“It Ain’t Right, Judge, When a Woman Slaps You and the Dogs Keep the House in an Uproar”: The Death of Theresa Weinstein Moers by Boxer Kid McCoy, August 1924, Part One

by Paul R. Spitzzeri

The press photograph in the Homestead’s artifact collection shows its subject seated in a side chair by a window, with Theresa Weinstein Moers wearing a lace dress, a white scarf, white hose and shoes and a wide-brimmed hat with what looks like baby’s breath trimmings. Her pose is suggestive of a confident woman of some means, though the setting, a non-descript corner of a room near an open window, is a curious one, though there is a supposition below of where that might have been.

The photograph, from United Newspapers and with stamps from the Newspaper Enterprise Association syndicate is captioned:

KID MC COY IS HELD FOR HER SLAYING

Mrs. Theresa Mors, wealthy divorcee of Los Angeles, found dead from a pistol bullet in her apartment after a reported quarrel had been heard by her neighbors, Norman Selby, the Kid McCoy of the prize ring, is held by the police and charged with the slaying.

The death of Mors, which occurred on 13 August 1924, and the arrest of the former boxing champion caused a sensation with Angel City newspapers like the Los Angeles Express and Los Angeles Times devoting plenty of column space and copious amounts of ink to the melodrama that also involved purported smuggled jewels, a bitter divorce, the washed-up pugilist and former movie actor in financial distress and addicted to alcohol, and more.

In a way, it is a surprise that this sordid story wasn’t fictionalized on film because this is another one of the myriad of examples of how “truth is stranger than fiction.” McCoy’s celebrity certainly drove much of the media frenzy, but there was much made of Mors and her tumultuous business and personal life, as well.

Mc Coy was born Norman Selby in October 1873 in the little hamlet of Moscow, Indiana, southeast of Indianapolis, though he spent much of his youth in the latter metropolis. He was not quite 18 years of age when he became a professional middleweight boxer and was undefeated for about three years, including a draw, and had 27 wins, 2 losses and 6 draws when he surprised Tommy Ryan, for whom McCoy was a sparring partner, in a 2 March 1896 bout in New York City and captured a vacant world title.

His heyday lasted until about 1903, including retention of the middleweight title, with two defeats in 1899, a couple of draws, a loss to famed pugilist James J. Corbett at Madison Square Garden in New York City in August 1900 and coming up short in the first light heavyweight championship fight at Detroit in April 1903 to Jack Root.

On 27 September 1904, “the Kid,” in his early thirties and out of his prime took on Jack Sullivan in a bout at Hazard’s Pavilion, located across from the north end of Central Park, now Pershing Square, and soon replaced by the Temple Baptist Church and Auditorium. The contest went 20 rounds and, though it ended in a victory on points, McCoy expressed disappointment that he was not in better condition and Sullivan demanded a rematch, which he never received.

The bout gave the veteran fighter a record of 70-7-10, but, over the remaining seven years of his career, McCoy only fought ten times, the last three in France, but won each fight. Of his 79 victories, 59 were by knockout and he was renowned for his “corkscrew” punch, in which he twisted his wrist as he made contact, apparently coming up with it after watching a cat bat at a mouse. In 1958, a boxing publication declared McCoy the greatest light heavyweight fighter to date and he was also considered a top puncher due to the powerful effect of the corkscrew.

After his retirement, McCoy moved to Los Angeles and broke into the Hollywood film industry, appearing in a number of movies in the decade between 1913 and 1923, including 1922’s The World’s Champion, in which star Wallace Reid boxed against McCoy, Lillian Gish’s 1919 drama, Broken Blossoms, and a strange 1922 picture starring Western cowboy legend Tom Mix, but which put the star in Arabia. He also worked with actors on boxing scenes, including comedy superstar Charlie Chaplin, who had a strong interest in the sport.

When, as Norman Selby, he registered during the First World War for the draft, the ex-boxer listed his occupation as physical instructor, though in the 1920 census he was enumerated as “professional boxer.” He then became a stock broker, but, in October 1921, as the Los Angeles Record of the 19th reported, his license was removed after he was indicted on charges of selling worthless oil stock. He still faced this legal issue by early 1924, though it appears the matter was dropped. Notably, he took a job by that time as a private detective for the C.C. Julian oil company, which was later the center of notorious and widespread swindle.

