This photo that ran in The Forward in the 1940s shows one of the homegrown greats, middleweight Theodore “Herbie” Kronowitz of Brooklyn—and The Forward.

Born on at 32 Willett Street on Manhattan's Lower East Side to an observant Jewish family, Kronowitz grew up with two brothers at 562 Bedford Avenue, near the building pictured above, in Williamsburg, Brooklyn. His father’s parents were Yiddish speakers from Hungary. His mother’s parents came from Russia. Light on sports items, unless you consider chess a sport, The Forward did however cover the modern reader’s favorite topic of boxing, which explains our archival image of Kronowitz looking ready to throw an upper-cut or shtaysl in Yiddish. Theodore, the middle child in his family, adopted the name Herbie when he started his amateur boxing career. At 16, he was too young to fight so he used his older brother Herbert’s birth certificate and used his name throughout his career. Kronowitz has always been enthralled with boxing, which was popular in his Jewish neighborhood. “My neighborhood was predominantly Jewish but there was a mixture of everything,” Kronowitz said in a 2008 documentary. “There’s always been gangs in different sections. I’d fight with other kids.” He met Jewish middleweight champ Ben Jeby when his family moved to an apartment around the corner from the Kronowitzs. Kronowitz also knew the famous fighting Kessler brothers, Milt and Ruby.

Kronowitz attended the Brooklyn High School for Specialty Trades -- now called George Westinghouse Vocational School in downtown Brooklyn. The building can be seen on the far left on the image above. He later said he was not very interested in his schooling, preferring to focus on his job delivering fruits and vegetables and— boxing.

Kronowitz spent time training at the Educational Alliance, seen above on Manhattan's Lower East Side a mere shtaysl away from the landmark Forward building on East Broadway, with other kids from his neighborhood, and said he used to see Ben Jeby train there too.

Kronowitz turned pro at 17, training in Stillman’s Gym on 8th Avenue, across the street from the buildings pictured above and was soon supporting himself with his boxing . Serving in the Coast Guard during WWII, Kronowotiz was able to return to boxing when his younger brother Albert was killed in action. With his older brother Herbert stationed in the Pacific, Kronowitz was returned stateside. By 1945, Kronowitz had become the ninth-ranked middleweight boxer in the world.

Kronowitz faced many of the famous boxers of the time, including the top Jewish boxers. In one of the most dramatic fights of his career, Kronowitz went up against fellow Jewish Brooklyner Artie Levine at in 1947. Kronwitz said he was good friends with Levine, but that when he got in the ring with anyone, he fought to win. That year, Kronowitz was ranked tenth in the world among middleweights. Facing Levine in front of 12,000 at Madison Square Garden, the two fought 10 rounds with Levine winning in the end. Kronowitz would always claim that while Levine "won the decision. There was no question that I won the fight."

Later that year, he fought Harold Green, another Jewish Brooklyner, at Ebbets Field in Flatbush, Brooklyn. Kronowitz won in a unanimous decision.

As formidable and quintessential as Herbie Kronowitz was to the world of Jewish boxing, he was far from its first star. As early as 1884, Jews such as acclaimed fighter and rabbi’s son Joe Choynski were noted champion boxers, frequently written up in The Forward. Choynski, also known as "Chrysanthemum Joe" and the “California Terror” was born in San Francisco to Jewish immigrants from Poland. His New York Times obituary called him “one of the last great figures of the bareknuckle era of fistiana.” Although he made his home in Ohio, Choynski often fought matches in New York during his career, sometimes at the famed Broadway Athletic Club in Lower Manhattan, across the street from the building pictured above. In 1896, the New York Journal covered Choynski’s loss to Irish boxer Peter Maher. “The Irishman knocked out Choynski and regained his laurels. It was a clever battle and the climax reached when least expected. The Californian had victory well within his grasp but lost his head…. ” Choynski would go on to win again and in 1910, heavyweight champions Jack Johnson and James Jeffries, publicly acknowledged that the hardest punch they had received in their professional careers was the ‘ambush’ right punch by Joe Choynski. Choynski told friends “I used to stick my fists into a pickling vat, maybe for hours, just to toughen ‘em up.” Strange as that may sound, check out the film "An American Pickle" for more on pickling and culture shock.

World lightweight champion Jewish boxer, Benny Leonard, was even featured in a special interview in The Forward’s new English supplement. The headline read: “the champion lightweight gives interesting answers on the subject of Jews and boxing.” And, this completely expected quote: “His mother wants him to quit the business.” Born Benjamin Leiner, he boxed under the professional name Leonard so his parents wouldn’t find out he was fighting. Leonard was born near 8th Street and 2nd Avenue on the Lower East Side, near St. Mark's Theatre, pictured above.

Leonard fought other Jewish boxers during his career, including Charley White, Soldier Bartfield, Lew Tendler and Marty Goldman. After retiring, he starred in boxing related films, worked as a boxing instructor for the physical education department at City College of New York, seen above, and like Kronowitz, became a boxing referee.

It was while refereeing at the St. Nicholas Arena in New York, seen here during a wrestling match, that Benny Leonard died. Leonard was stricken with a massive heart attack during a fight between Mario Ramon and Bobby Williams in 1947, toppling to the canvas, and dying in the ring at the age of 51. Leonard was interred at Mount Carmel Cemetery in Glendale, New York.

Like Kronowitz and Leonard, many boxers took up refereeing after retiring. Kronowitz, who eventually moved to Neptune Avenue in Sea Gate, Brooklyn, seen above, refereed matches from 1955 until 1984 and even used his earnings to purchase a taxi medallion. Coney Island fans mention excited sitings of Kronowitz out and about and his cab.

In his later years, Kronowitz lived on Ocean Parkway, near the intersection seen above. Presciently, The Forward hired on special boxing expert, New York Evening Post columnist Jack Kofoed for specialist pieces such as the Leonard interview and this: “What Becomes of Jewish Pugilists After They Leave the Ring?”

The history of Jewish boxing in America traces its roots back to communities in Eastern Europe and even made its mark in the Yiddish language. In 2015, historian Eddy Portnoy produced an exhibit called “Yiddish Fight Club” that showcased photos, biographies and language of Jewish boxing, wrestling and street fighting at YIVO on West 16th Street, seen above when the building housed the American Foundation for the Blind. The next time you’re in the ring, try out some of Portnoy's favorite phrases, like barne (באַרנע), a closed-fisted hit on the head with the knuckle of the middle finger raised, sometimes called a noogie in English. Khsime (כסימע/חתימה) literally means “a signature,” as in, leygn a khsime afn ponem (putting one’s signature on someone’s face). There’s also the shmir (שמיר), an open-handed smack to the face. “All of this vocabulary developed because of Jewish street fighting,” Portnoy said. “There had to be terms in Yiddish created in order to explain these things. All languages have this. People just don’t expect that Yiddish has these kinds of phrases.”