Early 20th Century New York City -- Brooklyn History
Early 20th Century New York City. Photo via Smithsonian Magazine.

Read Part 1, Part 2, Part 4, Part 5, and Part 6 of this story.

“Professor” Mac Levy, born Max Levy, of Brooklyn, was a self-made man, and one of America’s first fitness entrepreneurs. At the turn of the 20th century, he had made quite a name for himself in New York City and Long Island, and was building his fitness empire, ready to expand to wherever the market led him.

As a puny and sickly teenager, he had decided he wouldn’t live that way, and through diet and exercise, especially swimming, calisthenics and weight lifting, he had built himself up into a healthy and strong young man; billed on the vaudeville and speaking circuits as a “young Hercules” and “Brooklyn’s Perfect Man.”

He spent years building up his business by building himself. He was an advocate for healthy living, and coached a curious and eager public through his speaking engagements, vaudeville appearances and through his health clubs.

He ran the first gymnasium and health club at the prestigious Hotel St. George in Brooklyn Heights. He also ran summer health clubs at beach resorts in Babylon, Long Island and at Bath Beach, Brooklyn. Other locations followed, as did books, and a line of fitness equipment.

Chapter One of our story details some of his operations and his early days. Chapter Two continues the story of his career, including the would-be mugging on New Year’s Day, 1897, that propelled him into the limelight as a man who take care of himself, with gusto.

But for all of the young Professor’s personal and business successes, none of them could propel his name into the history books like his involvement in one of the most sensational murder cases of the early 20th century.

In September of 1902, on a Thursday morning, a man named Joseph Pulitzer entered the police station on West 47th Street in Manhattan to report that his wife Anna was missing. She was 22 years old, slender and very pretty, with straw colored hair.

Pulitzer told the police that he had come home to their rented boarding house rooms on West 47th St. late the night before. He told the police that he was a district captain of his ward, and had been up late that night because it was primary night, and he was at the polling place. He said his wife went out to buy him some dinner, but never returned.

Anna Pulitzer had gone out, her husband said, wearing a dark skirt, a velvet blouse with polka dots, a black hat, and her diamond earrings.

He said that she had other pieces of jewelry on when he came home, but she had taken them off because she was going out, and didn’t want to attract thieves. He was worried because she never came home. He did not tell police why he waited until the next day to go to them. They issued a report, and the search for Mrs. Pulitzer was on.

Two days after that, the nude body of a young woman washed up on shore in the Morris Canal Cut, between the Hackensack and Passaic Rivers, on the outskirts of Jersey City. The coroner determined that she had been dead since Wednesday night, and had been in the water for at least 12 hours.

It was Anna Pulitzer, and she had been most foully murdered. Her body had a deep cut in the abdomen, which was initially said to be the cause of death. She also had a weight of some kind tied to a rope around her waist, but it hadn’t been heavy enough to keep her body down.

In the days that followed, more details came out. A Newark livery stable reported that a horse and light wagon had been hired the night of the murder, but had never been returned.

The name and address of the hire were quickly proven to have been nonexistent. The man who had rented it matched the general description of Joseph Pulitzer, so police picked him up, while looking for more witnesses. They also began looking into the Pulitzer’s backgrounds to find some motive for the crime.

It was quickly determined that Anna and Joseph Pulitzer were not just an innocent young couple. Anna was well known in the neighborhood as a good-time girl, and a part-time lady of the evening.

Her husband wasn’t home very much, and her landlady said that Anna often had gentlemen callers. Well-dressed, jewel-laden and quite pretty, she also solicited prosperous looking men on the street. She had been picked up by the police on several occasions.

Her husband feigned innocence about her activities, but the police weren’t buying that, either. He had some shady goings on, but that would have to wait.

In his wife’s murder case, it was soon proved that he had nothing to do with her murder. Witnesses to the renting of the wagon, and others positively eliminated him as the man who had rented the rig, or passed through the bridge tolls. The search was still on for Anna’s killer.

The police began putting the story of Anna’s last hours together. She had been seen on the street that Wednesday night. A baker at 47th and 7th Ave. reported that she had purchased several rolls from him around midnight and she was carrying the bag of bread when she left his store.

He saw her stop and talk to a man in the street. Other witnesses also reported seeing her stop and talk to a man, and then walk uptown with him to a cab stand. Further investigation found the livery cab that had taken them to 58th Street and 6th Avenue, a block from Central Park. The man was described as young, handsome, and well-dressed.

Meanwhile, New York City detectives on the case were contacted by the Newark Police. The missing livery stable’s horse and wagon had been found. The renter had returned it the next day to the stable. But the wagon’s hitching weight, more or less an anchor for the wagon, was missing.

It was the same weight that had been found on Anna’s body. The clues were all coming together. This wagon had definitely transported Anna Pulitzer’s body to the water. Now they just needed to find the man who had rented it, and they would have their murderer.

The stableman, a man named Evans, told police that he had reported the rig stolen when the renter did not return it when he said he would. He had rented it for just a few hours. But the next day, after filing the report, the renter had returned with the horse and wagon.

He never left his name, and told Evans that he didn’t have enough money to pay for the overtime. But, he told Evans, he worked for The Crusader, a newspaper, and he would return with the money and he could be trusted. Evans had no choice but to take him at his word. At least he had his rig back.

The police took Mr. Evans to the offices of The Crusader. They described the young man to the editor, but no one matching that description currently worked there. The editor’s face brightened.

He went to his desk and pulled out a photograph of the entire staff that had been taken a few months before. He asked if the buggy renter was in the picture. Evans looked, and pointed to a young man in the photo.

“That’s him!” he exclaimed. “I’d know him anywhere.” The editor was shocked. “That’s Bill Young,” he said. “He owned the paper with his partner Dick Anzer, up until a few months ago, when they sold it.”

The police found Dick Anzer, and he told them that the two had purchased the paper, but the arrangement hadn’t worked out. They had sold it months later, and parted ways. He didn’t know where Bill lived. He did know that lately, Bill had been working in Brooklyn at the St. George Hotel.

He was in the employ of Professor Mac Levy, the famous physical culturist. Oh, and Bill’s full name was William Hooper Young. You might have heard of his grandfather. He was Brigham Young, the powerful leader of the Mormon Church in Salt Lake City.

Next: The story continues. Professor Mac Levy was in the middle of the murder case of the year. What did he tell police? Did the police capture Young, and did he stand trial? Did the troubled grandson of Mormon leader Brigham Young kill the beautiful young Anna Pulitzer? If so, what was his motive? How did he do it? How did Professor Mac Levy figure in the case? Would Young’s powerful family be able to exert their influence in the case? The rest of the story, next time.

(Photograph: Early 20th century New York City. Smithsonian Magazine)


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