In the spring of 1919, a wave of terror held the city of New Orleans and its surrounding communities in its grip. A mysterious serial killer, dubbed "The Axeman of New Orleans" by the press, had been breaking into homes for nearly a year, attacking sleeping residents with shocking brutality. The city was on edge, particularly the Italian-American grocers who seemed to be the killer's primary targets.
For months, the attacks were confined to New Orleans proper, but on the night of March 10, 1919, the Axeman crossed the Mississippi River into the quiet suburb of Gretna, bringing unimaginable tragedy to the Cortimiglia family.
Charles and Rosie Cortimiglia were Italian immigrants who ran a small grocery store from their home on the corner of Jefferson Avenue and Second Street. That night, they were asleep in their residence with their two-year-old daughter, Mary Cortimiglia, a female toddler who was the light of their lives. In a terrifying pattern that had become his signature, the intruder forced his way into the home by chiseling out a panel on the back door. Once inside, he located an axe belonging to the family and unleashed a horrific assault.
Screams from the home alerted a neighbor, grocer Iorlando Jordano, who rushed across the street to find a scene of carnage. Charles and Rosie had both been bludgeoned and suffered severe skull fractures. Little Mary, held in her mother's arms during the attack, received a single, fatal blow to the back of her neck. When help arrived, Rosie was found standing in the doorway, gravely wounded and clutching her deceased child. Charles lay bleeding on the floor. The couple was rushed to the hospital, but nothing could be done for their daughter. The Axeman, as was his custom, had left the bloodied axe on the back porch and taken nothing of value from the home.
The attack on the Cortimiglia family sent a fresh wave of panic through the region. Just days later, a taunting letter, purportedly from the killer, was published in local newspapers. Claiming to be a "demon from the hottest hell," the author promised to kill again but would spare anyone in a home where a jazz band was playing. The night of March 19th saw the city's dance halls filled to capacity and private homes blaring with music as terrified residents hoped to ward off the evil that stalked their streets.
The investigation into Mary's murder took a bewildering turn. While recovering from her severe injuries, Rosie Cortimiglia accused her neighbors, Iorlando Jordano and his teenage son Frank, of being the attackers. Despite Charles Cortimiglia vehemently denying his wife's claims and the physical implausibility of the accusation—the elder Jordano was in poor health and his son was too large to have fit through the chiseled door panel—police arrested the pair. They were tried and convicted based solely on Rosie's testimony. Frank was sentenced to hang, and his father received a life sentence.
Almost a year later, the case unraveled. Rosie admitted she had lied, falsely accusing the Jordanos out of jealousy and spite over a business dispute. Some reports suggest she may have been coerced by authorities desperate to close the case. The Jordanos were released from prison in December 1920, their names cleared but their lives irrevocably damaged. The wrongful conviction left the murder of Mary Cortimiglia officially unsolved, just another tragic chapter in the Axeman's reign of terror. The killer was never identified, and the attacks stopped as mysteriously as they had begun in late 1919. The murder of a two-year-old girl in her mother's arms remains one of the most heartbreaking crimes attributed to the phantom killer, and the case, like all others connected to the Axeman, is now cold.
