
Meet ‘The Talented Mrs. Mandelbaum:’ America’s first gangster
NY Post
They were branded the “Jewish Mafia,” or the “Kosher Nostra” — four violent street-tough Jews with lots of criminal smarts who dominated tabloid headlines and the wanted posters that festooned the bulletin boards of US post offices across the land:
Among them was Meyer Lansky, dubbed the kingpin of organized crime in America; Arnold Rothstein, known as “The Brain,” considered the pioneer executive of the nation’s crime wave in the Roaring Twenties; Benjamin Siegel, known as “Bugsy,” handsome, hot-headed and ruthless with Hollywood good looks, and then there was Louis “Lepke” Buchalter, who then-FBI Director J. Edgar Hoover called “he most dangerous criminal in the United States.
But decades before their crimes made them legends, there was Fredericka Mandelbaum, a portly German immigrant mother of four — the ultimate Jewish mother who a Drew Barrymore of the era — the mid to late 1800s — might have lovingly called “Mamala.” Except for her looks.
At a mannish 6 feet tall, apple-cheeked and of Falstaffian girth, she weighed between 250 and 300 pounds and resembled what one reporter viewed as “the product of a congenial liaison between a dumpling and a mountain.”
She dressed in voluminous black, brown or dark blue silk gowns, topped with a sealskin cape, a bonnet of ostrich feathers and covered, eventually, in diamonds estimated at a worth of more than $40,000 — earrings, necklaces, brooches, bracelets and rings — worth some $1.3 million today.
Before long, Mandelbaum, who started in New York’s immigrant alleys on the Lower East Side as a street peddler, became America’s first major organized crime boss.

The killing of Iran’s tyrannical Supreme Leader Ali Khamenei on Saturday in an unprecedented joint military attack by the US and Israel called Operation Epic Fury set off widespread celebrations from Iranians around the world — as President Trump said it would give them their “greatest chance” to “take back the country.” Meanwhile, in Iran, a lack of internet has made it impossible for Iranians to easily communicate daily conditions. Over a period of three days, with limited VPN connection, an eyewitness currently in Tehran — who, for her safety, is concealing her identity — shared her account of life under a country in the midst of battle with The Post’s Natasha Pearlman.





