A forgotten regional icon...

[PKO101]

Recently I stumbled onto an old strongman site. While viewing the picutures and stories, I noticed one particular strongman, I'd swear I have seen somewhere. After googling the name a couple of times I found out the man's name was Joe L. Greenstein (The Mighty Atom). I seen this man a couple of times at Zern's Market, Gilbertsville, PA in 1969. At the time I thought he was just another trickster of sorts, only recently to learn of this man's true greatness. His successor was Slim "The Hammerman" Farman. Does anyone else remember seeing this legend. Please chime in with any and all stories!

[silverspoon220]

hum i have to say ive never even hear of this person at all. I dont think they tought about this guy in high school at least as far as i know. tell me more.

[PKO101]

REMINISCING ABOUT THE MIGHTY ATOM & SLIM FARMAN

...A DAY I SHALL NEVER FORGET
By Vic Boff

Sunday, September 15th, 1979. That's a day that I shall always remember.

The nation's attention was being focused on New York City. "New York is Book Country" was the great motto and title for that beautiful sunny fall day. The World famed Fifth Avenue from 57th to 47th Streets was closed to traffic as thousands of enthusiastic book seekers came to browse and search for their prepublications and potential best sellers along that elegant swatch of thoroughfare featuring 172 outdoor kiosks or booths.

The big book of the day was proudly presented by the Viking press prior to it's national release. "The Mighty Atom" made its New York debut at this major cultural event.

The author, Ed Spielman, famed screenwriter and the creator of the Emmy Award winning Kung Fu Television Series, assisted by Slim "The Hammer Man" Farman, the Atom's heir as the last of the great strongmen, treated the thousands of folks present to a super strongman show they would witness only once in a lifetime.

On a stage on East 52nd Street between Fifth and Madison, which had been cordoned off to traffic, Ed Spielman narrated with eloquence and drama the day's Historical Strongman Show. For forty-five minutes, Slim "The Hammer Man" Farman gave one of the most amazing demonstrations of feats of Strength seldom seen in modern times.

He exploded heavy steel chains with his hands and chest expansion, crushed shiny crowbar sized steel bars, drove spikes through two inch thick pine lumber with a swipe of his hand, broke his own world record in the leverage or hammer lift, bent a four foot long half inch thick steel bar over the bridge of his nose and all through the show, he bent over two hundred 6 inch 1/4 inch thick nails the difficult way, starting at shoulder level, and then bending downwards.

The silence was golden. Such a physical demonstration of power this audience appreciated and applauded as they sensed the realization of this man "Slim's" physical and mental powers. A genuine strongman, thrilling and truly magnificent, as he performed one great feat after another.

The last of the Great Strongmen (The Mighty Atom) returned in the person of Slim "The Hammer Man" Farman.

Since the passing of the "Mighty Atom" in 1977, his protege Lawrence Slim "The Hammer Man" Farman and biographer Ed Spielman have teamed up to keep his memory and his teachings alive. "So," as one newspaper writer put it, "the legend of the 'Mighty Atom' lives on in the form of Slim "The Hammer Man."

The older readers need no introduction to this amazing man. For those enthusiasts not so informed, I quote from the "Super Athletes" by David P. Willoughby, an international authority, writer and investigator in the field of physical strength and development, "Joe Greenstein (64 inches, 140 lbs.), of the Bronx, New York, was a sideshow and carnival strongman known as "The Mighty Atom." He also appeared in vaudeville, both in Europe and the United States, over a period of about 20 years. He was still able to perform many of his feats when past 80 years of age.


