| Greg Sushinsky Bodybuilding Fitness, Nutrition & Health |
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| Excerpt from: Heart of Steel The Dan Lurie Story by Dan Lurie with David Robson |
A love for the movies and entertainment is something I have always had. Throughout my life I
have performed on one stage or another, but my first real break came through, you guessed it:
ice cream. It was in 1938 while selling ice cream at the Yiddish Theater on Irvine Place and East
14th Street that I made my stage debut. During one of the performances the child who normally
played the baby in a carriage got a stomach-ache. I happened to be there at the time so the
director, out of desperation, draped a white sheet around me while two stagehands folded me
to fit the carriage. At 15, I played the baby. Thereafter, they would call on me to play small parts
whenever there was an emergency. Although hardly the stuff of Hollywood superstardom, it did
spark an interest in performance that would last a lifetime.
Around the time of my “debut” I would attend all of the latest movies. We would pay a dime to
see a double-feature movie, a couple of short films, news and a cartoon. My hero at this time
was an actor named George Brent. He was a good-looking, daring type who had the most
amazing voice – very deep and powerful. Characters who had power and strength always
impressed me. Tarzan was one of them and I would watch him in the chapter films. Each week
he would find himself in some type of high-pressure situation just before the segment would
end. He would be about to go over a waterfall and we would all be on the edge of our sets
waiting - then we would be informed that we could find out the ending next time. We would all be
left wondering what would happen next, which, of course, had us coming back the following
week for the next episode. During the next instalment Cheetah the Chimp would throw Tarzan a
vine and we were back into another gripping adventure. During these times my mind would
often get caught up in fantastic adventure. I imagined myself as the hero, strong and powerful,
ready to save the day. I suppose all young men have these kinds of fantasies, but mine were so
vivid it was as if I was in fact living my dream. They would eventually lead me to heroic
performance of a kind I had never seen, much less considered during those young
years.
From an early age I developed a liking for physical strength. The feeling it gave me and the fact it
helped me to win at sport was enough to convince me to push my muscular limits in the hopes
of gaining more of it. I particularly enjoyed, and became good at, gymnastics, Ping-Pong and
badminton. At high school, I developed my athletic skills to such a degree that I became the only
student ever at Tilden High School, possibly even in U.S. history, to graduate with a perfect
score for physical education at that school. Along with this distinction I received the George F.
Wingate medal for outstanding athlete.
The year was 1936 and I was well on my way to becoming a sports star. But what sport would I
choose? That was the question I asked as I worked away at achieving perfection in tumbles,
push-ups, running - whatever. I would say my school years were a time where my physical side
overtook my studies. At this time my mind was focused on achieving sporting success rather
than academic excellence, though I did become skilled at checkers, winning the New York State
High School Checkers Championship’s, and did win the Tilden High Spanish Medal thanks my
sister Jean’s help. My Uncle Morris Rosenberg taught me how to play checkers. From the age of
ten I would spend many hours with Uncle Morris, a master checkers player, and he would show
me all the traps and positions and how to make all the right moves - I would go on to beat him
several times. At 13 I won the teenage division at the 1936 New York State Checker
Championship’s. My success with checkers placed me in the pro category for this game and if I
had to, I would rate myself on a scale of one to ten, as an eight-to-nine pro player. To this day I
credit the game for providing me with a good business mind - it made strategic thinking much
easier.