Bankruptcy and alcoholism also marked much of McCoy’s life during the early 1920s, while he was widely reported for his nine marriages, some repetitious, as well. His public persona, however, still largely rested on his pugilistic prowess, and, to some extent, the dream factory representations of Hollywood, while much of the more unsavory aspects of his life weren’t nearly as well broadcast—that is, until his relationship with Theresa Moers came to light and culminated in her death.

She was born Theresa (known commonly as Tessie) Weinstein in 1891 in Bohemia, in today’s Czech Republic, though census records noted she was Hungarian because of the Austro-Hungarian Empire that controlled that region. When very young, she migrated to America with her Ashkenazi Jewish family, there were two other daughters, and her father ran a laundry in the Upper East Side of the Manhattan borough of New York City.

Theresa was working as a stenographer in an office when, in August 1915, she married Cleveland native Albert Abraham Moers, who, however, spent much of his young years in the Big Apple, living for a time just off the north end of Central Park, as his father was a traveling salesperson. As a teen, Albert worked in sales, as well, though, by his late Twenties, he owned a metal business with his father.

It appears that Moers did well in his enterprise, based on some later statements that we’ll note, as well as the fact that he took a business trips to Europe in 1916-1917, 1919-1920 and in 1921. It also seems that these trips opened up a new business opportunity for Moers, though how much of it was legitimate became a question in 1924, as we’ll see. In any case, by summer 1922, Albert and Theresa headed west and settled in Los Angeles, though why they chose the Angel City is unknown.

The couple established an antiques and art dealing business called Moers-Ghisi, Inc., located first on West 7th Street, this being the preeminent retail shopping area of the city, adjacent to today’s Interstate 110 and west of Figueroa Street. When a new edifice was built by the Fifth and Broadway Investment Company at 7th and Grand View streets across from the southern side of Westlake (now MacArthur) Park in fall 1922, the firm leased the building.

The structure, including a row of adjacent stores to the east, all designed by the well-known architectural firm of Morgan, Walls and Morgan, still stands, including its preserved decorative plaster work at the front entrance and, especially, around the central second-floor windows and around windows on the Grand View side.

It didn’t take long, however, for the Moers marriage to migrate towards dissolution, first with Theresa filing for divorce in August 1923, though there appears to have been a reconciliation, at least for a brief period. In May 1924, it was Albert’s turn to file, after a separation that began early in the year, with the Los Angeles Times of the 26th reporting, apparently with undisguised glee, that,

Life among yipping dogs and chattering parakeets having become intolerable, Albert A. Moers filed respectful protest with his wife, Mrs. Theresa W. Moers, . . .

A cordial invitation to “go jump in the lake” [presumably across the street at Westlake Park, though the couple lived on Wilshire Boulevard, west of Western Avenue] was her reply to his representations, the complaint recited. That being that, Moers felt free to avail himself of the freedom of the great open spaces of a renewed bachelorhood, where a man is a man and not simply a specimen in a miniature menagerie . . .

It was added that Albert had a “principal objection to sharing his home with his wife’s dogs and parakeets” as “they damaged and destroyed the furniture,” with Theresa allegedly rejoining that “she loved her pets and she did not love him.” Moreover, Albert asserted that his spouse “when piqued, expressed herself with violence,” throwing a framed photo and then a book at him, while “he charged her with kicking, scratching and vilifying him.”

McCoy was not mentioned at this point, but was three months later, when the Los Angeles Express of 6 August recorded there was a fracas at the home the couple, despite the divorce proceedings, occupied in the Whitley Heights section of Hollywood near where U.S. 101 runs through Cahuenga Pass now. It was stated that Theresa and “‘Kid’ McCoy, ‘the woman protector,” showed up at the residence and “staged a scene from a real life comedy-drama,” while Albert was apparently entertaining two young women and another man.

An argument burst forth, the police were called and Albert handed an office a .25 caliber handgun, which he said “belonged to his wife and he was afraid she was going to use it.” When the party was transported to the police station, Albert tried to have Theresa arrested for assault, but she claimed that “he became excited and bit his lip,” while he was advised to go to the district attorney and file a complaint, while she tried to retrieve her gun, but was unsuccessful at that juncture. The article also referred to a statement that “Mrs. Mors [sic] said she intends to marry the ‘Kid,’ . . . as soon as she is divorced . . . thus becoming wife No. 10 of the ex-prize fighter.”

