In the front yard of his home in Sylvester, longtime Boone County political figure Johnny Protan demonstrates the left hook that helped him win dozens of boxing titles in his heyday as a fighter in the 1940s. The 88-year-old former Golden Gloves promoter served three four-year terms as Boone County sheriff.
At 88, Boone County icon Johnny Protan looks back on a high-profile life dominated by two great passions -- boxing and politics.
At 88, Boone County icon Johnny Protan looks back on a high-profile life dominated by two great passions -- boxing and politics.
He worked more than two decades in the mines, won an unprecedented three terms as Boone County sheriff and chaired the Boone County Democratic Executive Committee for years.
A star resident on the main drag of Sylvester since 1954, he's a small man with a big, soft heart and a hard left hook that earned numerous amateur championships, two professional titles and a 39-4 record as a pro.
In 1950, loss of a kidney forced him to hang up his gloves. Later, he kept his fists in the boxing pie as longtime promoter of the Charleston Golden Gloves through the Kanawha-Boone Sheriff's Association.
That canceled bout with world champion featherweight Willie Pep still rankles him.
His voice softens with sadness when he talks about his personal losses -- a son, a daughter and a grandson.
"My daddy came from Poland in 1917 to work in the mines. I was born in 1920 in Logan County, Holden. I was raised up at Cabin Creek. In 1938, we moved to Boone County.
"There were times when I wouldn't see my daddy except maybe twice a week. I'd see him maybe Friday night. They'd tell these old timers to get a ton of coal out or get your tools out, one or the other. They had to work until they finished the cut up. They cut the mines, a machine does that, and then they'd shoot it. They had to clean up the cut before they could go home.
"We lived in the company house. It wasn't much. It had an outdoor toilet. You could see the stars through the ceiling. You had to deal at the company store. We had a company doctor and a company hospital. In 1950, I had kidney stones and I worked in the mines, and we paid into the hospital, Laird Memorial in Montgomery. So they sent me to Montgomery with kidney stones, and they took my kidney.
"I was 17 when I started in the mines. My brother worked in mines, and my daddy was totally disabled. He had sclerosis of the liver. When my brother got married, I dropped out of school and went to work in mines to take care of the family. Later, I got my GED.
"I worked 23 years in the mines. It was tough down there. I can see that now. But when I was down there working, I didn't mind it at all. You had to work in the mines, so you didn't give it a thought. I started off loading coal. You got 77 cents a ton. Later on, I was a brakeman on the motor and ran a motor, too. I made less than a dollar an hour braking on the motor.
"Everything I got, I owe it to boxing. I loved boxing. My brother belonged to the Boy Scouts, and I used go with him and we would box there. I was an outstanding boxer. They had a gymnasium at Highcoal. Van B. Stith used to be a boxer. He was superintendent of the mines. My daddy was disabled, and he gave my daddy a job, too, just to get me to work for him. So I worked in mines there and boxed.
"I fought in the 118-pound class, bantamweight; and the 126-pound class, featherweight. I took to it right away. I defeated Ralph Rogers from Huntington for the 118-pound class, professional. He'd had 14 fights in a row when I defeated him. Then I defeated Johnny Howard in a 10-rounder at the Kanawha ballpark. They had boxing going on full blast at that time.
"I was in perfect shape. I fought Tuffy Fairfield from Gary, Ind., a professional 10-rounder, and he fought two world champions and went the limit with them, and I knocked him out in the ninth round.
At 88, Boone County icon Johnny Protan looks back on a high-profile life dominated by two great passions -- boxing and politics.
He worked more than two decades in the mines, won an unprecedented three terms as Boone County sheriff and chaired the Boone County Democratic Executive Committee for years.
A star resident on the main drag of Sylvester since 1954, he's a small man with a big, soft heart and a hard left hook that earned numerous amateur championships, two professional titles and a 39-4 record as a pro.
In 1950, loss of a kidney forced him to hang up his gloves. Later, he kept his fists in the boxing pie as longtime promoter of the Charleston Golden Gloves through the Kanawha-Boone Sheriff's Association.
That canceled bout with world champion featherweight Willie Pep still rankles him.
His voice softens with sadness when he talks about his personal losses -- a son, a daughter and a grandson.
"My daddy came from Poland in 1917 to work in the mines. I was born in 1920 in Logan County, Holden. I was raised up at Cabin Creek. In 1938, we moved to Boone County.
"There were times when I wouldn't see my daddy except maybe twice a week. I'd see him maybe Friday night. They'd tell these old timers to get a ton of coal out or get your tools out, one or the other. They had to work until they finished the cut up. They cut the mines, a machine does that, and then they'd shoot it. They had to clean up the cut before they could go home.
"We lived in the company house. It wasn't much. It had an outdoor toilet. You could see the stars through the ceiling. You had to deal at the company store. We had a company doctor and a company hospital. In 1950, I had kidney stones and I worked in the mines, and we paid into the hospital, Laird Memorial in Montgomery. So they sent me to Montgomery with kidney stones, and they took my kidney.
