The Real Mike Hammer

By Jack Stang Jr.

The reader should know that Jack Stang was my father and I have chosen to tell this story in his voice. He was an extraordinary man and I have tried to tell his story in an unbiased manner. He was not perfect as no one is, but he was truly a man of his time.

• Language: English
• Publisher: BookBaby
• Release date: Jan 13, 2012
• ISBN: 9781620950241

Book preview

9781620950241

Chapter One

December 1947

It is a cold – wet – sleeting night in December on the New York waterfront. Everything around me is black and white and gray.

The offices and department stores are dark and closed and the only light is coming from the night lights dimly lit in the buildings.

As I walk forward, I lean into the wind, coat collar pulled up, hat down, to keep this freezing rain off my face. My shoes are soaked through from the rain and slush on the sidewalk and with every breath I take; my lungs are filled with a heavy sooty smell. I can hear the waves from the Hudson River slapping against the docks and bulkheads and a distant horn from the ferry as it crosses the river on my left side and the rattling of the train wheels on the tracks from the LI RR on my right.

This is all so foreign to me what the hell am I doing in this miserable place?

Two days ago, I was home in San Diego – sunshine, warm, bright, a happy and wonderful place, alive like a vacation postcard – and now just a memory in my head.

The war has been over for 2 years– it is Dec, 1947, the boys are back trying to put their lives back together, get jobs, start a normal life again. I finished school in June and tried to get my first newspaper job for months. I’ve searched every paper in the country – nothing- then a response from this small paper in New York – a hope – a job – finally! The position was cub reporter at the city desk – wow – a chance to make my mark.

I arrived here two days ago with so much optimism and enthusiasm and yet at this moment I am questioning my decision as I am sensing the reality of this new world I have entered. I am cold, wet and miserable as I walk this desolate street.

Ahead I see a green glowing neon sign in the window of a local bar and grill Stangs the G is flickering as the neon has worn but for now this could be a sanctuary for me – and escape from the elements – perhaps a sanctuary from reality as well!

As I get closer to the door, I can hear the sounds – music, people talking – ahh a temporary break from the bleakness of this night.

Once inside, my eyes move from left to right getting familiar with the surroundings as I am shaking off my wet coat and hat. There is a juke box on the left – glowing red and yellow with the tubes that surround its shape playing good swing music. Ahead and to my right is a massive dark mahogany bar with mirrors and some Christmas lights. There is a good crowd of people talking, laughing enjoying company and drinks.

As I approach the bar, it is evident to me who the regulars are as they seem to congregate down and in the right corner leaving a few seats open at the front. The bartender is a big guy – maybe 6’1 or 6’2 wearing a white shirt, black tie undone and a lit cigarette hanging from the corner of his mouth. His appearance and presence are a bit intimidating and I am not sure if he is a friend or foe. His face is square- chiseled- a few pock marks and scars – he has deep set piercing steel grey blue eyes and his demeanor is hard and tough – maybe a man with a past.

I pull out a stool and take my position at the bar, the bartender acknowledges me with a glance as he is pouring drinks for other patrons at the bar. In a few short moments the bartender approaches me – stands directly in front of me – puts his hands on the edge of the bar – thick rough hands – looks directly at me with those steel grey blue eyes and says

What’s your pleasure friend? I quickly respond with I’ll have a draft sir.

As he opens the tap, the smell of beer enters my nostrils along with the smoke from his cigarette. I glance around the bar as I am enjoying the first sip of beer, picking up some bits and pieces of conversations around me. There is an older man sitting next to me drinking boilermakers as I found out – shot and a beer.

Hey kid – you new in town? With a friendly smile I say Yeah, been here two days

Well – welcome kid he responds and we clink glasses. I say thanks and proceed to tell him how I got here. He tells me a little about the waterfront and how tough it is.

You must be a regular here I say and he says

Oh yeah kid – this is the safest place on the waterfront.

Yes, it seems friendly here, people seem to be having fun – why is this place so safe?

He nods his head – looks at the bartender and says

"Jack- I have been coming here for years – watched that boy grow up. He’s a decorated ex-marine and a cop.

Nobody crosses the line with Jack".

I take another sip of beer and hear the door behind me open and can feel the rush of cold air from outside as a customer enters the bar. He takes his wet coat and hat off - hangs it on the rack and sits on a stool to my left. He and Jack make eye contact and the man says

Holy shit Jack – it’s nasty out there – won’t have to worry about bums and mugs tonight!

Jack with a little sneer on his face says Beer or shot Mickey?

Both he says with a laugh. It was very clear to me that these guys were very good friends.

Jack brings Mickey his drinks – Mickey downs the shot and smiles – and with a verbal Ahh – that’s damn good. So Jack – how’s the cop business? Any good stories for me tonight?

