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pugilistic career. It
had given him fame
and fortune and had
made him the envy of
African-Americans of
the city and he was their
rst role model. Now
he was being asked to
leave. He headed west
to California, taking
ghts along the way to
earn more cash.
It is said that this era
marked the end of the
Black Pearl. Tough
he still possessed his boxing talents, he often lacked his
resources when stepping into the ring, as his nightlife
robbed him of his energy, and he rarely trained.
Martin would lose his Colored middleweight
championship by KO to Ed Binney in November 1891, after
25 brutal rounds. He then was kayoed again by the noted
Charles Turner in 19 rounds, followed by a third consecutive
nap, this time from Hank Gri n. By now, the Pearl was
struggling to nd his way. His three losses, coupled with his
partying ways, had raped him prematurely of his skills.
After taking a few inconsequential ghts in 1892, he
then fought Joe King in 36 hellish rounds before being
knocked out. Amazingly, he agreed to ght the infamous
colored lightweight champion of California, Bobby Dobbs,
in January 1893. He showed well, but eventually succumbed
to Dobbs in the 18
th
round. If the Black Pearl had anything
left in his ght with Dobbs, it is safe to say that it was beaten
out of him that day. Although he fought 20 rounds to a draw
with Jack Ramsey in March 1894, his skills had by then
signicantly eroded. Harris Martin, once a man of means,
was now trying to eek out a living.
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His remaining ghts were nothing more than paydays,
as few people gave him any chance of beating Young Peter
Jackson and he was stopped in the rst round. After his
career was nally over in 1900, the Pearl drifted north
where his brother William was living in Seattle. Living
with William for several years and working in the same
professions in which he had started o; shining shoes by day,
and waiting tables by night. Hoping to better his nancial
standings by capitalizing on his name in the state that knew
him best, he left Seattle for Minnesota. Since he was banned
for life from ever setting foot in his beloved Minneapolis,
Martin made Saint Paul his new home. He quickly picked
up work bartending at his old friend Phil Reeds saloon. By
this time, George Harris Martin was a much dierent man
than Minnesota had last seen and remembered. Gone was
his wealth, and with it, his upper-class swagger. He was
still a celebrity, though one clearly grounded by the reality
that his luck had come full circle. His charm, charisma,
and infamous smile were all traits that were still very much
intact, and his striking good looks were said to still have
attracted the attention of ner women of the Saintly City. In
short, Martin was once again, a king; his currency being the
daily compliments paid by fans of years past. He not only
enjoyed his re-found fame, he lived o of it. He was once
again, the Black Pearl. Still just 38 years old and said to be
thinking of starting his own saloon, the Pearl left work at
Reeds saloon for his apartment that he shared with friend
Henry Shaw when eyewitnesses said his eyes got wide just
as stepped on the curb of the St. Peter sidewalk. He then
clutched his wide-barreled dark chest and immediately
collapsed to the ground; something that had only happened
a handful of times in his long and illustrious career. People
rushed to his side in eorts to help him but it was no use. He
was dead in a matter of seconds, having suered a massive
heart attack.
Never before in the history of the state of Minnesota
had the death of a black man made the front page of the
newspapers. Yet, fans and friends, both black and white,
mourned his death as if he had been family. It was almost
remarkable, with more than 1,000 people reportedly
viewing his lifeless body at the wake, with an equal amount
of whites mourning alongside the African-American
population. More than 50 carriages followed his body to
Forest Cemetery in present day Maplewood, MN, to pay
their nal respects, and many mourners gave heartfelt
speeches.
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Today the Black Pearl is a name long forgotten. His
record at the time of his death was reported to have been
more than 100 wins with only 10 losses, and continues to
be discovered and documented. Until 2009, his nal resting
place was even a small-time boxing world mystery, as Forest
Cemetery (now Forest Lawn Cemetery) had claimed that
he was never interred there at all. Tis led many boxing
historians to seek out his grave like a modern era Holy Grail.
Im proud to report that this writer is the one who discovered
the remains of the
Black Pearl, interred
under years of grass
and earth, buried
all along in the very
cemetery that claimed
never to have had
him at all. Finding
his name etched onto
the 109-year-old slab
of concrete was akin
to nding a long lost
treasure. It turns out
that the denial of
having his remains was
a clerical issue, having entered his name into their 1903
interment logbooks incorrectly, thus burying all evidence
of his existence there. On Dec. 7, 2009, buried treasure was
indeed found in the frozen earth of Minnesota; 155 pounds
of Black Pearl to be exact, and with it, the tale of one of the
19
th
Centurys most talented black ghters sails again.
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