For over a year, between May 1918 and October 1919, the city of New Orleans, Louisiana, was gripped by widespread terror at the hands of a mysterious serial killer known as the Axeman of New Orleans. This enigmatic figure, whose brutal attacks targeted primarily Italian-American grocers and their families, left a trail of bloodshed and an enduring legacy of fear.
The Initial Reign of Terror: 1918
The horrific spree of the New Orleans Axeman began on May 23, 1918, with the brutal murder of Joseph Maggio and his wife, Catherine. The couple, an Italian grocer and his spouse, were found in their apartment above their store, their throats slit with a straight razor and their heads bashed in with an ax. Investigators noted the killer had changed clothes at the scene, leaving his bloodied garments behind, and had deliberately left money and valuables untouched, ruling out robbery as the primary motive. A cryptic chalk message near their home, “Mrs. Joseph Maggio will sit up tonight. Just write Mrs. Toney,” offered little immediate insight, and initial suspects were quickly released.
A little over a month later, on June 27, 1918, grocer Louis Besumer and his mistress Harriet Lowe were attacked in similar fashion. Discovered in a pool of blood, Besumer suffered an ax blow above his right temple, while Lowe was severely hacked above her left ear. Both survived the initial assault, but the incident drew public attention not only for its brutality but also for the “scandal” of their living arrangement. Harriet Lowe, before succumbing to her injuries after surgery on August 7, implicated Besumer, leading to his arrest and a nine-month prison stay before his eventual acquittal in May 1919.
The attacks continued with unnerving regularity. On August 5, Mrs. Edward Schneider, eight months pregnant, was brutally assaulted in her bed, waking to a dark figure repeatedly striking her face. Her husband found her with a deeply cut scalp and bloodied face, but miraculously, she survived and gave birth to a healthy baby girl two days later. Just five days later, on August 10, elderly grocer Joseph Ramano was attacked. His two nieces witnessed the assailant fleeing after delivering a fatal blow to their uncle’s head. Ramano died two days later, but his nieces provided a brief description: a dark-skinned, heavy-set man in a dark suit and slouched hat.
Across these early crimes, distinct patterns emerged, cementing the link to a single perpetrator. The scenes were often ransacked, yet nothing of value was ever stolen. The assailant consistently used the victims’ own axes or hatchets, and entry was gained by chiseling away door or window panels. A striking commonality was that the majority of the victims were of Italian descent.
The Axeman’s Infamous Letter and the Jazz Ultimatum
As fear intensified, a bizarre new development plunged New Orleans into even deeper panic. On March 14, 1919, the Times-Picayune newspaper received a chilling, taunting letter purportedly from the Axeman himself. Dated “Hell, March 13, 1919,” the letter declared the writer to be an “invisible” spirit and demon, not a human being. It boasted of immunity from capture and warned police not to incur the Axeman’s wrath.
The letter contained a truly unprecedented proposition: “Now, to be exact, at 12:15 (earthly time) on next Tuesday night [March 19, 1919], I am going to pass over New Orleans. In my infinite mercy, I am going to make a little proposition to you people. Here it is: I am very fond of jazz music, and I swear by all the devils in the nether regions that every person shall be spared in whose home a jazz band is in full swing at the time I have just mentioned. If everyone has a jazz band going, well, then, so much the better for you people. One thing is certain and that is that some of your people who do not jazz it on Tuesday night (if there be any) will get the axe.”
The city reacted with an extraordinary display of collective compliance. On the night of March 19, jazz music reportedly flowed from homes, dance halls, and parties across New Orleans. Professional and amateur bands played continuously, creating a cacophony designed to appease the mysterious killer. Remarkably, not a single axeman attack was reported that night. This strange episode only deepened the enigma surrounding the killer, suggesting a mind both brutal and oddly theatrical.
Renewed Attacks and the Axeman’s Final Disappearance
Despite the jazz night reprieve, fear lingered. After several quiet weeks, the Axeman struck again on August 10, 1919. Grocer Steve Boca was attacked in his bed but survived the ax blow, collapsing at a neighbor’s home. Like previous incidents, nothing was stolen, and entry was gained by chiseling a back door panel. Boca, however, could not recall the details of the assault.
A month later, on September 2, local druggist William Carson narrowly escaped, firing shots at an intruder who fled, leaving behind a broken door and an ax. The very next day, September 3, young Sarah Laumann, living alone, was brutally attacked in her locked home while she slept. Discovered unconscious by neighbors, she suffered a severe head injury and lost several teeth, but ultimately recovered. A bloody ax was found on her front lawn, a signature of the elusive killer.
The final known victim of the Axeman was grocer Mike Pepitone, slain on October 27, 1919. His wife heard a commotion and arrived at the bedroom door just as a large, ax-wielding man fled. Pepitone lay dead, struck in the head, leaving behind his wife and six children. Mrs. Pepitone, traumatized, could offer no description of the assailant. The authorities relentlessly pursued the case, but Pepitone’s murder marked the end of the Axeman of New Orleans‘ reign. He was never seen or heard from again, and the case remains one of America’s most enduring true crime mysteries.
The Enduring Legacy of the Axeman
The Axeman of New Orleans remains an enduring and chilling figure in the annals of American true crime. While numerous theories have been proposed—ranging from individual grudges and mafia-related vendettas to a genuinely deranged serial killer—none have ever been definitively proven. The bizarre “jazz man” letter, the inexplicable pauses in his attacks, and his sudden, complete disappearance only add to the mystique. The Axeman’s brutal spree terrorized a vibrant city, leaving behind a legacy not just of death and injury, but also of a city united in fear and an unsolved mystery that continues to fascinate and horrify over a century later. The case highlights the vulnerability of communities to unknown threats and the powerful psychological impact of a killer who could vanish without a trace.
