Mel Hammond was a little guy who left an impression on Minnesota boxing just the same. He was a little man with a wallop, knocking out or stopping ten of the twenty-three opponents he faced.
A featherweight, Hammond was an impressive fighter at a time when some of the best lower- weight boxers in state history were active, Glen Flanagan and Jackie Graves among them.
Nonetheless, Hammond kept pace and performed at a level that was a niche below that of the very best but good enough that
he could occasionally intrude into that higher realm as he did with a draw against Flanagan, only to lose on points in the rematch.
Hammond was described in various accounts of his style as flashy, slick and impressive.
A featherweight throughout his career, he stood a mere 5 feet, four and one-half inches but made up for what he lacked in stature with quick hands and feet that enabled him to strike quickly and retreat the same way.
Hammond fought no better fighter than Flanagan, a Hall of Fame fighter on state and world levels. They met for the first time on July 8 1948 at the St. Paul Auditorium and fought to a draw. In the rematch two months later, once again at the Auditorium, Hammond lost by unanimous decision.
In June of 1949, Hammond fought another impressive figure, Miguel Acevedo, a Cuban fighter who retired with a 52-20-6 record
after fighting against such prominent boxers as Sandy Saddler, Willie Pep and Kid Gavilan. Acevedo also split two fights with Minnesota Hall of Fame fighter Jackie Graves, winning the first fight by knockout and losing the second the same way. The fight with Hammond was at the Minneapolis Auditorium and Acevedo scored a unanimous decision.
Hammond fought seven years professionally, from June of 1947 until November of 1954, although that time frame was increased at
the end by a questionable decision. He began his career on June 13, 1947 with a four-round decision over Paul Martinez, at the Minneapolis Auditorium.
He stopped Tommy Baker in the fourth round of a six-round fight on July 24, 1950 in Austin, Minnesota, and did not fight again until November 18, 1954 in Omaha, when he was stopped by Russell Tague, a fighter with an impressive 33-3-3 record at the time. That was a fight Hammond could have done without, particularly after a four-year layoff, and he wisely did not fight again.
Mel was done fighting by the time his son Luther came of age and did not speak much about his boxing career, yet Luther did pick up bits and pieces after finding old newspaper clippings.
He also recalls attending a fight card with his dad at the Minneapolis Convention Center.
“I glanced at my dad during one of the bouts and it was like he was back in the ring,’’ Luther said. “It was just the beginning stages of his dementia, but there he was, like he was in the ring, bobbing and weaving while he was sitting in his chair.’’
Virginia Hammond was originally an Iowa woman who came north to visit a friend at one time . They had gone to the First Church of God
in Christ in North Minneapolis, where Mel had become a deacon after retiring from boxing.
“Hehadjustbeensaved,’’Virginiarecalled. She spotted Mel almost immediately upon arriving at the church. “Who on earth is that ugly man over there,’’she said to her friend.
A short time later she and Mel were married. “And it wasn’t no shotgun wedding, either, Virginia said . “He was just in a hurry to marry me.’’
Mel Hammond was father to seven: Reggie, Melanie, Inez, Gail, Stacy, Cory and Luther.
Sometime in the middle 1970s, he opened a barbecue restaurant on south Lyndale Avenue: The House of Ribs (Best Ribs Since Adam). Among the celebrities they counted as customers at one time or another were Sammy Davis, Jr., comedian/singer/actor Timmie Rodgers and Vikings Hall of Fame defensive end Carl Eller.
“The restaurant opened up at 5 p.m., so my father would be coming home in the morning and sleeping when I was headed to school,’’ Luther said.
That routine provided Luther with his only boxing instructions from his father. “Dad came home a little sauced up one time and wanted to teach me some moves,’’ he recalled. “I hit him with a right cross and knocked him down. He got up and hit me with a right cross and knocked me off my feet.’’
Which is exactly what Hammond did to a number of fighters in the ring during a career impressive enough to have earned a place in Minnesota’s Boxing Hall of Fame.
