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POSTED: Sunday, Nov. 16, 2008

Fifteen years after historic bout, Malloy still taking on all challenges

Editor's note: On Oct. 30, 1993, Dallas Malloy of Bellingham and Heather Poyner of Ferndale stepped into the boxing ring at Edmonds Community College in Lynnwood for a landmark amateur bout, the result of Malloy's successful lawsuit against USA Boxing. Today, The Bellingham Herald revisits the event and catches up with Malloy and Poyner.

Dallas Malloy stood before the busted-up car and knew she had to change.

She knew a lot about change.

By 15, she knew she could change her name. By 16, she knew she could change the world, scoring a historic victory for a woman's right to box. By 19, she knew she was an alcoholic, standing before the wreck of her first car in a small Oklahoma town wondering what happened to her life.

"I had a typical night of devastating drinking and blacking out," she says. "I wrecked the car. It wasn't the worst drunk I had been. But it was just the accumulation of it all. All the shame, all the embarrassment. Everything was lies."

She took solace in the ability to change.

"It was a new peace, a new hope," Malloy says. "That completely changed my life."

Now, 11 years sober and 15 years after the former Bellingham resident successfully challenged USA Boxing's ban on female amateur competitors and fought in that organization's first sanctioned boxing match between women, Malloy, 31, is poised for another breakthrough. An accomplished bodybuilder and aspiring actress living in Los Angeles, Malloy will appear in a significant guest starring role on the ABC series "Eli Stone" later this winter.

"All the lessons I have learned," Malloy says, "have prepared me for this."

* * *

James Ferguson didn't want to do this.

He had spent a lifetime in and out the ring, competing and training boxers. He knew the fury. Punches fly, blood flows, the weak fall. It's not for everyone.

When the 15-year-old Malloy walked into the cramped basement on 12th Street in Fairhaven in August 1992, the smell of sweat, pain and who knows what else in the air, blood on the floor and pictures of scantily clad women on the walls, Ferguson was apprehensive. He had trained women before, but it seemed relatively pointless. USA Boxing's bylaws were clear: No females can compete in sanctioned amateur matches.

Malloy was undeterred. She would create a place for herself. She would always create.

"She demanded that I give her everything I give to men," Ferguson says. "Once I realized she was one of the people who really wanted to do this, there was no going back."

"She was never one to sit still or be complacent or let life toss her around," says her mother Marilyn Hilton, who lives in Hawaii.

Malloy was already a trained classical pianist, a poet, a novelist. This kind of self-creation, this determined, almost manic, construction of her being, was nothing new for her or those who knew her. Born Jennifer McCleery, she crafted the name Dallas Malloy, taking Malloy from Marlon Brando's character from "On the Waterfront" and Dallas for its genderless suggestions.

"The name gave me a sense of empowerment, a declaration of my independence," Malloy says. "I was creating my identity. I've always had this deep understanding of who I am."

Ferguson saw her passion. She wouldn't go away. She showed promise. She took the beatings.

But the fact remained: Opportunities were limited for women looking to fight in the United States, and non-existent for those seeking to compete as amateurs. While the Women's Boxing Archive Network notes sanctioned amateur bouts occurred in Minnesota in 1978, USA Boxing's ban on females, which the organization said was in place for safety reasons, remained a major roadblock. There had been some recent successes: Canada had lifted its ban on amateur women's boxing, and a Massachusetts woman had successfully sued that state's governing body in 1992 before deciding to compete professionally.

Malloy turned to the American Civil Liberties Union. The group saw discrimination, referred her to attorney Suzanne Thomas of the Seattle firm Graham & Dunn and a lawsuit against USA Boxing was filed. In March of 1993, U.S. District Court Judge Barbara Rothstein ruled in favor of Malloy, granting an injunction that paved the way for Malloy to enter the ring. The case never made it to trial, and USA Boxing soon implemented the basis of its women's program.

A fight - USA Boxing's first sanctioned female bout - was on. Malloy faced Heather Poyner, a 21-year-old from Ferndale whom Ferguson also would train, on Oct. 30, 1993, at Edmonds Community College in Lynnwood.

The hype grew. The global media wanted a piece of the story. Ferguson's answering machine swelled with inquiries. NBC's "Dateline" aired a feature.

It was chaotic, yet Malloy remained focused. In the moments before the bout, in the dressing room with security personnel nearby, Ferguson frantically scurrying about and the crowd buzzing, Malloy sat calmly, patiently awaiting her time.

"It was almost like it was pre-ordained," says Ferguson, who still lives in Bellingham.

Poyner did her best to suggest otherwise, aggressively connecting with jabs early. But Malloy's flurry of punches - including a powerful second-round uppercut that prompted the referee to give Poyner a standing eight-count - helped her gain the advantage in the three-round event. Malloy was awarded a 5-0 decision.

Then it was over. A movie was in the works. Malloy and Ferguson drifted apart. Malloy announced her retirement in July 1994.