At age13, my character was further tested. At this time I must have weighed 100 pounds
soaking wet and I would walk to PS 115 in Canarsie, Brooklyn, very underdeveloped and an
easy target for bullies. Every so often I would see this boy, Raymond, across the street from
where I was walking. Raymond, who would have outweighed me by at least 40 pounds and who
stood a good five inches taller, would cross the street and follow me before attacking me with
punch after punch. This went on for about one year. I would try to walk a different way to school
each time, but again he would spot me. Running was no help. He always caught me and the
beatings took a more sinister tone each time, almost as if he was punishing me for trying to
escape. I always tried to avoid him, but it did no good. I remember one time telling myself to
stand up and fight, to hit him hard. But no matter what I did Raymond always got the better of
me. Fortunately this all stopped when I entered Tilden High School, but the memories stuck with
me for many years. As I grew, so too did my strength. At the age of 14 I began boxing at P.S. 115
before joining a pro boxing club called Ferkie’s - where all the top fighters in my area trained -
several years later. I too became a good fighter, gaining skills I would love to have had back
when Raymond used to beat me. When I trained as a boxer, and later as a bodybuilder, I would
picture Raymond in my mind and swear to some day get even with this “coward”, this “poor
excuse for a person”. I would say to myself that one day I would catch Raymond and beat the
hell out of him and the tables would be turned. 30 years passed and I had grown to a
bodyweight of 220 pounds solid muscle. I was in my early-40s and running several businesses
at once. One day a man came into one of my fitness showrooms with his son and asked about
buying a barbell set for his kid. He looked familiar. “Is your name Raymond and did you once
live on East 98 Street,” I asked. “Yes,” he replied, and I knew instantly it was the Raymond who
used to beat me up. At that very moment, all of those years of accumulated anger overcame me.
I could feel my heartbeat rise and my adrenaline soar. Placing my hands behind my back I
clenched my fists. I was ready. Finally it was my turn to get even. The moment I had waited many
years for had arrived and there was no holding back. But instead of sending him flying I looked
him in the eye, unclasped my hands, and gave him a big hug and cried. “Why did you follow me
and beat me Raymond,” I asked. He apologized and said he was just a stupid kid at the time. At
that moment I felt a great release of pressure and the weight of 30 years of anger melt inside
me.
Upon entering Tilden High School, my life took at different direction. Where at Canarsie
Elementary School my grades were very good overall – low-90s on average - at Tilden they
became less of a concern. The subjects at high school were different and, by comparison, more
difficult for me. This is not to say my time there was not productive. My sporting success shows
it was. I even made friends with several of the teachers and got along fine with almost everyone
I met. But my grades would drop to the point where I even flunked math and Spanish in my first
year. Poor academic performance in my first year aside, my time at Tilden proved an important
turning point in my life.
My first real exposure to a sport that required great strength came when I began training in
gymnastics. I would workout with six other students on the parallel and high bars. My skills and
strength quickly improved to the point where I would beat my fellow gymnasts on all disciplines.
When I won the George F. Wingate medal for outstanding athlete I was told that I was the only
non-football and basketball-playing student to ever achieve such an honor. Although my
gymnastics performance was an important step toward getting this award, my overall academic
record for physical education - 100 percent for each of the eight semesters I participated in
physical education – sealed the deal. This also showed me that with strength of mind and
determination, anything is possible.
In my first year at Tilden, physical development became very important to me and I loved gym
class, as it would give me the opportunity to improve my body. It was fun for me, recreation
almost. In my very first gym class I overheard my gym teacher saying, “if everyone did push-ups
like that fellow over there, they would get very strong. If he continues the way he is going I will
give him 100 percent for the entire semester.” When I realized he was talking about me I
sprinted across to him and with much eagerness said, “100 percent, what do I have to do to
achieve 100 percent?” The teacher told me I would need to get 100 percent on all tests and not
miss a class. For four years I did not miss a single class and, with a disciplined mind that
would help me to reach even greater heights in later years, came out on top in all that was
asked of me.
The quest to become Tilden’s top athlete, along with the many street games I played during my
younger years occupied hours of my time and helped to take my mind off the poverty I
experienced. Though my childhood years were fun, and us kids had what we needed like food,
a roof over our heads and the love of our parents, a level of desperation on the part of both my
parents was a constant part of our family life. Although my father ran his furniture-removal
business, money was extremely tight. When I was six my family, like all families on our street,
experienced the 1929 stock-market crash. The after-effects were devastating. Large numbers of
men found themselves out of work and those who did work could hardly make ends meet, due
to a lack of demand for their business.
have performed on one stage or another, but my first real break came through, you guessed it:
ice cream. It was in 1938 while selling ice cream at the Yiddish Theater on Irvine Place and East
14th Street that I made my stage debut. During one of the performances the child who normally
played the baby in a carriage got a stomach-ache. I happened to be there at the time so the
director, out of desperation, draped a white sheet around me while two stagehands folded me
to fit the carriage. At 15, I played the baby. Thereafter, they would call on me to play small parts
whenever there was an emergency. Although hardly the stuff of Hollywood superstardom, it did
spark an interest in performance that would last a lifetime.
