Among the many exciting experiences I had during my tours in various parts of the world as a referee or judge of important international boxing matches, two stand out—my encounter with gunmen in Caracas, Venezuela, and in San Juan, Puerto Rico. In April, 1939, I was on a Central American tour and while in Puerto Rico, I was asked to officiate in the world bantamweight championship match between Sixto Escobar and Kayo Morgan. The bout was staged under conditions such as I never again encountered. At the time there was considerable dissension among the natives regarding American rule. The Nationalist Party on several occasions tried to assassinate the leading legislators and had gone so far as to incite insurrections in Ponce where a number of persons, including the chief of police, were killed. Four of the leaders were sentenced to the Atlanta Penitentiary for long terms by the U.S. Government. Governor Winship, an ardent boxing fan, had returned on the day of the fight from Washington, where he held a conference with President Roosevelt on the Island’s unrest. Four boxes were reserved for him and his party at the Stadium and unusual protection was arranged by Police Chief Orbeta because of reports that an attempt would be made on the Governor’s life. The bout was delayed for almost an hour due to the late arrival of the guests of honor, and then, amid wild cheers from an overflow gathering, the contest got under way. Seven rounds had been completed when a terrific downpour drenched us. The tropical storm caused a stampede among the thousands of spectators who sought shelter. Like all such torrential rains, the storm lasted only a short time but was sufficient to give those seeking the lives of the Governor and members of his cabinet a chance to carry out their work. Within minutes after the cloudburst, the arena and an area within a mile or more surrounding the stadium, were in total darkness. The electric wires had been cut and during the blackout, while spectators were being drenched, shots were fired. There was a flash from the top of one of the walls surrounding the arena. The Secret Service guards immediately crowded around Governor Winship and his party and a speedy exit was made under heavy guard with torchlights guiding the way. Many persons took refuge under the ring and hundreds crowded around it. The fighters, managers Harry Baxter and Lou Brix, and I, couldn’t get out of the ring. For almost three quarters of an hour we remained in total darkness wondering what was in store for us. While the commotion continued, mobsters broke down the gates of the stadium, and a mad rush was made towards the ring. The bleachers were bulging from the sides, and the grandstand and ringside seats were full to the limit when the fight had started. When the rain stopped and the bout was resumed, fist fights added to the confusion, as those who had paid ten dollars for their seats battled with the hoodlums who had rushed the gates.