He could 'break' by chest expansion as many as three chains placed together, of a size designated as No. 8 or No. 10 jack chain. This consisted of S-shaped links of the type that could be parted rather than broken. Greenstein could also bend an iron bar or a horseshoe with his teeth while one end of the bar was fixed (as in a vise.) The bar that he used for this purpose was usually one of 1/2 inch mild cold-rolled steel, 8 or 9 inches long. This size of bar he could also bend into a U shape with his hands. But Greenstein's most extraordinary and spectacular feat far transcended these chain breaking and bar-bending exhibitions. He could bite a nail in half! That he actually possessed the ability to do this he demonstrated on many different occasions. On one of these, about 1934, when he was 53 years of age, Greenstein walked into the well frequented New York gymnasium operated by Siegmund Klein and before the incredulous stares of Klein and about a dozen of his pupils who were working-out in the gym at the time, proceeded to bite in two a 20 penny nail that Klein, after satisfying himself that it was a strong and sound one-supplied. Klein's description of the act was as follows: 'Greenstein placed the nail in his mouth, clamping it between his molars and holding onto the head of the nail with his fingers. Then with tremendous pressure he bit into the nail, and one could hear the teeth crunching as though they were being ground. He then turned the nail a little and bit again. On the last bite he just bent the nail slightly-and presto, it was in half! . . . all of us checked his teeth to see that there were no special mouth pieces or caps over his teeth.' Greenstein was capable also of performing with a 25-cent coin the same feat of biting and breaking."

During World War II, Mr. Greenstein unselfishly gave his time to Uncle Sam's Bond Drive. This modern day Samson did not only lecture but demonstrated the strength of his hair by pulling a truck loaded with passengers, and in this way he sold hundreds of thousands of dollars worth of bonds for Uncle Sam.

It is a fact that this modern Samson's hair was so strong it could not be pulled out. One of the most astounding feats of strength ever seen was headlined by the Buffalo (New York) Evening Times on September 29th, 1928: "Mighty Atom -- Super Strong Man Pits Brawn Against Plane, Wins." At the Buffalo Airport before a large crowd of stunned witnesses, this human dynamo held his ground when the pilot increased the plane speed from 800 rpm for an approximate speed of 30 miles per hour to a speed of 1,600 rpm for a speed of 60 miles per hour. Without a doubt, the Atom was the strongest haired man in the world. "Believe It or Not" by Ripley had featured this superman many times over the years.



To get back to his patriotism during World War II, The "Mighty Atom" helped, without any compensation, to recruit men for New York City's diminishing Police Force. He toured the city for two years giving demonstrations of jujitsu, judo, etc., to interest men in joining the civilian Police Force. He was highly commended by the Mayor and other officials of New York City.

The Atom's years of experience as a wrestler and strongman in his early days made a superior man of him, mentally as well as physically. I shall never forget way back in 1936, when six giant longshoremen became disorderly and tried to interfere with one of his associates who was lecturing. "The Atom," after a dramatic fight, put all six men in the hospital. Many of the New York papers carried a front page story entitled "Little Giant Knocks Out Six" The story read, "He weighs but 148 pounds, and is only 5'4 1/2" tall. No wonder writers have termed The Mighty Atom as "The World's Biggest Little Man."

The "Mighty Atom" performed all of his feats until the end of his life. A man who broke the time barrier with strength into the age of impossibility. In 1977, then well into his eighties, he performed a Martial Arts Show in Madison Square Gardens giving one of the most awesome exhibitions of strength performance that stunned thousands of sport fans present. He received a standing ovation.

The "Atom" was featured several times in the "Believe It or Not" cartoons and the 1976 Guinness Book of World Records. Over the years top Government officials awarded him the Keys to 20 American Cities. He lectured and inspired thousands to better health and strength.

Writers have often titled him as "The World's Biggest Little Man," "The World's Strongest Haired Man." A man whose hair could hold back roaring airplanes. He once was shot between the eyes with a .38 - 40 caliber revolver -- he walked out of the hospital the same day.

All this was more amazing because he only measured five foot, four inches tall and weighed in at 145 pounds.

Though these strange as it seems incidents sound like the creation of a fiction writer, they are but a few of the incredible but true documented facts in Ed Spielman's book "The Mighty Atom, Biography of A Superhuman, The Life and Times of Joseph L. Greenstein."

