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Murder on Federal Street: Tyrone Everett, the Black Mafia, Fixed Fights, and the Last Golden Age of Philadelphia Boxing
"Nam has been one of this era's best boxing writers for quite some time. ... Until now, only hard-core boxing fans were aware of Everett's story. ... Now, thanks to Nam, the picture has gone from cloudy to clear and complete." —Steve Farhood, boxing analyst for Showtime, 2017 inductee into the International Boxing Hall of Fame, and former editor of The Ring magazine "It’s investigative reporting and storytelling at its finest with a touch of a Goodfellas meets Raging Bull narrative." —Harvey Araton, New York Times best-selling author.
"Sean Nam has written a compelling, page-turning history of Tyrone Everett which will appeal to boxing and true crime fans alike. His comprehensive research is mind-boggling ... and his writing is top notch." —Sean Patrick Griffin, author of Black Brothers, The Violent Rise and Fall of Philadelphia’s Black Mafia
"If there’s a hero, it’s Sean Nam, whose obsessional reporting and evocative style turn a true story into a noir worthy of a Gamble and Huff soundtrack." —Mark Kriegel, ESPN analyst and New York Times bestselling author of The Good The Life of Ray “Boom Boom” Mancini
"We need more Sean Nams." —Teddy Atlas, Trainer and Hall of Fame broadcaster
Six months after losing a world title fight that remains infamous as one of the last mob fixes in boxing, Tyrone “The Butterfly” Everett—a flashy, handsome lightweight southpaw on the verge of stardom—was dead. Only twenty-four years old, he was shot in the head by his girlfriend, Carolyn McKendrick, who claimed that Everett had abused her throughout their relationship. But for years, street corner talk raised doubts about what actually took place in Philadelphia at 2710 Federal Street on May 26, 1977.
What really happened on that tragic afternoon? Did Carolyn McKendrick shoot Everett in self-defense, as she claimed? Or did she pull the trigger when she caught Everett and a cross-dressing drug dealer in bed together? Or did Everett die at the hands of a jealous husband who just happened to be a member of the ruthless organized crime outfit known as the Black Mafia?
Set against a backdrop of urban decline, racial tension, gangland violence, and the treacherous subculture of prizefighting, Murder on Federal Street is the riveting story of a young man whose limitless future could not outrace the dangerous present.
Written with verve and an eye for the telling detail, Murder on Federal Street covers the Everett story from prelim bouts in Scranton, to a world championship fight at the Spectrum, to the horrific shooting in South Philadelphia, to the sensational trial of Carolyn McKendrick, to the mournful and mysterious aftermath of nearly fifty years.
"Sean Nam has written a compelling, page-turning history of Tyrone Everett which will appeal to boxing and true crime fans alike. His comprehensive research is mind-boggling ... and his writing is top notch." —Sean Patrick Griffin, author of Black Brothers, The Violent Rise and Fall of Philadelphia’s Black Mafia
"If there’s a hero, it’s Sean Nam, whose obsessional reporting and evocative style turn a true story into a noir worthy of a Gamble and Huff soundtrack." —Mark Kriegel, ESPN analyst and New York Times bestselling author of The Good The Life of Ray “Boom Boom” Mancini
"We need more Sean Nams." —Teddy Atlas, Trainer and Hall of Fame broadcaster
Six months after losing a world title fight that remains infamous as one of the last mob fixes in boxing, Tyrone “The Butterfly” Everett—a flashy, handsome lightweight southpaw on the verge of stardom—was dead. Only twenty-four years old, he was shot in the head by his girlfriend, Carolyn McKendrick, who claimed that Everett had abused her throughout their relationship. But for years, street corner talk raised doubts about what actually took place in Philadelphia at 2710 Federal Street on May 26, 1977.
What really happened on that tragic afternoon? Did Carolyn McKendrick shoot Everett in self-defense, as she claimed? Or did she pull the trigger when she caught Everett and a cross-dressing drug dealer in bed together? Or did Everett die at the hands of a jealous husband who just happened to be a member of the ruthless organized crime outfit known as the Black Mafia?
Set against a backdrop of urban decline, racial tension, gangland violence, and the treacherous subculture of prizefighting, Murder on Federal Street is the riveting story of a young man whose limitless future could not outrace the dangerous present.
