Ten seconds of sunlight
Posted: 24 May 2023, 02:02
Today marks the 110th anniversary of the death of Luther McCarty in his first defense of the short-lived World White Heavyweight Championship, against Arthur Pelkey in Calgary, Canada on May 24, 1913.
Before the opening bell at Manchester Arena, promoter Tommy Burns invited Rev. William Walker of St. Augustine’s Anglican Church to deliver an invocation. Dressed entirely in black, Walker stepped gingerly to the center of the ring and somberly addressed the hushed crowd of 6,500 with a short but chillingly prophetic sermon. “In the midst of life, we are in death,” he said. “Even these huge athletes are not immune. The giant and the weakling must obey the same inevitable law. Here are two fine young men in perfect physical condition, ready for their big test – but they do not know when they might be struck down. The Great Referee, all-powerful, watches over all of us at all times. It should remind us always to be ready to meet our Maker when the time comes, and to live our lives so that when we are called we should not be found wanting.”
According to the official report filed with the City of Calgary the timekeeper struck the bell at exactly 12:57 pm. After that, all hell broke loose. What transpired over the next minute and forty-five seconds has been discussed, debated and debunked for decades, leaving more questions than answers.
The Calgary Daily Herald reported “the fighters exchanged smiles before advancing from their corners to touch gloves in true title fight tradition.” McCarty threw the first punch, an exploratory left that barely grazed Pelkey’s cheek. Pelkey responded with a right to the ribs before they fell into a clinch, forcing referee Ed Smith to separate them. Pelkey snapped a left jab to McCarty’s forehead, then retreated as the champion launched another tenuous right that fell well short of its mark.
Just past the one minute mark Pelkey shot a straight right to McCarty’s chest, followed by a glancing left to the head. The fighters briefly clinched before McCarty pushed Pelkey out of range, looked towards his corner … and winked. After a slight pause Pelkey surged forward and missed with a chopping left that forced McCarty to step back. As a slight smile flickered across his face, the champion bent slightly at the waist and raised his arms in an uppercut posture. Then he suddenly stiffened, wavered for a moment … and collapsed in a heap.
The correspondent for the Calgary News-Telegram wrote: “The big lad seemed rather stupefied at first. A queer look passed over his face. His eyes seemed to change their hue and his smile disappeared instantly. McCarty fell slowly and easily, landing on his right side. His eyes looked bad as they worked from side to side as he went down. Stretched full-length on the canvas with his curly head slightly under the ropes, he let his arms go out to full length as he heaved his chest up and down for a moment. Then he began to gasp. Referee Smith seemed unable to understand what had happened, but then he started the first and last count ever made over the young boxer and tolled him out. When Smith realized he had counted out a dying man, his grief was terrible to witness.”
The Daily Herald’s eyewitness account was more detailed: “The incident happened so suddenly that not a man in the house could grasp the seriousness of the situation. Referee Smith was thunderstruck when the world champion went down. He bent over McCarty’s prostrate body and started to count. When he reached ten he turned to Pelkey and pointed him to his corner. Little did Ed Smith know that when he was counting he was talking to one who could hear nothing. One who had passed from this world to the next. McCarty lay there on the floor, not a muscle moving after he fell. His eyes were glassy. As soon as the final number was reached manager, Billy McCarney, rushed into the ring and started to work on him. He yelled frantically for doctors, and several were immediately on hand. Every possible thing was done for the prostrate man. His arms and legs were worked, artificial respiration was tried, brandy and morphine injected. It was all to no avail. McCarty, who entered the ring as the world’s white heavyweight champion a few minutes before and was the betting favorite over Pelkey, was already dead. After working on his limp and inert body for about fifteen minutes in the ring, doctors picked up McCarty and he was carried out into the fresh air. Here they resumed their work and tried all the harder for another ten minutes before they reluctantly ceased their efforts to revive the twenty-one-year-old.”
