The crafty, yet unusual, booking agent Jack Pfefer had one of the most notable careers in professional wrestling history.  As an "independent," he tackled major syndicates, leading promoters, and even deliberately harmed the entire sport to get back at his enemies, which, of course, also hindered his ability to make money selling the grappling product.  Pfefer was a unique figure in his style, attitude, and even his dress code.  His grooming, or lack of it, was also notable, if you could believe that.  In a career that spanned more than 40 years, he stayed true to himself, and as sort of gypsy, he traveled across North America and built his fortune.

A meticulous record keeper and a notorious spend-thift, Pfefer was regularly seen in a tattered suit jacket, beat up shoes, and a sweat-soaked hat.  His dedication to wrestling overshadowed his desire to bathe or dress in fresh attire, and that was admirable to a certain point.  Pfefer's behavior and personal traits were not so much a distraction to the industry's bottom line, and that was drawing fans and making money.  That he could do with a gang of colorful characters he repackaged with fine form.  Promoters often called upon him to bring in his stable of monsters, angels, hillbillies, and, otherwise "freaks," and fans responded positively to the imports.  Other times, they turned people away from arenas and just moved, like a traveling carnival, to another territory, where they found much better results.

Pfefer's unkept appearance was additionally eclipsed by his amazing distrust and unambiguous animosity toward the "big shots" of professional wrestling.  That opinion was molded into concrete in 1933 when his so-called allies went around his back to form the famed "Trust." From that point on, the already overly conscious "Jake" went on a rampage to injure his rivals and make a success for himself alone.  In time, he did both.

Managing talent was the key.  Finessing performers was a learned ability he picked up while touring with Anna Pavlowa, a famous Russian dancer, and her troupe in the early 1920s.  That subtle finesse morphed into straight out manipulation by the time Jack had turned to pro wrestling, and he wasn't always so vocally responsible.  That unadvised action, on a few occasions, nearly had uncouth wrestlers ready to tear him limb from limb.  Pfefer survived even the most vicious of grapplers with two legs and two arms, and his overall attitude toward professional wrestlers never seemed to change, even after decades of managing them.

There were a few grapplers who he sincerely cared for.  Dave Levin, for example, was considered somewhat of a son, in some respects.  He advised him on personal matters and even assisted him attentively when Levin was put out of action with blood poisoning.

Loyalty was vitally important.  Buddy Rogers's abandonment was a tremendous blow to Pfefer, and like the promoter's actions in 1933, Jack was not going to let it slide without a recourse.  Revenge was a personal mission that he undertook with tremendous pride.  Rogers was in his cross-hairs for years and a day likely didn't go by without some sort of concentration on issuing retribution back to the man he believed received so much from him, without gratitude.  Buddy, despite Pfefer's undertaking, rose to the NWA World Heavyweight Title in 1961 and made millions for the bookers that had him in their camp. 

The Creations of Jack Pfefer