>From "Nuestro Pueblo - Los Angeles, City of Romance" Copyright 1940, by Charles H. Owens and Joseph F. Seewerker HOME OF THE CHAMPION Once the boys gathered before this pleasant house on its terrace. They waited patiently, watched worshipfully, for sight of a monarch. When a door slammed and a huge, quick-moving man ran lightly down the steps, the pushed and whispered: 'There he is! That's the Champ!' James J. Jeffries would swing off along Cypress Avenue from his home at number 545. The boys would trot after him, copying the way he arched his huge chest and swung his thick boilermaker's arms. But Big Jim would whirl upon them good-humoredly after a few blocks. 'Beat it home, now! Your mothers will be looking for you!' He was the Great Jeffries, such a champion that the old-timers yet call him 'champion of champions,' greatest of all. He built his home next to the family place at Cypress and Figueroa. The old house was torn down to make way for a school, but the Champion's house remains and, for all that Jim Jeffries no longer lives there, it is not just a house. Too many middle-aged men in Los Angeles remember the early days of the century when as small boys they watched the Champ come out.