Jack looks at Mickey with that friendly sneer and says How’s the book business? You still writing the story about the ex-marine who is a cop?

This is where my story begins – in the middle – why? Because the past will bring you here – and from here – to the future.

My name is Allan Beauregard (Beau) Simms and a chance meeting at a New York waterfront bar one nasty winter night is where I first met Jack Stang, Mickey Spillane, and heard the name Mike Hammer. I didn’t know then what impact this would have on me or the world for that matter.

Like the ‘Rhyme of the Ancient Mariner’ I have carried this albatross around my neck for years and need to tell this story – The story of a real man and in his voice –

JACK STANG

Chapter Two

July 3, 1932

It is a warm summer night- July 3, 1932- the sky is clear and I can see all the stars and constellations in the heavens. Dad-Mom-me and my brothers- Ronny and Wally, are driving home from a day at Orange Lake. Dad and Mom are talking about the wonderful day at the Lake- how we loved going there to swim, ride on boats and go to the amusement park with all the rides. They would take us as often as they could for a special treat.

Despite the great depression of the 30’s, we seemed to be getting by when most people were out of work, living day by day, struggling to keep food on the table. The stock market crash a few years earlier has wrecked the economy and pushed this country into what is a great depression. Everybody has been affected – some of the wealthy and affluent people lost everything. The middle class Americans feel it the worst – people are poor, hungry, and destitute.

Dad had been working for an electrical supply company and as sales slipped away, he knew it was only a matter of time before we would be struggling to put food on the table.

He found a warehouse space on Front Street down on the Hudson River waterfront and built it into Stangs Bar and Grill and it started to become a popular place. He had the bar on one side and the luncheon on the other. A lot of department stores and offices have been moving into the area and the business grew steadily. They did a great lunch and dinner business and the night bar business was very good. He and Mom worked day and night to make it successful.

As we rounded the corner on the Old Post Road to Balmville, I saw a glowing orange sky ahead. As we got closer, the smell of a fire filled my nostrils. Flashing lights from fire trucks and police- there certainly is a fire somewhere ahead. We were getting closer to home- the reality of what lie ahead became very clear to me.

Oh my god Frances – it’s our house burning! yells Dad. It can’t be Jack – what will we do – what about the boys – that’s our home – everything we own is in that house! answered Mom in a frantic voice! Dad speeds up the car racing towards home as me and my brothers wake up from our sleepy state hearing Mom and Dads frantic voices- seeing the flashing lights- the smells-the fire ahead is raging at our house.

Oh god I thought as I begin to see our home burning to the ground before my eyes!

I put my arms around my brothers to comfort them although I am very upset and shaken by what I am seeing. Instinctively I just want to protect my brothers. Flames are coming out of the upstairs bedroom windows; the roof is engulfed in flames – sparks flying everywhere lighting the sky - billowing smoke and ash filling the air.

Dad barely brings the car to a stop – jumps out – runs up to the fire chief -

Please save our home says Dad in a pleading voice.

I’m sorry Mr. Stang - I don’t think we can says the Chief

What happened – why is my house burning? Asks Dad

We think it was an accident from fireworks – the fire started on the roof replies the Chief You know today is July 3rd and people have been lighting fireworks all day and night as an early celebration of the 4th tomorrow.

The firemen were frantically hosing down the house with as much water as the trucks could pump into the flames. The neighbors were all outside watching in disbelief – the policemen- flashing lights- fire trucks- it is just total chaos.

The roar of the fire and the crackling of the timbers as they are burning and falling to the ground, sound like a battlefield. A deep roar against the crackly sounds like gunshots- the barking of a dog – it’s Pal! He’s running toward the car and the door left open as Dad jumped out of the car. He leaps onto the front seat – over the top – into the back seat with me and my brothers. He is shaking and whimpering and licking my face. Thank God he survived the fire. He’s a special dog – smart, a sense of things – instinct from his breeding. Pal is half fox and half Chow, dark brown in color, not very big.

Mom is crying and trying to comfort us and at the same time keeping us in the car – safe – and not wanting us to see our house being destroyed. But I can see it all through the windshield of the car – helpless – all we could do is wait until it is all over.

Don’t worry mom – we can build a new house I say as I try to hold back my tears.

With just the clothes on our backs, a neighbor approaches Dad and offers to take us in for the night. What was such a wonderful and fun day at the lake is turning out to be the most horrifying evening of my life. Dad got back in the car and turned around to us-

Well boys- there is nothing we can do about the fire, but Mister Crammer has offered to let us stay at his house until I can find us a temporary home. Says Dad as he put his arm around Mom.

I’m just lost for words and don’t know what to say – Ronny and Wally are crying and very upset.

