HIGH POINT CONFIDENTIAL: High Pointer boxed against heavyweight champ Joe Louis

May 9—HIGH POINT — During World War II, American military personnel performed enough acts of bravery to fill a library, but what High Point native Harry Welch did during the war required a special kind of bravery.

Or a special kind of insanity.

In August 1944, when Welch was stationed in North Africa as a Navy chief specialist, he volunteered — or was volunteered — to climb into a boxing ring and go a couple rounds with Joe Louis, the reigning world heavyweight champion and, by all accounts, one of the greatest boxers of all time. The Brown Bomber, as Louis was known, had a left jab so devastating it could kill a man who didn't have much experience in the ring.

A man like Harry Welch.

Consider the tale of the tape. Louis, who had won the heavyweight title seven years earlier and hadn't lost a fight since, stood 6-foot-2, weighed just over 200 pounds, and was built like a granite wall. His reach was listed at 76 inches.

Meanwhile, Welch was about 6 feet tall, weighed 170 pounds and, compared to Louis, had the reach of a Tyrannosaurus rex. He was pretty fit, but his body was surely more gristle than granite.

It's worth mentioning that Welch had wrestled at High Point High School (class of 1936), but it was in the 95-pound weight class. Joe Louis probably ate that much for breakfast every morning.

Welch wanted to play football in high school, too, but he didn't make the team. Amazingly, though — after a growth spurt during his senior year — he somehow made the team at Duke University and played with the legendary "Iron Dukes" squad that competed in the 1939 Rose Bowl.

In the service, Welch had participated in a program teaching servicemen, mostly Navy pilots, hand-to-hand combat. That may have given him an additional boost of confidence to step in the ring with the champ.

Regardless, when a commander announced that Louis was coming to North Africa as part of an exhibition tour aimed at boosting soldiers' morale — and that a "volunteer" was needed to go a couple of rounds with the Brown Bomber — the commander chose Welch.

"Sure, I'll fight the bum," Welch said sarcastically. "What do we use for weapons — pillows or pies?"

In the back of his mind, Welch knew he had a 15-day leave coming up, and he figured he'd be gone when Louis showed up, and some other poor chump would have to fight him instead. When Welch got back from R&R, though, he learned Louis had been delayed and would be arriving the very next day — what perfect timing!

"There I was in a hell of a shape," Welch would later tell a sportswriter, explaining how he'd done nothing physical during his leave. "I was never in worse condition."

As promised, Louis showed up the next day, and Welch was stuck. As he stood in one corner of the ring, waiting for Armageddon, a member of the champ's entourage walked over and assured Welch this was just an exhibition and Louis would go easy on him.

"You say that," Welch replied, "but does Joe know about this? Man, I didn't come to North Africa to get killed this way."

Sure enough, though, Louis held back against his much smaller opponent. After all, killing a fellow soldier wouldn't have done much to boost the troops' morale, now would it?

During Welch's interview with the aforementioned sportswriter, he boasted that he had landed a couple of decent blows to the champ's nose.

"Every time he hit me with that right, though," Welch continued, "I thought I could hear the chapel bells ring at Duke."

Welch died in 2006, but his son — Harry Welch Jr., of Salisbury — heard the story of his dad's short-lived boxing career many times.

"Dad said he had heard about a couple of guys before him who actually tried to knock the champ out, and they paid dearly for that," Welch says. "So he just went in there to put on a show. They exchanged a few punches, but Dad said he didn't want to make the champ mad, so he mostly just kept his hands up so he wouldn't get hit if he could help it."

Afterward, Louis told his opponent, "You should be a light heavyweight," but Welch quickly replied, "Nah, this is the only fighting I ever want to do."

And he never fought again, ending his career after one fight: No wins, no losses, and no knockouts.

But one knockout story to tell the folks when he got back home.

jtomlin@hpenews.com — 336-888-3579