dancing quickness in the gestures of his hands-but socially he is the gentlest of men, full of quaint humor and quick sympathy and very courtly to the other sex. Nor is the other sex unreciprocal. It is easy to picture Professor "Mike" the petted center of a circle of duchesses.
I asked him how old he was, and the Scientist interjected: "Whatever Mike tells you, add twenty years to it." Whereupon the Professor and the Scientist had a verbal sparring match replete with jovial banter and appertaining chiefly to a silver championship belt of Professor "Mike's," which the Scientist insists upon regarding as the champion liar's belt, at the same time admitting that not til he himself is dead will the Professor be entitled to wear it. However, the squabble ended in a definite statement on the part of the Professor that he is fifty-eight, and has been boxing for 39 years, and his blue eyes danced with pride as he said it. Did I mention that his eyes are blue? They are very blue, indeed. I wished to know how happened to become a boxer.
"Why I was born for it!" he exclaimed. "Just as soon as I was old enough to put up my hands I couldn't help putting 'em up" and up went the hands in that dancing gesture I have spoken of.
Musings
I thoroughly enjoyed this aspect from Kate Carew's perspective. It shows what a humble, kind and calm person that Professor Donovan was. It should be every martial artist's ambition to include these type of characteristics into their own philosophy, their own journey. I consider these aspects truly as a benefit of doing martial arts the right way. I am not saying that sport martial arts are bad, but there are some areas where it feels like it is almost mandatory to cause a stir to make the fights more profitable.
References:
Donovan, Michael Joseph. The Roosevelt That I Know; Ten Years of Boxing with the President--and Other Memories of Famous Fighting Men,. New York: B.W. Dodge, 1909. https://books.google.com/books?hl=en&lr=&id=x7QaAAAAYAAJ&oi=fnd&pg=PA8&dq=boxing&ots=MYv8NVrKwf&sig=N21fmrbbSTU8P3S0scqcxphbg9M
No comments:
Post a Comment