"I did that and it's done," Malloy said at the time. "I go through phases of things. There's so many things to do. I just get bored with things fast."

* * *

The spotlight didn't dim. Malloy moved to Los Angeles, appeared as herself in the film "Jerry Maguire" and focused on developing her story for the screen.

But problems followed. The curse of many creative souls, she drank, she smoked, she drugged.

A father regrets.

"There's alcoholism in our family," says Jim McCleery, who now lives in Oak Harbor. "Early on, I probably didn't notice it as much as I should have. Her involvement in alcohol and drugs kind of fit in with that risk-taking end of things. Maybe early on maybe I was in denial. I probably wasn't there for her as much I wish I had been."

A year after arriving in Los Angeles, her story no closer to the big screen, Malloy sought refuge with a friend in Ardmore, Okla.

"I moved out there as a geographical cure," she says. "I never had denial about my alcoholism. I thought things would get better."

In many ways, things did. Having dropped out of Sehome High School, she earned her high school diploma. She gained certification in naturopathic medicine at Hallmark Naturopath College in Sulphur, Okla., and even ran a natural medicine store for a while. She dabbled in acting, performing in a play.

But as she continued to create, she faced - and embraced - her destruction.

On Jan. 14, 1997, after a night of drinking led to a blackout and the destruction of her first car, Malloy sought help. Creation, after all, is nothing without preservation.

"I had explored recovery before," she says. "I wasn't ready, but seeds were planted. I was operating from the inside this time."

"Alcohol is just a symptom of the disease," she says. "Most alcoholics are talented and intelligent. Logic doesn't have a place. That drives alcoholics crazy. It's a horrible thing to live with. It's part of the way I'm wired. If I wasn't this compulsive, would I still be who I am? Would I have so many challenges? Why would I care if I was driven by such an undeniable passion?"

She fights.

"This is something that will never be over," she says. "I still have to deal with the way my mind works. It's fabulous and terrible. As long as I do the work necessary and in balance, things will work out."

* * *

On her right shoulder, a tattooed chameleon rests underneath the word "Cambio," Spanish for change. Always changing, always evolving.

Malloy returned to Los Angeles in 2004. The transformation continues.

"I had to begin something new and rediscover the things I loved," she says.

Inspired by Linda Hamilton's buff physique in "Terminator 2: Judgment Day," Malloy's fascination with bodybuilding's emphasis on intense perfection has driven her to earn competitive recognition.

At the 2006 NPC Junior California Bodybuilding & Figure Championships, Malloy took second place in the unlimited women's division and first place in the collegiate division. At the same competition a year later, she captured first place in the amateur women's division and was named Best Poser. A few weeks later at the Mr. And Ms. Muscle Beach Bodybuilding & Figure Championships, she claimed second in the women's heavyweight division.

"My body is a symbol of overcoming obstacles, the challenges in my life," she says. "To be a living statue is the ultimate goal."

To be the ultimate performer on another stage isn't far behind.

Studying acting at the Atwater Playhouse and Method Acting School in Los Angeles, Malloy has appeared in a number of theater productions and quickly impressed her mentors by drawing on her life experiences.

"She has the willingness to learn. That's one of things that keeps people from being able to move forward as artists," says school founder Jamie Paolinetti. "Dallas is not afraid to visit some of the more complex and deep-seated issues about sexuality and about her own challenges in life. That makes her a very castable actor. You have to be able to fillet yourself open as an actor. Many actors won't take that step."

It drives her."She wants to earn success," Jim McCleery says. "She doesn't want it handed to her. She's realistic of the difficulties of achievement. Ultimately if you strive, you must fail. That keeps her humble."

That approach worked as Malloy landed a part on the ABC comedy-drama "Eli Stone" for an episode tentatively scheduled to air Jan. 6. In the episode titled "Two Ministers," Malloy will portray a transgendered Methodist minister who turns to the show's lawyer characters for help after being fired from the church when it is learned that the clergyman was once a woman.

"From the moment I heard about this role, I felt comfortable," she says. "I owned this role. For other reasons, he's a spiritual person. His work is about helping others. And then there's these people who aren't going to let him do it because of their insecurities and fears. This is an issue that makes people question. Gender is complex. We're all unique. Uniqueness makes us interesting. It's nothing to be feared. Just because someone doesn't understand it doesn't make it wrong."

For a life so far removed from the spotlight, Malloy relishes its quiet return.

"I'm so comfortable ... I was born for this," she says. "It's stressful and taxing and intense. I have so many experiences I can draw on. I can handle it. There's nothing like theater training. There's no second takes. You have to keep growing."

FROM THE HERALD ARCHIVES Click on the links below to read coverage from 1993-94 about Dallas Malloy's history-making boxing match.

City boxer wins bout about gender

Diary: Malloy anxious to enter ring for first time

Malloy wins historic decision

Bout enters history books

Bellingham's Dallas Malloy opts to retire from sport she fought to enter