We are o k Dad – and Pal is safe. I say to Dad

Don’t worry- I will find us another house soon. I have a lot of friends from Stang’s that will help me look.

Answered Dad with a reassuring tone in his voice.

Chapter Three

We moved into an apartment on Montgomery Street – it was small - a bit crowded, and being in the city, did not feel like a home to us- but we were a family – Mom- Dad- me- Ronny- Wally and of course Pal. We accepted what life dealt us and I knew things would be better someday.

A couple months had passed since the fire and late one afternoon Dad came home early –

Kids – I found us a new house – it’s on Winona Lake – it’s a nice house with a big yard and you boys will have your own rooms again and a beautiful lake for swimming.

Everybody was so excited and happy – a new house – a home – away from the city! Me and my brothers couldn’t sleep and we were scurrying around to pack what little possessions we had. Tomorrow we are moving to our new home.

The drive to the new house seemed to take forever. The anticipation of seeing it for the first time made minutes seem like hours as we drove towards the lake.

As the car meandered up the road, the first thing I see is the lake and my brothers are looking out the windows – laughing – talking as the car brought us closer to the lake. Up a small hill and into the driveway- the house was now directly in front of us. It’s a two story white house with black shutters- a garage in back and a nice big yard.

As soon as the car comes to a stop in the driveway, me and my brothers and Pal, run to see our new home! Dad unlocked the front door and we ran through the house laughing and trying to take it all in and Pal is right along side us barking. Through the living room, the kitchen and then upstairs to the bedrooms – everyone is so excited – it is the perfect house for us!

Dad – can we go see the lake? I asked

OK boys – you can go to the lake – but don’t go in it without us being with you says Dad

Sure Dad – we just want to see it answers Ronny

Me, Ronny, Wally, and Pal run down the driveway to the lake – it wasn’t big like Orange Lake, but it is a good size. There is a dam at one end and a small beach area – perfect for swimming. The water is very clear and clean as it is mostly spring fed and has a big rock in the middle to swim out to.

With the few possessions we had, everything got moved in today and we became settled and comfortable very quickly. There wasn’t much time for us to play, because me and Ronny were about to start at our new school in a few days – Union Grove School – Wally was too young.

Life is very normal again and visions of that tragic night of the fire seem to fade away as we are making new memories in our new home. The bar is doing well - Dad and Mom are working many hours to make it a great success. They hired a maid to work around the house and take care of us during the day when they were working at the bar and luncheon. During the week, me and Ronny are in school; Wally stays home with the maid and Pal. At the end of the day, Pal is waiting at the end of the driveway for us – he somehow knows exactly when the bus would be arriving. On weekends, the house is always filled with relatives and friends – lots of cookouts and parties – fun – a warm and friendly home.

One day when I came home from school, Wally was crying – his lip was cut and swollen

Wally – what happened to you? I asked

The Wallace boys beat me up says Wally through his tears.

I stormed out the front door and headed down the street to the Wallace house. These two boys were the bullies in the neighborhood and I was going to put a stop to this right now!

George and Abe Wallace – one was called Blubber he was a big kid and would bully everybody – always beating on the smaller kids.

When I got to their house – both boys were in the front yard – they were laughing and taunting me as I approached them. They were bigger than I was and ready to pounce on me like they did everyone else.

I didn’t say a word and headed right to Blubber- the bigger of the two boys.

Bam – I hit him hard in the face and as Blubber started falling back, I jumped on him and we started wrestling and punching. The other Wallace boy got scared when he saw me hit Blubber and did not do a thing. Blubber started crying like a baby and I pinned him to the ground. Don’t you ever touch my brother again or I’ll be back! I said with my knees pinned to his chest and I had his arms stretched out behind his head.

Well, word got around quickly in the neighborhood and school about the fight and from that time on – no one ever picked on a Stang boy!

Chapter Four

Living at Winona Lake was great for the family. We had the lake to swim in the summer and skate and sled during the winter. Stang’s Bar and Grill was doing great – very successful – and it seemed we were living a wonderful life. I was happy at school and had lots of friends. The memories of that tragic night when our home burned to the ground was behind us – just seemed so long ago – like a bad dream.

One fall day, me and Ronny were returning home from school on the bus – the bus stopped at our driveway – and we got off

Hey, Jack – where’s Pal? asks Ronny as

Pal always waited at the end of the driveway for us.

I don’t see him anywhere I said as I looked around in search of him.

We headed up the driveway to the house thinking maybe he was there. I opened the front door and Mom was home – she shouldn’t be here I thought – she should be at the restaurant.

Boys – something terrible has happened – I need to talk to you. Says Mom as Ronny and I walked into the kitchen. We sat at the kitchen table and Mom said:

I am so sorry to tell you this - but there was an accident with Pal

Ronny pipes up Is he OK mom?