Legend has it that at the moment McCarty collapsed the cloudy sky above Manchester Arena briefly parted, allowing a furtive ray of sunshine to slip through a hole in the roof and illuminate the exact spot where the champion breathed his last. Although there was no mention of it in the press, several witnesses later said that as Smith started counting a halo of light appeared to encircle McCarty’s face – then abruptly disappeared as the referee tolled ten. The story gained traction when a doctored photograph captioned “Ten Seconds of Sunlight” was published in The Ring some years later, but it has never been corroborated by contemporaneous evidence …
Before the opening bell at Manchester Arena, promoter Tommy Burns invited Rev. William Walker of St. Augustine’s Anglican Church to deliver an invocation. Dressed entirely in black, Walker stepped gingerly to the center of the ring and somberly addressed the hushed crowd of 6,500 with a short but chillingly prophetic sermon. “In the midst of life, we are in death,” he said. “Even these huge athletes are not immune. The giant and the weakling must obey the same inevitable law. Here are two fine young men in perfect physical condition, ready for their big test – but they do not know when they might be struck down. The Great Referee, all-powerful, watches over all of us at all times. It should remind us always to be ready to meet our Maker when the time comes, and to live our lives so that when we are called we should not be found wanting.”
According to the official report filed with the City of Calgary the timekeeper struck the bell at exactly 12:57 pm. After that, all hell broke loose. What transpired over the next minute and forty-five seconds has been discussed, debated and debunked for decades, leaving more questions than answers.
The Calgary Daily Herald reported “the fighters exchanged smiles before advancing from their corners to touch gloves in true title fight tradition.” McCarty threw the first punch, an exploratory left that barely grazed Pelkey’s cheek. Pelkey responded with a right to the ribs before they fell into a clinch, forcing referee Ed Smith to separate them. Pelkey snapped a left jab to McCarty’s forehead, then retreated as the champion launched another tenuous right that fell well short of its mark.
Just past the one minute mark Pelkey shot a straight right to McCarty’s chest, followed by a glancing left to the head. The fighters briefly clinched before McCarty pushed Pelkey out of range, looked towards his corner … and winked. After a slight pause Pelkey surged forward and missed with a chopping left that forced McCarty to step back. As a slight smile flickered across his face, the champion bent slightly at the waist and raised his arms in an uppercut posture. Then he suddenly stiffened, wavered for a moment … and collapsed in a heap.
The correspondent for the Calgary News-Telegram wrote: “The big lad seemed rather stupefied at first. A queer look passed over his face. His eyes seemed to change their hue and his smile disappeared instantly. McCarty fell slowly and easily, landing on his right side. His eyes looked bad as they worked from side to side as he went down. Stretched full-length on the canvas with his curly head slightly under the ropes, he let his arms go out to full length as he heaved his chest up and down for a moment. Then he began to gasp. Referee Smith seemed unable to understand what had happened, but then he started the first and last count ever made over the young boxer and tolled him out. When Smith realized he had counted out a dying man, his grief was terrible to witness.”
The Daily Herald’s eyewitness account was more detailed: “The incident happened so suddenly that not a man in the house could grasp the seriousness of the situation. Referee Smith was thunderstruck when the world champion went down. He bent over McCarty’s prostrate body and started to count. When he reached ten he turned to Pelkey and pointed him to his corner. Little did Ed Smith know that when he was counting he was talking to one who could hear nothing. One who had passed from this world to the next. McCarty lay there on the floor, not a muscle moving after he fell. His eyes were glassy. As soon as the final number was reached manager, Billy McCarney, rushed into the ring and started to work on him. He yelled frantically for doctors, and several were immediately on hand. Every possible thing was done for the prostrate man. His arms and legs were worked, artificial respiration was tried, brandy and morphine injected. It was all to no avail. McCarty, who entered the ring as the world’s white heavyweight champion a few minutes before and was the betting favorite over Pelkey, was already dead. After working on his limp and inert body for about fifteen minutes in the ring, doctors picked up McCarty and he was carried out into the fresh air. Here they resumed their work and tried all the harder for another ten minutes before they reluctantly ceased their efforts to revive the twenty-one-year-old.”
Legend has it that at the moment McCarty collapsed the cloudy sky above Manchester Arena briefly parted, allowing a furtive ray of sunshine to slip through a hole in the roof and illuminate the exact spot where the champion breathed his last. Although there was no mention of it in the press, several witnesses later said that as Smith started counting a halo of light appeared to encircle McCarty’s face – then abruptly disappeared as the referee tolled ten. The story gained traction when a doctored photograph captioned “Ten Seconds of Sunlight” was published in The Ring some years later, but it has never been corroborated by contemporaneous evidence …