The following day’s Times observed that, when Albert and Theresa met at the Mors antique store “with their attorneys engaged in dividing the stock . . . as the first step in effecting a property settlement,” McCoy showed up with Albert yelling at him to leave the premises. After “the Kid demurred” and Albert went to call the police and the lawyers issued their recommendations, “‘The Kid left. Score: no hits; one ran.”

In its number of the 8th, the Times went into some detail about the divorce proceedings in court, with Theresa’s ten dogs mentioned as being a nuisance to Albert, including that they “used to lick his face while he was asleep, causing him no end of embarrassment and chagrin.” Remarkably, Judge John L. Fleming, after hearing from Albert how he was henpecked by Theresa, asked, “why didn’t you spank her?” to which the beleaguered plaintiff asserted, “Judge, I just couldn’t do that; besides Kid McCoy was always around and while I wasn’t exactly afraid of him I didn’t want to mess around with a prize fighter.” Albert continued,

Your Honor, we were married in August, 1915, in New York; she was just a poor stenographer and I made a millionaire’s wife out of her. I adored her; she was the apple of my eye; but she has a violent temper and lacks appreciation. I did my best to get along with her, but it ain’t right, judge, when a woman slaps you and the dogs keep the house in an uproar.

It was added that when Theresa got violent, as attested to by Gladys Barbieri, the antique store company’s vice-president, and would hit Albert, he would “feebly remonstrate and complain, “Now, Tessie! Now, Tessie! You mustn’t do that!.” The article concluded that a settlement was reached by which Theresa would receive up to $200,000, a substantial sum for the time, and Albert was granted the divorce so he could go on a business trip.

The Express of the same day, in its briefer coverage of the proceeding, informed readers in a similarly light-hearted vein, that, with divorce finalized, “Kid McCoy, veteran pugilist, may get the decision on another matrimonial round and add a tenth wife to his string of victories at the altar,” though “The Kid, however, coyly evaded the question of whether or not he plans to enter the arena as a dealer in antiques.” It was added that Albert planned to take some of the store stock, from that division, and return to the Big Apple, “leaving Mrs. Mors in possession of such antiques as remain here.”

In its edition of the 9th, though, the Express remarked that Albert was arrested, thanks to information on his whereabouts provided by McCoy, on charges of threatening to kill Theresa in addition to accusations that Albert absconded with jewelry and stock certificates to the tune of $50,000. The paper continued that, “jauntily smoking a cigaret,” perhaps the press photo was taken at this proceeding at the D.A.’s office, “as she related her latest experience, Mrs. Mors accused her former husband of entering her antique shop . . . last night, and taking from the safe stocks in the company . . . a diamond pin and other articles of jewelry and valuable papers.”

Theresa and Gladys Barbieri attested that they saw this through a window, as they did not enter the building “because they were afraid of him. Theresa added that, after he admitted to taking the items, evidently believing he had a right to them, she called the police and told Albert, “I have the best of you now.” Moreover, she stated that she intended to borrow money on the stock to get funds she agreed to give Albert before he left the city and, without the documents, she could not run the store. As for her relationship with “The Kid,” it was noted that Theresa, “with a toss of her head,” commented, “you can’t tell, I might marry him.”

As to the settlement, the Times of the 10th related, Theresa remarked that she was to get the store and its inventory, with a value of $200,000, while Albert was to be paid $35,000 and merchandise worth $25,000. There were two stock certificates, one each for the Moers and at a value of $50,000, which Albert was said to have taken. When he called his ex-wife, Albert reportedly told her, “well, I put one over on you. I’ve got all the records. I got them last night.” This led to the complaint and arrest, with Theresa, hiding her face beneath a big picture hat (again, think of the press photo) adding that Albert, with Barbieri present, screaming, “I will kill you. I will fix you before I leave Los Angeles.”

The Express of the next day reported that Albert was released on bail of $62,000 after arraignment on charges of grand larceny and disturbing the peace and ordered to appear at a preliminary hearing on the 15th to determine if he should be held to answer for trial before the Superior Court.

The Los Angeles Record of the 13th recounted much of the recent controversy, but added that McCoy, as he waited outside the courtroom during the arraignment “told reporters he expected to go into business with Mrs. Mors as soon as the antique store could be fixed up.” Speaking of which, the Express on the 9th published, in Speed Evans’ humor column, “Sense and Nonsense,” the witticism that “Mrs. Nors [sic] being a collector of antiques probably explains why she wants Kid McCoy.”

The jokes, however, would cease abruptly when the news was published that Theresa was dead. Join us next for part two as we continue this remarkable story.