Written with verve and an eye for the telling detail, Murder on Federal Street covers the Everett story from prelim bouts in Scranton, to a world championship fight at the Spectrum, to the horrific shooting in South Philadelphia, to the sensational trial of Carolyn McKendrick, to the mournful and mysterious aftermath of nearly fifty years.
- GenresNonfiction
332 pages, Paperback
Published May 19, 2023
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Displaying 1 - 5 of 5 reviews
November 13, 2023
Murder on Federal Street: Tyrone Everett, the Black Mafia, Fixed Fights, and the Last Golden Age of Philadelphia Boxing is Sean Nam's first book. He covers boxing stories and is the co-president of the Boxing Writers Association of America.
Nam focuses on Tyrone Everett, a black boxer from South Philly, who was murdered on May 26, 1977 at the age of 24. His murder came 6 months after he lost to Alfredo Escalera on November 30, 1976 at the Spectrum arena in Philadelphia. It was for the WBC super featherweight title. He was expected to have a rematch in the fall. Nam shows how Everett didn't fit in with the stereotypical Philly boxer - he was more defensive, a lefty, and strategic. He also boasted about his wins, which did not win over his critics. However, he had a dedicated fan base in South Philly. His loss to Escalera is considered one of the biggest boxing fixes in history. Nam presents some of the suspicious meetings and individuals (Honest Bill Daly, Zack Clayton, Lou Tress, Francis Palermo, and Howard McCall) that may have been involved in the fix, but there is no concrete answer. It certainly seems suspicious.
Nam also highlights all the questions surrounding Everett's murder. Everett's girlfriend, Carolyn McKendrick, was found guilty of third degree murder. However, there are many unanswered questions - did she really do it or did she take the fall? Her legal husband, Ricardo McKendrick, and her family, the Swints, were involved in organized crime and drug trafficking. Was Everett really abusing her as her defense team argued? What happened to the murder weapon? The police never found it. What was the role of Tyrone Price? Was Everett in a relationship with him or not? What was the motive for his murder? Self-defense as McKendrick claimed? Jealousy of Everett's other lovers as the prosecutor argued? a hit like Everett's mom thought? a drug deal gone wrong? What was with all the heroin on the table at McKendrick's home? Nam argues there was a definite connection to the Black Mafia - a black organized crime group in the 1970s in Philadelphia. Nam asks these questions, but he doesn't have the answers. Still, he presents an interesting story and possible theories.
I do think the Black Mafia and organized crime aspect should have been explored throughout the book instead of in the last chapter or two. I was also a little lost about some of the boxing terms. I'm sure fans of the sport are fine, but readers with no familiarity might be a little lost.
I would recommend this book to anyone interested in boxing history, Philadelphia history, and or true crime stories.
Nam focuses on Tyrone Everett, a black boxer from South Philly, who was murdered on May 26, 1977 at the age of 24. His murder came 6 months after he lost to Alfredo Escalera on November 30, 1976 at the Spectrum arena in Philadelphia. It was for the WBC super featherweight title. He was expected to have a rematch in the fall. Nam shows how Everett didn't fit in with the stereotypical Philly boxer - he was more defensive, a lefty, and strategic. He also boasted about his wins, which did not win over his critics. However, he had a dedicated fan base in South Philly. His loss to Escalera is considered one of the biggest boxing fixes in history. Nam presents some of the suspicious meetings and individuals (Honest Bill Daly, Zack Clayton, Lou Tress, Francis Palermo, and Howard McCall) that may have been involved in the fix, but there is no concrete answer. It certainly seems suspicious.
Nam also highlights all the questions surrounding Everett's murder. Everett's girlfriend, Carolyn McKendrick, was found guilty of third degree murder. However, there are many unanswered questions - did she really do it or did she take the fall? Her legal husband, Ricardo McKendrick, and her family, the Swints, were involved in organized crime and drug trafficking. Was Everett really abusing her as her defense team argued? What happened to the murder weapon? The police never found it. What was the role of Tyrone Price? Was Everett in a relationship with him or not? What was the motive for his murder? Self-defense as McKendrick claimed? Jealousy of Everett's other lovers as the prosecutor argued? a hit like Everett's mom thought? a drug deal gone wrong? What was with all the heroin on the table at McKendrick's home? Nam argues there was a definite connection to the Black Mafia - a black organized crime group in the 1970s in Philadelphia. Nam asks these questions, but he doesn't have the answers. Still, he presents an interesting story and possible theories.