Well no – he was at the end of the driveway, lying down waiting for you boys as he always does – and the neighbor didn’t see him, and backed the car over him Mom answers in a very quiet voice.

Tears came to my eyes and all I could see was Pals’ face and Ronny started sobbing. Mom tried to comfort us -stood up and put her arms around us. Wally came in and was crying as well. The household would never be the same – Pal was part of the family – always there – he was Pal.

It was very quiet for a couple weeks as everyone tried to adjust to Pal being gone – it was hard – especially on me-we grew up together. I could see the sadness on Ronny’s face when we got off the bus and Pal wasn’t there – you could hear some tears at night when we were in bed – no Pal.

It was a Sunday, a few weeks later, and I heard Dads’ car pulling in the driveway, along the house and up to the back of the garage. There seemed to be some commotion outside and Dad and another man were laughing. Mom- me and my brothers went outside to investigate- sounded like they may have had a little too much to drink. Well, what a surprise – they had a pony in the back seat of the car – no one could believe it. Apparently, they had taken the back seat out to get the pony in!

Mom was a little upset at the sight of this

What the hell are you doing with a pony in the back seat of the car?-Are you drunk? yells Mom

Dad laughed and said:

Hey, I got the pony for the boys – we will build a barn on back of the garage.

No one knows where or why or how he got the pony but we were thrilled – we had our own pony and her name was Betsey. She was dark brown – almost black. You could tell she was very young and skittish, and had not been trained.

Me, being the oldest, and I had a way with animals, became her trainer. She took to me quickly and as the weeks went by, became part of the family like Pal had been.

Well, I was on her all the time. I rode her to school. I would cut through the woods in back of the lake and make Ronny and Wally take the bus. I would ride her in the lake after school and go swimming with Betsey.

It was getting late one evening and Ronny was late for dinner. Mom said Jack – go find your brother Ronny, maybe he’s in the woods or down by the lake. I jumped on Betsey and headed to the lake first and fortunate that I did.

As I got close to the lake, I heard a lot of splashing – then I saw Ronny going under – I jumped off Betsey and into the lake. Ronny was caught on a branch by the dam and was certainly drowning. I was a good swimmer and managed to free Ronny and pull him out of the lake- minutes later – Ronny would have been dead.

Ronny was coughing and out of breath – gasping for air – we sat on the beach until he regained his strength – Don’t tell Mom – she will kill me Ronny said in a pleading voice.

I wiped the scratches on Ronny’s leg from the branch he was entangled in and replied – No, we can’t tell her – we will say you were trying to get your ball that fell out of your hand on the dam and you slipped and fell in the lake.

Chapter Five

I just got back from a great afternoon at the lake-Ronny and Wally were in the shower getting ready for dinner. I looked out my window at the lake and the sun was about to go down. It was bright orange and made the lake shimmer and glow- it looked like a picture from postcard. The reflections off the lake were highlighting the trees and landscape. I sat at my desk just staring at it and my mind began to wander.

Soon our summer vacation would end and I was going to start high school in a few days. I was feeling anxious and still thinking this next chapter of my life would be unfolding. This is a big step and soon I would be an adult.

This is the time when I will have to make decisions as to what to do with my life.

It is said that by your early teens, who you are – your character – morals – sense of direction – beliefs- are blue printed into your mind and soul. Your environment, experiences, family values, education and your minds ability to sift through all that information becomes the foundation and building blocks to your future identity.

As you grow into a mature adult, choices are made of which path you will take – some planned – some by accident – some by circumstance.

Some people have natural abilities in crafts, music, science, math or sports. You could be a Beethoven, Einstein, George Washington, Van Gough or Mickey Mantle. We are so diverse as humans from the farmer who grows our food to the President of the United States. Which path would I take?

In any society, whether it be human or animal, there is always a leader in that group – not elected or chosen but a natural position assumed – the stallion protecting his mares in a heard of wild mustangs, the lion watching over his pride or the wolf that protects his den.

Would my path to be one of circumstance as assured by the events surrounding me? I started on his path much earlier in life then most at that horrible fire in 1932, watching my home burn to the ground- unknowingly it ignited my brain- soul and instincts. I became a protector – a leader – not by choice - but by circumstance.

I am popular in school and have lots of friends. I’m very outgoing and people tend to look to me for advice and think I am fun to be around. The teachers like me as well. I am polite, respectful, but a little devilish as all young boys. How many kids could get away with riding his pony to school and tying her up outside the school?

I’m athletic, a good swimmer, runner, with natural abilities in football and baseball. As I am maturing from adolescence into my teen years, me the boy is becoming a man. My physical characteristics are of course inherited from my lineage. My grandfather