"I was 17 when I started in the mines. My brother worked in mines, and my daddy was totally disabled. He had sclerosis of the liver. When my brother got married, I dropped out of school and went to work in mines to take care of the family. Later, I got my GED.
"I worked 23 years in the mines. It was tough down there. I can see that now. But when I was down there working, I didn't mind it at all. You had to work in the mines, so you didn't give it a thought. I started off loading coal. You got 77 cents a ton. Later on, I was a brakeman on the motor and ran a motor, too. I made less than a dollar an hour braking on the motor.
"Everything I got, I owe it to boxing. I loved boxing. My brother belonged to the Boy Scouts, and I used go with him and we would box there. I was an outstanding boxer. They had a gymnasium at Highcoal. Van B. Stith used to be a boxer. He was superintendent of the mines. My daddy was disabled, and he gave my daddy a job, too, just to get me to work for him. So I worked in mines there and boxed.
"I fought in the 118-pound class, bantamweight; and the 126-pound class, featherweight. I took to it right away. I defeated Ralph Rogers from Huntington for the 118-pound class, professional. He'd had 14 fights in a row when I defeated him. Then I defeated Johnny Howard in a 10-rounder at the Kanawha ballpark. They had boxing going on full blast at that time.
"I was in perfect shape. I fought Tuffy Fairfield from Gary, Ind., a professional 10-rounder, and he fought two world champions and went the limit with them, and I knocked him out in the ninth round.
"I made a little money. I fought a six-rounder, a main go in Trenton, N.J., and I got $800, and that was big money then.
"I went in the Navy in December 1942. I went to motor machinist school at Richmond, Va., and I boxed, and then I went on the USS Appalachian, a communications flagship, to the South Pacific. The ship carried nothing but officers: Army, Navy and Marines.
"In the Navy, they called me 'Knockout King of West Virginia.' They had smokers, and I'd hit a guy with two punches. I'm right-handed, but at Highcoal, we had a trainer from Charleston, Turk Hall, and he concentrated on my left hand mostly. I had a real good left hook. I'd hit 'em in the gut, and I'd finish up with that hard left hook.
"Ring magazine named me best bantamweight prospect in 1946. I had 39 professional fights up and down the east coast. I held two professional titles. All together, I had 207 fights and won 200.When I lost my kidney, I had to stop boxing. I was 29.
"In 1954, I bought my house in Sylvester.
"Then I got interested in politics. At one time, if you weren't on our slate, you didn't get elected.
"First, I was elected constable when they had constables and JPs in West Virginia. There were eight running in this district, and I got more votes than all of them put together. There was plenty to do. At Whitesville, there were 18 beer taverns and five clubs. I've seen many, many fights in those beer taverns. On weekends, they would have that jail plumb full. The mayor got killed.
"In Whitesville now, you've got about 18 empty buildings. I can remember a time when you couldn't even walk on the sidewalk because it was so crowded. At one time, we had 200,000 miners working in West Virginia. It makes me sad to see Whitesville now.
"People started wanting me to run for sheriff. I lost by six votes the first time. The second time, I won by a landslide. I worked harder and knew my way around a lot better. I got elected sheriff in 1964, and I'm the only guy in the history of Boone County elected three times. I served three four-year terms. When I ran in 1964, it was just one four-year term, and then you had to sit out four years and you couldn't have any department head jobs. I got elected president of the Sheriff's Association, and we got that changed.
"I got involved in the Golden Gloves tournament and had it 22 years. We started off at Madison, then went to Seth, then to the old armory in Charleston and then to the Civic Center. The Charleston Gazette had the Golden Gloves tournament, then I went to see (former Kanawha County Sheriff) Kemp Melton and we took it over for the Kanawha-Boone Sheriff's Association. We averaged about 6,000 people a night for five nights. The proceeds went to a youth camp.
"We had boxing clubs all over the place then, the Seth club, the Anchor Club, one at Ashford, Madison, Ramage. Boxing is good for kids, keeps them out of meanness. There was one boy, he got in all kinds of trouble. I got him interested in boxing, and he made one of the best fighters in the state and straightened out. He went out of state, and every time he came back, he would stop here and see me. A lot of them stop by to see me. 'Junebug' Taylor came by a while back.
"I'm not too active in politics anymore. I'm 88, and my wife has been sick and can't walk, and I'm taking care of her.
"I've lived a good life. But I did want so bad to fight Willie Pep, the world champ. It was all set up, but he called it off. There's a framed letter about it hanging in the other room. I think I could have beat him with that left hook.
"Of course, there isn't a day that passes that I don't talk to my son. I've lost my son, my daughter and my grandson. There couldn't be anything worse. My Mickey was 51 when he passed away. He was county commissioner. Mickey had cancer. My daughter was 62. She had sugar. My grandson died at 31 in Florida. He had a drinking problem and had a heart attack. Their pictures are right over there on the wall."
Reach Sandy Wells at san...@wvgazette.com or 304-348-5173.
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