Who Killed Davey Browne? Widow Amy Lavelle's Story Brings to Mind Early Dylan Song

In recent years there has been quite a bit of controversy regarding NFL player safety and head trauma. Boxing's checkered history has produced similar discussions, which Bob Dylan addressed in an iconic song titled "Who Killed Davey Moore?"

Davey Moore was a champion featherweight boxer who died after a fight with an upcoming Cuban boxer named Sugar Ramos in March, 1963. The incident triggered debates about the morality of boxing. Like Dylan, Phil Ochs had also written a song about the incident.

This fall I was introduced to Amy Lavelle whose husband lost his life inside the ring while fighting for a championship title. Surprisingly his name was Davey also, with a one syllable last name. Who killed Davey Browne? 

Davey Browne, wife Amy and sons.

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Amy Lavelle was born in Bathurst, Australia in New South Wales. She met Davey while she was on a girls weekend in Melbourne. Davey, who happened to be on a boys weekend in Melbourne, met Amy in a bar and they hit it off. 

Davey Browne as doting father.

Davey had won the Youth world title belt when he was 22, but quit boxing for a period of time. After Davey and Amy were married he began training again in 2013 and got back into the ring. On September 11, 2015, while fighting for the IBC Pan Pacific super featherweight title, Browne took a devastating 11th round blow that caused a serious concussion. Video footage shows clearly that the fight should have been stopped. Unfortunately he was ahead in points, so no one wanted to interfere because if he simply stayed on his feet in the 12th he would win. Unable to defend himself, he was  mercilessly pummeled by his opponent who needed a knockout to win. 

Stephanie Convery, in a Guardian article titled "The avoidable death of Davey Browne: how an inquest exposed boxing's failures," wrote, "Boxing is inherently dangerous and requires a lot of trust from participants: trust in their trainers and managers to be able to properly assess whether they are adequately prepared for a fight and still performing at optimum during it; trust in the referee, inspectors and the ringside doctor to intervene if their safety is at risk. The outcome of the inquest into Browne’s death highlights a number of betrayals of that trust."

Browne died within days, on 15 September, 2015, leaving two children without a father, his wife a widow.

EN: Did you ever go see boxing matches before meeting Davey?

Amy Lavelle: I did not see them live, no. I followed some of the bigger matches that were well known and promoted in mainstream media but more in the background.

EN: What was your first impression of the sport?

AL: I certainly was intrigued by the sport. There was something appealing about the discipline required to be a professional boxer and the physical effects of the training, the elite fitness that could be attained. I appreciate the skills and mindset required beyond the physical action of it. It is glorified and, like many sports, only a small percentage actually get to the elite level and "make it." It's tough and only few have what it takes because it is inherently dangerous. 

EN: Ron Jackson wrote in Boxing Magazine, “After the death of a fighter there will always be calls to ban boxing.”  But you responded differently. Why?

AL: Because there are conditions and rules stipulated under which officials are supposed to stop a fight. Even if none of them want to, it's their role and it is supposed to happen. There is a requirement for a ringside doctor. He is not there just in case, he has an active role in monitoring the fight. Otherwise when fighters are getting injured and the fight goes on, it's like a street brawl and that's not the sport of boxing as I see it. It is a sport with rules and can be great if it is conducted properly. 

In the fights leading up to David's last one, 2 or 3 of them (which he won) were stopped by the referee and the losing opponent walked out of the ring and woke up ok the next day. It was clear David dominated and a TKO was called before David punched them so much that they were unnecessarily injured. This discernment was not exercised at David's fight.

Now, I understand that a freak punch can happen. A single punch to the head can cause unforeseen injury, even kill, and it's part of the risk of the sport. That I accept. But when a fighter is showing clear signs of concussion, does not know where he is, bounces off the ropes, is knocked to the ground, gets up unbalanced and needs help getting to and from his corner when the bell goes, that is when a fight needs to be stopped. To me that is no longer boxing.

EN: Stephanie Convery, in her book After the Count (which is about Davey’s death), stated that in 23 years and 2000 fights the ringside doctor never stopped a fight. Until I watched the 60 Minutes segment, I didn’t realize how many people had the power to stop a fight. What went wrong? And will it ever change?

AL: Davey was supposed to win the fight. It wasn't his night, he needed it to be stopped. He lost his own sense of what was going on because he suffered a head injury prior to being knocked out. Everyone was just going through the motions instead of attentively calculating what was actually happening. Maybe no one believed how hurt he was getting, or they just never thought it was going to be the worst case scenario. But I know he was not ok. 

I sat back and thought there is no way he will go out for that last round, he is too hurt. The officials were simply incompetent and it was a "professional" fight organized and run in an unsophisticated and disorganized way. They expected Davey to come out like he had done for his previous fights and dominate. But he didn't, and there was no safety net for him. There should have been. But I think that is part of the boxing culture in Australia in that sub-elite category. Until you make the big time with the big money it's, evidently, not safe if you aren't on top of your game, every fight.

EN: Just out of curiosity, do wives of boxers ever get together and talk about boxing? If yes, what are some of the things they might talk about (with regard to their husband’s choice of careers)

AL: I didn't really discuss boxing much with other wives ("WAGS"?). I was close to my sister-in-law at the time (David's brothers' wife) and the most we talked about was the training and lifestyle of boxing I guess. Maybe some politics of it and frustrations. The usual stuff, not exclusive to boxing I'm sure.

