“Why shouldn’t things be largely absurd, futile, and transitory? They are so, and we are so, and they and we go very well together.” — George Santayana, philosopher, essayist, poet, and novelist
Coming home from second grade in Allen Park, Mich., I got into a childish argument with another kid. She made a statement that I couldn’t let go unanswered.
“My dad is tougher than your dad,” she said, “or anybody in this whole school’s dad.” Well. She didn’t know my dad. He was tough. He was strong. He was a World War II vet. His ship had hit a mine, somewhere in
the South Pacific.
My dad exercised regularly. He had a commanding voice and demeanor. He worked in an office, not all that impressive in terms of toughness, but he camped, and boated sometimes courageously in the Detroit River, sharing the water with the big Bob-Lo-Boat or Great Lakes freighters. We had a 14-foot runabout with an Evinrude outboard motor. But my dad wasn’t cowed by those big vessels. He was disciplined. He spoke his mind. He was, most people would agree, a tough man.
Whether he could “beat up” another dad was not important, and would not have ever happened. Critical thinking skills are, as yet, undeveloped that age. Most of the kids thought that their dads were strong and powerful.
The course of the argument between the little girl and I went something like this; She: “My dad’s tougher than your dad.” Me: “No, MY dad is tougher than your dad.” I had a louder voice, perhaps, but
she was very persistent. The argument was unresolved.
Until the next day. On the way home from school, again, with the sidewalks crowded with lots of children, headed home for milk and cookies, that same girl displayed a big, glossy, framed photograph of her father. He was in a wrestling ring, wearing a huge belt. Her dad was Leapin’ Larry Chene.
He was the U.S. Champion Heavyweight Wrestler. He was on TV. He was known for his Flying Scissors Headlocks. He jumped over his opponents in the ring – until he’d catch them with his signature move.
It didn’t look good for Little Basura. The other kids seemed to think that, by virtue of her dad being the U.S. champion, the girl had won the argument. I continued to promote Dad’s invulnerability, as I saw it, but my assertions seemed lame, even to me.
Later he proved his toughness in staying with my mother through years of challenging medical treatment, until her death at age 54. That was real toughness, and real strength, and real love.
Remembering this from more than a few years back, I googled Leapin’ Larry Chene, and found some information, as well as a video of one of his wins, from back, as they say, in the day. I also noticed some comments, including one that says the family is still in the Downriver Detroit area. I don’t know if Townbroadcast is widely read in Southeast Michigan, but I certainly hope so.
Mr. Basura – great story!
Thank you, Free Market Man.
Your dad sounds like the perfect balance between tough and tender. Thanks for this loving piece.
Thank you, Lynn.
Very good tale and tribute.
Thank you, Mike
You’ve got to be friggin’ kidding me! It’s a small world after all.
I grew up in Allen Park, graduated from Southgate Schafer High, and still live in Southgate.
The Chene brothers put up a wrestling ring one summer outside the Tastee Freeze on Allen Road. I am proud to say, as a kid, I was tough enough to get myself pinned to that mat several times that summer.
Thanks, kind sir, for bringing back the memories.
We’re homies. We moved from Allen Park to Trenton during my elementary school. After graduating from THS, I went to GVSC. Between freshman and sophomore year, I went abroad for a couple of years, and then returned to GV as a 21 year old sophomore on the GI Bill.
I think Southgate was home to the first McDonald’s in Michigan, which we frequented when not catching root beer at the A&W outside Elizabeth Park; the park is still beautiful. The remains of my mother and sister are in that cemetery on Sibley near Fort.
I’ve remained in West Michigan since college. You might be interested, Walt, in the odd happenstance that I stumbled up the HBO documentary about Andre The Giant, who wrestled (?) as a professional. I guess that triggered remembering hearing about Leapin’ Larry Chene.
I’m glad you were pinned, but presumably not hurt.
Great man, great story. Thank you sharing it.
Thank you, Bob.
Confused by this story…was Leaping Larry really her father?
I too am confused by this story as must as my sister Patti. Leaping Larry Chene was our father. Being the US wrestling champ, any child would say their father was tougher, any child would think about their father that way anyway. We lost our father in a tragic car accident when we were young, and our mother was left with 6 children. I certainly hope this “story” is not intended as an insult to my father.