I do think the Black Mafia and organized crime aspect should have been explored throughout the book instead of in the last chapter or two. I was also a little lost about some of the boxing terms. I'm sure fans of the sport are fine, but readers with no familiarity might be a little lost.
I would recommend this book to anyone interested in boxing history, Philadelphia history, and or true crime stories.
This entire review has been hidden because of spoilers.
October 15, 2023
The sport of boxing many times treats even its greatest champions poorly once they’ve exited the stage. Imagine what it does to its runners-up. Or rather, wonder no more, for here is the story of one-such man, which tragically encapsulates the fate of so many other young boxers. This is the tale of a young man who should have been champion, who was robbed first by judges, and then by a bullet.
Tyrone Everett began his matriculation in the School of Hard Knocks at a very young age, on Philadelphia’s mean streets. Little about his early upbringing would strike the average reader of hard luck tales as out-of-the-ordinary, but that doesn’t make it any less poignant.
It was in the ring, when he finally got there, that he distinguished himself and his story took on something besides a bleak cast, at least for a while. He stood out, both outside of the ring where he was pursued by women, and in the ring, where he demonstrated a Willy Pep-like knack for avoiding return fire from his opponents.
Rather than having the typical Philly style—come forward, and fight a lot on the inside—Everett was more of a ring scientist. His hit-and-don’t-get-hit style went over well with the hardcore members of the Cauliflower Cognoscenti, and locals turned up because he already had a reputation in the neighborhood. But in the wider world of global boxing, Everett was regarded as a very hard sell, especially for matchmakers. And who could blame them for swerving Tyrone?
Not only could he make it a hard night for your boy, he could make your boy look like a fool—and make the audience yawn—while doing it.
Eventually, despite his supposed spoiling tactics, Everett did get his shot at the title. It came against junior lightweight Alfredo “El Salsero” Escalera, in a fight which most fans and neutrals thought Everett handily won. Former HBO commentator and unofficial scorer Harold Lederman called it, bar none, the worst decision he had ever witnessed. Author Sean Nam also makes a strong case that more than run-of-the-mill incompetence was involved in the decision. Money may have changed hands, and the remnants of the mafia old guard may have also had a hand in the stinker.
Everett, daunted by the setback, licked his wounds and shacked up with a classy and mysterious woman in South Philadelphia. Their romance was short, torrid, and punctuated by bouts of shouting and domestic violence. Eventually she grew tired of Everett’s abuse and his carousing and shot him at near-pointblank range.
Or so the story goes. Nam argues, convincingly, that the truth may be more complicated than the official narrative. The real story may involve a South Philly heroin kingpin—part of a dynasty still holding sway in the city—as well as a transsexual prostitute and a dope-running operation, in which Everett himself might have been a player.
Because it’s been a long time since these events took place—relatively speaking, as the streets have a short memory—it had to have been hard for Nam to get good intel on this story. Not only were many of the principals involved either dead or in prison, but those who weren’t out of the picture still came from a background where telling a story to a reporter is tantamount to snitching to the cops.
To put Everett’s relative anonymity at present into perspective, his gravesite didn’t even have a headstone until a thoughtful Philly boxing fan sprung for it.
Nam does yeoman’s work tracking down participants, fighters, and eye witnesses to the doings of Tyrone Everett, his highs (not quite reaching the summit) and his lows (the abyss where the bullet found him.) Nam even scores an interview (of sorts) with the woman who was charged with shooting Everett.
At its brightest, the story of Tyrone Everett is still a dark and sad tale, with a foregone conclusion. So many tales from the street are, especially those involving boxers. Promoters, managers, hangers-on, and even the fans use them up then spit them out, exsanguinating their blood like vampires, before discarding the sucked-dry corpses.
Look on the bright side. At least there are people around like Nam interested in resurrecting the memories of these men, and their in-ring deeds that, in the final analysis, should overshadow their personal faults. It helps also that Nam’s a pretty good prose stylist. Recommended, with ample photos, and a foreword by Ring Magazine’s Carles Acevedo.
