Here's the story: The place is a hole in the wall, one of those newsstands where a blind guy peddles newspapers, coffee and pastries. The man behind the counter is "Big Jack," not Mr. Jackson or even Gary. No need for formalities or pretense here. The childhood nickname stuck for obvious reasons. Everything about the 45-year-old -- "I'm 6-feet-5 and, proud to say, 282" -- is larger than life.
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