Images of Jimmy Breslin

by Raj Tawney

Forty years ago, in 1986, newspaper columnist Jimmy Breslin won the Pulitzer Prize for Commentary on the strength of “columns which consistently champion ordinary citizens.” Highlights from that year’s Daily News pieces submitted for the award included Breslin’s groundbreaking profile of David Camacho, a young man with AIDS whose poignant and humanizing portrayal did much to alter public perception of the crisis; the story of the brutal, racially motivated torture of eighteen-year-old Mark Davidson by the NYPD; and Breslin’s relatively isolated stance against Bernhard Goetz, the “Subway Vigilante” who was praised by the tabloid media after shooting four young Black men.

Did Breslin deserve the Pulitzer that year? You’d better believe it. But more than a one-off accolade, the prize was an acknowledgement of Breslin’s nearly four decades in the newspaper business and his unparalleled verve in telling the truth about the everyday people of New York and the powerful figures—politicians, police, corporate titans—who loomed over their lives.

Jimmy Breslin: Essential Writings

As a kid growing up on Long Island in the 1990s, I recall opening my father’s Newsday and seeing Breslin’s column. Initially, I read him for his plainspoken and streetwise writing style, and it would be years before I grasped the full weight of the issues he addressed. More than other columnists, he spoke directly to people like my family and me: working- and middle-class New Yorkers, many of them immigrants, who lacked a voice in society and needed someone to speak on their behalf and keep those with power in check.

Over the years, I became curious about the man who popped up in the opening shot of Spike Lee’s Summer of Sam, inspiring me to dig deeper into Breslin’s role in capturing the .44 Caliber Killer, David Berkowitz. I also got my hands on a beat-up copy of The World of Jimmy Breslin, a collection of his earlier columns from the New York Herald Tribune, where I discovered his vivid sports coverage, his on-the-ground reporting during the civil rights movement, and his legendary profile of the man who dug John F. Kennedy’s grave in Arlington Cemetery—a piece that anticipated the New Journalism soon to follow. It seemed that wherever history was being made, Breslin was on the scene. A Queens native who lived in the borough for much of his working life, he was a man of the people: fearless, compassionate, wickedly funny, and observant.

Though the encounter was hurtful, I thought, as it was happening, ‘What would Jimmy Breslin do?’

Like many writers who have studied Breslin, whether dissecting his words in the classroom or relishing his columns on disposable newsprint over breakfast, I too felt the need to speak the truth through reporting, commentary, and accounts of personal experience. Exploring culture, class, age, and racial gaps through essays and journalism, I often placed myself in the middle of the story, as Breslin did in his columns. I didn’t mind becoming a subject in my pieces if it meant making a broader statement and standing by my convictions.

Watch: Dan Barry, Mike Barnicle, and Mike Lupica on the time they met Jimmy Breslin

Late last year, I found myself in a confrontation with bigoted man while traveling in California. Though the encounter was hurtful, I thought, as it was happening, “What would Jimmy Breslin do?” Surely, the legendary journalist would have seen the situation through to the end. While his approach may have differed from mine, we both put a premium on getting the story and living to tell it. At first, I was so upset by the conflict that I wasn’t even sure if I wanted to write about it. But as I considered the readers the story might benefit, writing it became a kind of catharsis.

When the piece was published in the San Francisco Chronicle in December 2025, the volume of supportive responses—from inspired students to suburban moms to a Hispanic Vietnam War veteran who had faced racism in the late ’70s, around the same time my own father arrived in the United States—overwhelmed me. I realized then that the power of telling the truth, even if it’s difficult and unpleasant, can make a positive difference—especially if the story is speaking up for underdogs. I learned that from Breslin’s work, too: he was an underdog, and I’m damn proud to be one, too.

Campaign button for the Norman Mailer–Jimmy Breslin 51st State ticket in 1969 (CC BY 3.0) and Breslin at an event for New York City mayor John Lindsay circa 1970 (Bernard Gotfryd / Library of Congress)

Raj Tawney is the author of Colorful Palate: A Flavorful Journey Through a Mixed American Experience and All Mixed Up. He’s written about identity, family, food, and culture from his multiracial American perspective for The New York Times, the Washington Post, the San Francisco Chronicle, and many other outlets around the country. He is currently working on an essay collection.