On October 8th, 1977 another great chapter in the history of the Iron Game concluded with the passing of Joe Greenstein "The Mighty Atom." His shining star will be forever in the history of the Iron Game

[PKO101]

hum i have to say ive never even hear of this person at all. I dont think they tought about this guy in high school at least as far as i know. tell me more.

He passed away almost 30 years ago. Besides, schools do not teach this type of thing. Slim "The Hammer Man" Farman has video's and books on his training as a strongman in the tradition of "The Mighty Atom", but he is also well into his seventies now.

[PKO101]

Ed Spielman
The Viking Press - New York 1979




I wish to thank the following people for their kind cooperation assistance: The Greenstein family, Cathy Bardram, Rancial I . Bassett, Victor Boff, Mrs. William L. Champion, George Dillnmii. Mollie Cohen Greenstein, John Grimek, Naraki Hara, Lew Horn. Jesse Kahn, Esq., Charles Kornhaber, R. E. Liebmann, Mario. Gel Socorro S. Martinez, Theron K. Rinehart, Irving Shapiro, AK Shenkman, Al Spielman, Sam Spielman, and Andrew Yelaney. Special thanks to: my brother, Howard Spielman; Lawrence "Slim the Hammer Man" Farman; my literary agent, Peter Lainpack; and friend and colleague of long standing, Howard D. Friedlander; Alan Williams of The Viking Press, for his insight and invaluable assistance.

PROLOGUE

In the days of the amusement palaces, when Coney Island was the playground of the world, the crowds stood twenty deep several times a day to watch the last of the great strongmen perform the impossible. My family were often among the spellbound. My grandparents ,Jacoh and Jennie Shapiro had made the transition from poverty on New York's Lower East Side to Coney Island, an enclave of working-man's luxury where hot and cold fresh and salt water was piped into the apartments. On Sundays Jacob, a gentle huar of a man, with his daughter Harriet on one hand and son Irving on the other, stood transfixed as the Mighty Atom performed his wonders. In earliest childhood I had been told by my family about this man; later, I believed him to be an exaggeration long lost in the dim past.



I first met the Mighty Atom at a martial arts show in Madison Square Garden. I was one of the featured guests, having created the Kung Fu television series which sparked the Kung Fu craze of the 1970s. I took my bow with David Carradine, some exploitation actors, and sundry exhibitionists before an audience of eighteen thousand devotees of the Bruce Lee cult. Various martial arts were demonstrated: man nearly cuts his buddy's genitalia off with an m itation samurai sword. Applause. Two-hundred-twenty-pound man beats a 120-pound woman unconscious. More applause.

Then the old man appeared and walked up past the ring apron. His white hair flowed down to his shoulders; his brown leather tunic bore a gold Star of David. He looked like a living Maccabee. He was a short man, only 5 feet 4'2 inches, but broad; in his strongman's costume he was a miniature Samson.

The crowd watched in silence as he bent horseshoes with his bare hands and bars of steel across the bridge of his nose, exploded chains with the expansion of his chest, and drove spikes through planks w metal-covered wood with nothing more than the power of his palm. Then the crowd came to its feet, and with good reason. This man was eighty-two years old. A half century after my grandfather had first seen him, I sat ringside, watching the strongman. I could hardly believe that Joseph "the Mighty Atom" Greenstein was still alive. As if deposited by a time machine, he stood in the center ring ot Madison Square Garden and seemed to transcend age anci time

It was not sheer animal strength that awed the crowd, but something greater, an inner power. One's eyes were drawn to him; he was ancient, yet vitally alive, a compact boulder of granite that pounding water had washed and smoothed. Somehow, it was his mind that held you, not his body. This was no artifact of dumb muscle, but a man whose intelligence expressed itself in every line of his face.