EN: Thank you, Amy, for sharing your story. Wishing you the best as you continue to re-build a home for your growing sons.  

Related Links

"Who Killed Davey Moore?" Bob Dylan, Live at Carnegie Hall, 1963

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LY31HqK135Q

Bob Dylan, Live at Newport 
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=us_yCFnP95I

60 Minutes Australia: Death of a Champ (warning: includes disturbing fight footage)

Photos courtesy Amy Lavelle

The Chemistry of Photography: A Father's Day Tribute

Scarlet tanager, photo by John Heino

My first experiences with a camera must have been when I was in Cub Scouts because I remember taking double exposure photos of my brother boxing with himself against the wall of our basement in Maple Heights. After we moved to New Jersey my father helped me set up a darkroom with chemicals and trays, a red light and an exposure lamp. I must have been in seventh grade when I went through this stage, and for a spell it was quite exciting, taking photos and doing all that darkroom magic.

I share all this because although I knew my father had been a chemist, primarily working in the development of latex paints, polymers and adhesives, I was unaware till this spring of his college term paper titled The Chemistry of Photography.

It begins, "The science of photograph is becoming increasingly essential in the modern world of today, yet relatively few people are acquainted with this history of, the chemistry of, or the uses of photographic art."

The paper then details the various discoveries related to how light interacts with certain materials to produce images. Johann Schulze was the first to record the observation that light, and not atmospheric conditions, was what caused silver chloride to darken. The chemists of the day found ways to produce an image but had not discovered a way to "fix" the image so you had something permanent. This would not occur till the 1800s.

My dad when young and in school.

It was Joseph Niepce who found a way to create a permanent image, with one drawback. The exposure time required was six to ten hours. (You can imagine the scene: "O.K., when I count to three say, 'Cheese.' Now hold it, don't move till I get back from Paris later this afternoon.")

Eventually Niepce hooked up with Jacques Daguerre who was also working on the problem of light sensitive materials. In 1939 Daguerre announced his process for making permanent images, which he called Daguerreotypes. That process involved copper sheets plated with silver that were highly polished and exposed to iodine vapors, which turned the surface a golden yellow.

This prep took five to 30 minutes, but had to be exposed immediately for five to 12 minutes. After exposure to light the plate was placed into another closed box where it was now exposed to mercury heated to 167 degrees Fahrenheit. Next it was washed with hypo and then distilled water.

You can see why this didn't catch on as all that popular with the masses.

Two years later paper negatives were developed by Williamd Fox-Talbert. Easier to process but not as sharp of detail in the images, so a step forward and step back at the same time.

In 1850 a process involving glass plates covered with milk and albumen was patented. Albumen is egg white, so you have to wonder how these guys came up with all this  stuff.

At the same time the use of collodion was suggested, and after a year of experimentation this process was perfected. It was known as the wet-collodion process, utilizing iodized or bromized collodion which forms, after the solvents have evaporated, into a thin, easily damaged film. On immersion in a silver nitrate bath, light sensitive iodide and bromide of silver are formed. The plate should be exposed while still moist and developed immediately.

Studio photography was reasonable to accomplish, but if you wanted to capture landscapes, all this gear was somewhat cumbersome. In short, there was great pressure on the chemists of the day to improve all these things.

What followed were Ferrotypes which produced negative images. In 1884 this guy named George Eastman secured a patent for a stripping film which was a temporary paper coated with soluble gelatin that was then coated with gelatin bromide emulsion. After developing and fixing, the image was stripped from the supporting paper and dried, hence the name stripping film.

As film sensitivity increased, exposure times decreased. In 1851 the average exposure time was 2160 times faster than in 1826. And by the 20th century it was 10,000 times as fast as in 1851, something akin to Moore's Law in the digital chip realm in our computer age.

The quest for speed and detail consumed many decades, but there was still the hurdle of color that was sought after. In the early 1900s the Autochrome process was invented, but it wasn't until the 1930s and Kodachrome that color photography and slides took off.

How brief the reign of film photography proved to be. Just over two decades later the first digital image was produced. It would be decades later before digital eclipsed film, and when it happened it happened quickly.

1973, Fairchild Semiconductor produces the first image-capturing chip.
1986, Kodak scientists offer up the world's first megapixel sensor.

The late Lee Newman

None of these latter developments were covered in my father's 1949 paper, nor were the anticipated. Whereas all previous advances had been linear explorations involving chemistry, the digital phenomenon was altogether outside the box. Silver halide, developers, sodium thiosulfates, fixatives, ammonia and emulsions all became a thing of the past.

His term paper concludes with one of the modern applications of photography: advertising. He then cites the Chinese proverb, "A picture is worth ten thousand word." Indeed!

My father became a career chemist. His first-born son eventually grew to pursue a career in advertising, ever in search of the best images to accompany content crafted to connect with readers.

Dad got an A on his paper, with the instructor's comment scribbled beneath it in ballpoint pen. "Very interesting paper." It's my hope that you've also found this abbreviated summary interesting as well.

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This has been a Father's Day tribute to an important man, Leon E. Newman