Where is johnny tapia buried

Tapia's handler had asked Holden to put Tapia on a card headlined by heavyweight boxer Tommy Morrison. Though the two had never interacted before weigh-ins, Tapia could tell something was bothering Holden. Johnny was right. Holden's mind wandered. All he could think about was Scott and how he should be at his friend's bedside.

Eight days before, Scott was driving down a turnpike in Tulsa, when a semi truck slammed into his vehicle, instantly killing his wife and son. Somehow, Scott survived but was paralyzed from the waist down. They buried his family and he couldn't go, and I'm just not really into this fight,' " Holden said.

Weigh-ins concluded, and Holden was leaving the arena when Tapia approached him and tapped him on the shoulder. When they got there, Holden said, Tapia was silent, struck by Scott's positivity. On the way back to the hotel, Holden and Tapia didn't say much.

Three days later, after Tapia left town, Holden went back to visit his friend. Dignitaries came by the dozens Sunday to memorialize the legendary boxer and to share anecdotes -- all of them painting Tapia as a kindred spirit, the generous, happy-go-lucky type. Fans poured into The Pit, where in Tapia won his first of five world titles. They chanted his name, paid their respects and remembered his life, a callous existence rooted in death, family dysfunction, self-destruction and pain.

More than a half-dozen friends and professional acquaintances spoke, all conjuring up enough Tapia moments to fill a library, as Tapia's casket sat in the middle of a makeshift boxing ring. Call me if you need me. He invoked memories of Tapia's July 18, , slugfest with Danny Romero. Tapia's life outside the ring mirrored the time he spent in it, a constant battle marked by rounds of deliverance and doom. Death was the only opponent Tapia didn't want to beat.

He was a closet fatalist, scarred forever after seeing his mother meet a violent end. She was stabbed 26 times and left for dead on Albuquerque's south side, while the 8-year-old Tapia watched from the window sill. And yet, as Sunday's memorial service proved, Tapia extended so much hope and inspiration to his followers.

His bouts were as cathartic as they were thrilling, the fighter channeling his mother's killer into a type of heavy-handed calligraphy -- swooping hooks, short jabs, whipping haymakers.

Despite an outpouring of public adoration, Tapia struggled to overcome his demons. A cocaine addiction lopped off years of his pro boxing career. And stints in jail and a committed wife, Teresa, weren't enough to cure what ailed him. He never reconciled how no one called the cops when his mother didn't come home. Calling the cops was taboo in the barrio. The family learned of the crime after reading the newspaper. In his book, Tapia recalled how his mom waffled about going dancing that fateful night, but did against her better judgment.

I don't want you to go, Mama. Please don't go. Johnny, sniffling and eating the Snickers bar, watched his mother pile into the yellow Pinto and drive off. That night, he couldn't sleep. The house was dead silent, cousins and uncles sprawled out across the floor, resting unassumingly.

But not Johnny. He was a wreck, pacing back and forth, peering out the window, like a watchdog. Something was wrong, and Johnny knew it, guided by a mother-son bond. If there was ever a fighter who mirrored my father in terms of dealing with personal inner demons, it was Johnny Tapia.

Like my father, Tapia was an extremely kind man who would transform into an unlikable person when under the influence. Eventually, both men fell victim at a young age due to years of substance abuse. When Johnny was eight years old, he witnessed his mother being dragged out of their home one night. She was stabbed 26 times, raped and drugged. She fought to survive, but four days later, she succumbed and died. It also ignited the fire inside him that helped make him the 39th greatest fighter of the last 45 years.

After a very successful amateur career, the Albuquerque, New Mexico native turned pro in as a super flyweight. For the first two and a half years of his pro career, Tapia dazzled boxing fans along the west coast with his excellent hand speed and supreme counterpunching. He was undefeated in 22 fights when after his fight against Santiago Caballero in October of he failed the post-fight drug test. Tapia was found with cocaine in his system and was immediately suspended, a suspension that was honored throughout the entire United States.

His boxing license would be suspended until early Tapia wasted no time after his month forced exile from boxing by fighting seven times in The sixth fight that year saw Tapia pummel Henry Martinez over 11 rounds to win his first world title, the WBO version of the super flyweight title.

Tapia was brilliant as champion, as he successfully defended his title 10 times before signing to fight what at the time was the biggest fight in the history of the pound division. It was a fight between his former childhood friend turned rival, the IBF super flyweight champion Danny Romero. A bitter dispute between Johnny and the elder Romero led to an angry Johnny leaving the Romero camp which resulted in a years long feud that was the selling point for their July 18, title unification fight in Las Vegas.

It was that night that both my parents and I realized the striking similarities between my father and Johnny. Tapia was sensational that night as he bedazzled Romero with his precision of a left jab and pinpoint counterpunching of the overly aggressive Romero.

He followed the blueprint laid out by his legendary trainer Eddie Futch to a tee. It would be the last significant fight Futch would lead a fighter to victory as he retired soon after. My mother, who has always been frank and up front, asked me if Tapia had substance abuse problems. My girlfriend sheepishly smiled as both Pop and I agreed that my mother was right. Tapia put on the performance of a lifetime that night, winning the decision and hugging both Danny Sr.

From that moment on until the day he died, my mom would ask me from time to time if Johnny was okay. Tapia would successfully retain his pound title two more times before moving up to pounds and defeating Nana Konadu to win the WBA bantamweight title. It would be one of the greatest fights in the history of the bantamweight division.