Tyrone Everett began his matriculation in the School of Hard Knocks at a very young age, on Philadelphia’s mean streets. Little about his early upbringing would strike the average reader of hard luck tales as out-of-the-ordinary, but that doesn’t make it any less poignant.
It was in the ring, when he finally got there, that he distinguished himself and his story took on something besides a bleak cast, at least for a while. He stood out, both outside of the ring where he was pursued by women, and in the ring, where he demonstrated a Willy Pep-like knack for avoiding return fire from his opponents.
Rather than having the typical Philly style—come forward, and fight a lot on the inside—Everett was more of a ring scientist. His hit-and-don’t-get-hit style went over well with the hardcore members of the Cauliflower Cognoscenti, and locals turned up because he already had a reputation in the neighborhood. But in the wider world of global boxing, Everett was regarded as a very hard sell, especially for matchmakers. And who could blame them for swerving Tyrone?
Not only could he make it a hard night for your boy, he could make your boy look like a fool—and make the audience yawn—while doing it.
Eventually, despite his supposed spoiling tactics, Everett did get his shot at the title. It came against junior lightweight Alfredo “El Salsero” Escalera, in a fight which most fans and neutrals thought Everett handily won. Former HBO commentator and unofficial scorer Harold Lederman called it, bar none, the worst decision he had ever witnessed. Author Sean Nam also makes a strong case that more than run-of-the-mill incompetence was involved in the decision. Money may have changed hands, and the remnants of the mafia old guard may have also had a hand in the stinker.
Everett, daunted by the setback, licked his wounds and shacked up with a classy and mysterious woman in South Philadelphia. Their romance was short, torrid, and punctuated by bouts of shouting and domestic violence. Eventually she grew tired of Everett’s abuse and his carousing and shot him at near-pointblank range.
Or so the story goes. Nam argues, convincingly, that the truth may be more complicated than the official narrative. The real story may involve a South Philly heroin kingpin—part of a dynasty still holding sway in the city—as well as a transsexual prostitute and a dope-running operation, in which Everett himself might have been a player.
Because it’s been a long time since these events took place—relatively speaking, as the streets have a short memory—it had to have been hard for Nam to get good intel on this story. Not only were many of the principals involved either dead or in prison, but those who weren’t out of the picture still came from a background where telling a story to a reporter is tantamount to snitching to the cops.
To put Everett’s relative anonymity at present into perspective, his gravesite didn’t even have a headstone until a thoughtful Philly boxing fan sprung for it.
Nam does yeoman’s work tracking down participants, fighters, and eye witnesses to the doings of Tyrone Everett, his highs (not quite reaching the summit) and his lows (the abyss where the bullet found him.) Nam even scores an interview (of sorts) with the woman who was charged with shooting Everett.
At its brightest, the story of Tyrone Everett is still a dark and sad tale, with a foregone conclusion. So many tales from the street are, especially those involving boxers. Promoters, managers, hangers-on, and even the fans use them up then spit them out, exsanguinating their blood like vampires, before discarding the sucked-dry corpses.
Look on the bright side. At least there are people around like Nam interested in resurrecting the memories of these men, and their in-ring deeds that, in the final analysis, should overshadow their personal faults. It helps also that Nam’s a pretty good prose stylist. Recommended, with ample photos, and a foreword by Ring Magazine’s Carles Acevedo.
January 21, 2024
Good story about boxing history in Philadelphia circa 1970s with emphasis on the story
Liked the story of Tyronne Everitt and what transpired in 1970s Philadelphia. The back drop of the Civil unrest, emergence of the Black Mafia and the times therein were quite enlihtening.
Liked the story of Tyronne Everitt and what transpired in 1970s Philadelphia. The back drop of the Civil unrest, emergence of the Black Mafia and the times therein were quite enlihtening.
August 19, 2024
Sean nam does a very good job at shedding light on a talented boxer with a murky street life and murder . Interesting stuff.
August 17, 2025
Good not Great
Author knows his boxing stuff but gets repetitious Would have been a very good book 70 pages shorter. But for the boxing completist(like me) its a must read
Author knows his boxing stuff but gets repetitious Would have been a very good book 70 pages shorter. But for the boxing completist(like me) its a must read
Displaying 1 - 5 of 5 reviews