Around the time of my “debut” I would attend all of the latest movies. We would pay a dime to
see a double-feature movie, a couple of short films, news and a cartoon. My hero at this time
was an actor named George Brent. He was a good-looking, daring type who had the most
amazing voice – very deep and powerful. Characters who had power and strength always
impressed me. Tarzan was one of them and I would watch him in the chapter films. Each week
he would find himself in some type of high-pressure situation just before the segment would
end. He would be about to go over a waterfall and we would all be on the edge of our sets
waiting - then we would be informed that we could find out the ending next time. We would all be
left wondering what would happen next, which, of course, had us coming back the following
week for the next episode. During the next instalment Cheetah the Chimp would throw Tarzan a
vine and we were back into another gripping adventure. During these times my mind would
often get caught up in fantastic adventure. I imagined myself as the hero, strong and powerful,
ready to save the day. I suppose all young men have these kinds of fantasies, but mine were so
vivid it was as if I was in fact living my dream. They would eventually lead me to heroic
performance of a kind I had never seen, much less considered during those young
years.
From an early age I developed a liking for physical strength. The feeling it gave me and the fact it
helped me to win at sport was enough to convince me to push my muscular limits in the hopes
of gaining more of it. I particularly enjoyed, and became good at, gymnastics, Ping-Pong and
badminton. At high school, I developed my athletic skills to such a degree that I became the only
student ever at Tilden High School, possibly even in U.S. history, to graduate with a perfect
score for physical education at that school. Along with this distinction I received the George F.
Wingate medal for outstanding athlete.
The year was 1936 and I was well on my way to becoming a sports star. But what sport would I
choose? That was the question I asked as I worked away at achieving perfection in tumbles,
push-ups, running - whatever. I would say my school years were a time where my physical side
overtook my studies. At this time my mind was focused on achieving sporting success rather
than academic excellence, though I did become skilled at checkers, winning the New York State
High School Checkers Championship’s, and did win the Tilden High Spanish Medal thanks my
sister Jean’s help. My Uncle Morris Rosenberg taught me how to play checkers. From the age of
ten I would spend many hours with Uncle Morris, a master checkers player, and he would show
me all the traps and positions and how to make all the right moves - I would go on to beat him
several times. At 13 I won the teenage division at the 1936 New York State Checker
Championship’s. My success with checkers placed me in the pro category for this game and if I
had to, I would rate myself on a scale of one to ten, as an eight-to-nine pro player. To this day I
credit the game for providing me with a good business mind - it made strategic thinking much
easier.
At age13, my character was further tested. At this time I must have weighed 100 pounds
soaking wet and I would walk to PS 115 in Canarsie, Brooklyn, very underdeveloped and an
easy target for bullies. Every so often I would see this boy, Raymond, across the street from
where I was walking. Raymond, who would have outweighed me by at least 40 pounds and who
stood a good five inches taller, would cross the street and follow me before attacking me with
punch after punch. This went on for about one year. I would try to walk a different way to school
each time, but again he would spot me. Running was no help. He always caught me and the
beatings took a more sinister tone each time, almost as if he was punishing me for trying to
escape. I always tried to avoid him, but it did no good. I remember one time telling myself to
stand up and fight, to hit him hard. But no matter what I did Raymond always got the better of
me. Fortunately this all stopped when I entered Tilden High School, but the memories stuck with
me for many years. As I grew, so too did my strength. At the age of 14 I began boxing at P.S. 115
before joining a pro boxing club called Ferkie’s - where all the top fighters in my area trained -
several years later. I too became a good fighter, gaining skills I would love to have had back
when Raymond used to beat me. When I trained as a boxer, and later as a bodybuilder, I would
picture Raymond in my mind and swear to some day get even with this “coward”, this “poor
excuse for a person”. I would say to myself that one day I would catch Raymond and beat the
hell out of him and the tables would be turned. 30 years passed and I had grown to a
bodyweight of 220 pounds solid muscle. I was in my early-40s and running several businesses
at once. One day a man came into one of my fitness showrooms with his son and asked about
buying a barbell set for his kid. He looked familiar. “Is your name Raymond and did you once
live on East 98 Street,” I asked. “Yes,” he replied, and I knew instantly it was the Raymond who
used to beat me up. At that very moment, all of those years of accumulated anger overcame me.