I decided to visit him backstage, although I harbored no small suspicion. At thirty, I was successful by the standards I had set for myself: but broken promises (always accompanied by porcelain smiles and firm tan handshakes had made me cynical. When a Hollywood screenwriter has had his heart and cinematic vision vandalized a dozen times but is still resolute, he is called a professional. I found myself disaffected with an industry that twists wonderful screenplays into mediocre films. How significant to me was the opening scene of the film Sunset Boulevard, in which the screenwriter is found floating face down in the pool.

And so, in meeting the Mighty Atom, I maintained some reticence. afraid I would discover that he, too, was just another phony spellbinder, another product of show-biz hype. I could not face another disillusionment, confront the paling of another romantic image beside the reality.

I introduced myself. He was gracious, very soft-spoken, and his speech was flavored with the lyrical Yiddish accent of my grandparents. He invited me to his home. When we shook hands, he did so gingerly, as if afraid to crush mine. He had a good left eye; the right was blind and milky white. But that one good eye of crystal blue had the power of a Svengali. A life-force emanated from him, as if he had found the secret, the way to deny old age and death.

Some days later I went to see him. The neighborhood surrounding his brick row house on East Ninety-sixth Street and Rutland Road in Brooklyn was once the heart of a prosperous middle-class community. Now, glass was strewn in the streets and groups of stray dogs ran wild. Those of the old neighborhood had fled, all but one.

He came to the door; his shoulder-length hair was pinned under his skull cap, the powerful chest and wrestler's arms concealed by a shirt and vest. He sported several lapel pins, one a memento presented by the Israel Defense Forces , another a prize for poetry.

He lived in an apartment at the rear of the multifamily house, with no woman to care for him. A wall plaque with the Hebrew word Shalom hung over a kitchen table cluttered with jars of pens, sheaves of Yiddish poems, and mail orders for Mighty Atom products from the one-man health company he had operated for fifty years. His vest matched neither his pants nor the jacket that was draped over the chair. He kept a pair of snow tires in the kitchen, an antique washboard and a fifty-year-old can opener were on the sink, Mighty Atom soap and liniment were in the bathroom.

He intended to sell the house and leave, We went down into the cellar to review the artifacts of a lifetime. Late at night, our only illumination coming from a bare bulb that hung over our heads, we were a pair of archeologists out to excavate his past glories. Rusted lengths of metal hung on an old display board, twisted into corkscrews as if by some uncontrollable force of nature, contorted into curliques like coiled auto springs. He could name the place and year for each object. He smiled when I found the key to the city of Saratoga Springs under a half inch of dust in a remote drawer; it was, he said, one of twenty such keys, and most of the others were destroyed in the great Coney Island fire. Bags of old fan mail sat by vaudeville posters and photos of the Atom in action,

The old man paused to reflect over a beaded bag that had been a favorite of his wife's. Knowing full well that it would end up in the garbage when the next owner arrived, he put it in the "save" box, although he understood that he couldn't take it when he moved to a room in his daughter's house. A rare assortment of stuff: a .32 Smith and Wesson revolver that he had taken from a hooligan in the South of the 1930s, ancient Hebrew books, and others on Jewish history. We finished our treasure hunt after three hours.

The Atom and I talked late into the night. It was a dangerous neighborhood and over my protests he escorted me to my car. Despite my embarrassment I knew he was right: he was the Mighty Atom still.

I came to see him again and again, always with affectionate skepticism, waiting for self-aggrandizement, which never came, and never quite knowing where it would all lead. Days became years. I absorbed the myriad details of his life, though he often glossed over the most fantastic occurrences or feats with a mere nod or wave of his hand. "Is that true, Joe?" I would ask, and inevitably he would smile and, without seeking approbation, reveal printed documentation. He wished to relate his life to me because he knew that his years were growing short, and believed that if it were not all recorded somehow, it would be as if he had never lived it.

This is his story, as he told it to me, buttressed by decades of newspaper and magazine articles, personal interviews with eyewit-nesses, and my own observations and research. I have filled in a line of dialogue here and there, a missing conversation. Of his life, times, and feats I have invented nothing. The story is true.