Given its location and iconic status, Dodger Stadium is a natural venue for movies and television shows. The climactic baseball game in The Naked Gun was played there (even if it involved the Angels and Mariners). Mr. Ed hit a home run off Sandy Koufax there. Fleetwood Mac filmed the video for “Tusk” there, and Elton John performed epic concerts there in 1975, recreated in the movie Rocketman.
But as a boxing venue, despite being more than 60 years old, Dodger Stadium’s history is limited. And that can be traced back to a fateful night in March 1963 when the ballpark, still gleaming new and symbolic of Los Angeles’s rise as an American metropolis, hosted the one and to date only boxing card in its history.
It was a tragedy.
When Dodger Stadium opened in 1962, it was heralded as the finest in baseball. The stadium contained luxuries now taken for granted. There was an exclusive Stadium Club and dugout-level box seats. Press box accommodations were the most sumptuous in the major leagues, and included showers and a dining area. There were no bleachers; instead what was called “pavilion seating”—general admission seats under the zigzag roof in the outfield. And of course, befitting the city of the car, there were acres of parking, enough for 16,000 vehicles.
The opening of the stadium was also hoped to bring a peaceful end to what had become known as the Battle of Chavez Ravine. The site of the ballpark was named for Julian Chavez, a 19th century Los Angeles supervisor who’d originally bought the land. By the 20th century, it had become a vibrant Mexican-American community.
Following World War II, much of the land was purchased through eminent domain by the city of Los Angeles, with the idea of building public housing. Families were cleared from their homes—sometimes by force. Ultimately, public housing plans were discarded, thanks to a concerted effort by local real estate interests, the right-leaning Los Angeles Times, and numerous others who called the idea of public housing socialism.
The anti-public housing forces marshaled together to get a man named Norris Poulson elected mayor in 1953. Poulson was an unspectacular legislator in Sacramento and Washington, but he swept in on a strong anti-Communist (and thus, anti–public housing) wave.