I could feel my heartbeat rise and my adrenaline soar. Placing my hands behind my back I
clenched my fists. I was ready. Finally it was my turn to get even. The moment I had waited many
years for had arrived and there was no holding back. But instead of sending him flying I looked
him in the eye, unclasped my hands, and gave him a big hug and cried. “Why did you follow me
and beat me Raymond,” I asked. He apologized and said he was just a stupid kid at the time. At
that moment I felt a great release of pressure and the weight of 30 years of anger melt inside
me.
Upon entering Tilden High School, my life took at different direction. Where at Canarsie
Elementary School my grades were very good overall – low-90s on average - at Tilden they
became less of a concern. The subjects at high school were different and, by comparison, more
difficult for me. This is not to say my time there was not productive. My sporting success shows
it was. I even made friends with several of the teachers and got along fine with almost everyone
I met. But my grades would drop to the point where I even flunked math and Spanish in my first
year. Poor academic performance in my first year aside, my time at Tilden proved an important
turning point in my life.
My first real exposure to a sport that required great strength came when I began training in
gymnastics. I would workout with six other students on the parallel and high bars. My skills and
strength quickly improved to the point where I would beat my fellow gymnasts on all disciplines.
When I won the George F. Wingate medal for outstanding athlete I was told that I was the only
non-football and basketball-playing student to ever achieve such an honor. Although my
gymnastics performance was an important step toward getting this award, my overall academic
record for physical education - 100 percent for each of the eight semesters I participated in
physical education – sealed the deal. This also showed me that with strength of mind and
determination, anything is possible.
In my first year at Tilden, physical development became very important to me and I loved gym
class, as it would give me the opportunity to improve my body. It was fun for me, recreation
almost. In my very first gym class I overheard my gym teacher saying, “if everyone did push-ups
like that fellow over there, they would get very strong. If he continues the way he is going I will
give him 100 percent for the entire semester.” When I realized he was talking about me I
sprinted across to him and with much eagerness said, “100 percent, what do I have to do to
achieve 100 percent?” The teacher told me I would need to get 100 percent on all tests and not
miss a class. For four years I did not miss a single class and, with a disciplined mind that
would help me to reach even greater heights in later years, came out on top in all that was
asked of me.
The quest to become Tilden’s top athlete, along with the many street games I played during my
younger years occupied hours of my time and helped to take my mind off the poverty I
experienced. Though my childhood years were fun, and us kids had what we needed like food,
a roof over our heads and the love of our parents, a level of desperation on the part of both my
parents was a constant part of our family life. Although my father ran his furniture-removal
business, money was extremely tight. When I was six my family, like all families on our street,
experienced the 1929 stock-market crash. The after-effects were devastating. Large numbers of
men found themselves out of work and those who did work could hardly make ends meet, due
to a lack of demand for their business.
| Dan Lurie, age 19 |
| Dan's 5 girls: left to right Daughters: Jill, Sandy, Rochelle, Andrea and wife Thelma |
| Dan Lurie and President Ronald Reagan arm wrestling in the Oval Office |
| Dan at 85 ½. October 2008 |
| David Robson |
| Train and Gain Online With my Online Personal Training Service you can achieve your health, fitness and bodybuilding goals with individualized programs, extensive follow-up E-mail consultations and regular online contact with myself. From anywhere in the world I can be your trainer, guiding you to success with expert advice based on years of experience in the health and fitness industry. Regular contact with myself will ensure you are continually on track to building the body of your dreams. |