Who Killed Davey Moore?

I was pretty young when I realized that I had blood on my hands.  I learned that lesson from listening to Pete Seeger’s version of Bob Dylan’s song, “Who Killed Davey Moore?”  The song is about an American boxer named Davey Moore, aka “The Little Giant” because he was only five feet, two inches tall.  On March 21, 1963, Moore fought Cuban boxer Sugar Ramos.  After losing the bout, he conducted post-fight interviews.  Later that evening, he complained of headaches, passed out, and died four days later.  

In Dylan’s song, the referee says he’s not to blame for Moore’s death.  If he’d stopped the fight before its end, the crowd would have booed.  The crowd says it’s not their fault–they just came to see a good fight.  The manager denies blame, stating that if Moore was sick, he should have said.  One by one, the gambling man, the sports writer, and Moore’s opponent Ramos deny culpability.  Dylan ends the song with the question, “Who killed Davey Moore?  How come he died, and what’s the reason for?”  

By ending with a question, Dylan leaves us, the listeners, to ponder the answer.  When we listen closely, we hear the singer’s message: Yes, we all killed Davey Moore.  Not one of us is innocent–we all have blood on our hands.  We’re part of a system that glorifies violence, and pays a premium to promote people’s pain.  The referees among us who might stop the fight, think instead about the disapproval of the bloodthirsty crowd.  Those whose job it is to promote the violence seem to thrive off its proliferation.  The media benefits from sensational stories.  And we the people–we just came to see some sweat.  Yes, we are the crowd. We are the manager.  We are the writer.  We are the opponent.  So when Dylan asks his question, he leaves us to say, “Maybe it’s me?”  This song shaped me at a young age, because it made me realize that my hands aren’t as clean as I think they are.

When Jesus told his disciples that one of them was going to betray him to death, they asked the same question.  “Lord, is it I?  Maybe it’s me–am I the one?”  Instead of pointing fingers to find someone else who’s more to blame, they each had the wisdom to ask what part they might have to play in such violence.  Maybe it’s time for us to do the same.

In this violent world we’re a part of, it’s easy to say, “It’s not my fault–it must be yours.”  We point to unjust lawmakers, crooked cops, biased media, or politicians who try to use conflict to their own advantage.  And maybe they share some of the blame.  But what if we did the harder thing and asked, “Lord, is it I?”  What if, instead of trying to take the splinter out of our brother’s eye, we pried the log out of our own eye first?  What if we realized we’re all part of a system, a society, that’s sick, and that we all have blood on our hands?  What if we all were honest and said, “I killed Davey Moore.”  And then what if we had the courage to change–ourselves and the system–so nobody like him would need to die again?

© Gregory T. Smith. Greg is a caseworker serving the homeless community in the Pacific Northwest. To read more of his articles, log onto revgregsmith.blogspot.com.