As a youngster, Luther was charged with
caring for the snakes. The oil was touted as a cure for gout, toothache, rheumatism and
other assorted ills of the day. "Dr." White Eagle had a picturesque outfit, and
would sell snake oil from his stand while his troupe of performers entertained the crowd.
Both Luther's parents contributed to his physical attributes. His mother was reported
to be a stout six feet and 200 pounds. White Eagle stood six feet, five inches tall, and
tipped the scales at 315 pounds. Luther's sister toured the vaudeville circuit as "Hazel
Kirkman, world's champion woman bag puncher."
From this impressive gene pool Luther McCarty grew to six feet five inches, 215 pounds
of fighting talent. The talent, however, was not immediately apparent. His first boxing
match in Sidney occurred on a hot August night in 1911. Harry Hollinger, an employee at R. Given and Sons Tannery, landed a left punch early
in the fight, knocking out McCarty. The News later reported Luther's retort after
regaining consciousness: "You made a dub of me, Harry, but I'm going to stick to
this game and show up some of you fellows before I am through." Shortly
afterward, McCarty left town. He also left behind his wife, Rhoda, and infant daughter
Cornelia.
For a short period of time, McCarty apparently fought under the name of Walker Monahan.
His obvious physical talents caught the eye of Billy McCarney, Philadelphia sportswriter
and boxing promoter. Under McCarney's watchful eye, Luther fought his first professional
fight in Culbertson, Montana, beating a fighter named Adams in two rounds.
McCarney lined up two bouts in New York City. His man beat Jim Stewart and then bested
Jess Willard in a ten round bout during the summer of 1912. The New York media was less
than kind in assessing McCarty's talents, however. McCarty was determined to become a
champion and prove his critics wrong. In short order he fought Carl Morris, Jim Barry, Al
Kaufman, and Jim Flynn. His progress was rapid. He was now ready for a shot at the title.
McCarney apparently knew that McCarty, still relatively unknown, was ready to take on
Al Palzer for the championship. The Cincinnati Enquirer reported a week after the
fight that McCarney had encouraged all his friends "to get a bet down on his
protege, as he is a cinch to beat Palzer." Luther, then only 20 years old, was
probably less certain.
The night of January 2, 1913 found him in L.A. in the ring fighting for the heavyweight
belt in front of 11,000 screaming fans. Three thousand others milled about outside the
arena, hoping for a way to slip in for a peek at the action. Fight promoter Tom Carey
filled the role of the present day Don King. The News carried a blow by blow
description of the contest. In typical home town fashion, the paper trumpeted that the
"fight was so one-sided that the referee stopped it...to save the reeling Palser
from further punishment." With some pride, the account noted: "McCarty,
Palser's curly-haired superior, was smiling and scarcely scratched when the fight ended."