Kenneth W. Brown
The Man Called Razz is a saga about a man who grew-up in the eastern Tennessee mountains. This endeavor started out to be just an historical outline of my Great Great-Granddad, but grew into what you have before you. My desire was to relate his life to my children before my memory became clouded. I felt all my family had to know, from whence they came. The main elements of this book were related to me, as I was a young child, by notes, friends and family members. From those sources, I have shared the stories which were told to me. The paper trail, which was sparce, has been entered into this document as support. The book is a representation of his life, as I have come to know it. His formative years and his life as a marauder during the Civil War had a great impact on him as to how he related to societal demands. He lived and died by those teachings. Some have called him a mad-man, others said he was doing what he knew to do. You, as the reader, must make your own determination regarding this man and his lfe. But you must consider, before you pass judgement, that after the Civil War ended, there was no Veterans Administration to "de-brief" the soldiers coming home from that war. In the South there was no parade, no hero's, no thanks and no acknowledgement of their sacrifice. Like all other Southern Veterans there was no reward for their service to a country they loved so dearly. To the victor go the spoils; and also the history which is taught to the generations thereafter. Despite what was said about Razz, he came home as the conqueror and he made his life victorious, at least in his own mind.
I was educated in the Beavercreek School system. This community is on the east side of Dayton, Ohio. After high school I entered Wright State University while working at General Motors Corporation. After completing a duel B. A. Degree in Sociology and Philosophy, I enrolled in the Sociology Masters program at Ohio State University. Before finishing the Masters program I was elected as a Local President of the International Union of Electrical Workers. One of my many duties in that position was the Chief Contract Negotiator for local and national contracts. Afterwards I assumed the position as Director of Quality Network for the IUE/GM Conference Board. After retirement, I purchased a business and continued that business until the sale of it in 2002. I am now retired and have put to paper the history of some of my family.
I knowed I had kin that lived close ta Oliver Springs, but I never thought they lived right in town. When we first started the attack that mornin’ I come a-blazin’ down the main street of town and was makin’ a hard right onto another street that teed into the street I was on. Well, as I rounded the corner a-shootin’ and a-hollern’ three fellers come from behind the corner house with guns drawn and started cuttin’ loose at me. I had both fists full of my Colt .44’s, they were a matchin’ set of six. I had all six on me. I was sure proud of my Colt’s. Well by-god, I dropped them boys like a bad habit. They didn’t know me and I damned sure didn’t know them or at least fer a split second I didn’t know ‘em. When they threw down on me, they would have killed me if’in I had not dropped them first. When I let off the third round a thought passed through my mind that those fellers looked awful familiar. I jerked the reigns back and as I slid my mount ta a halt I jumped off her in one motion.
When I walked over and looked into their faces a-layin’ there in the street, I saw the strong resemblance of my Pa a-starin’ out at the sky. Then I knew why the thought had passed through my mind; Oh GOD, how was I gonna tell Pa that I killed his Older brother, Uncle Elias? How in the hell had I ended up killin’ my own Uncle and my two cousins I’ll never know. Ya know, sometimes I have these deep thoughts that comes ta me that the kindred spirits are drawn ta the same place. Its sorty like a mans soul is drawn ta his kin wherever his kin is. Well, right, wrong or different I was drawn ta that spot fer some reason. And, I killed them fer sure! Fate sure played a hell-of-a trick on me that day.
If that ain’t the damned luck of the Irish. They didn’t even know who I was ner did I know them. In the background by that time, the guns were jest a-poppin’ now and then. At that, I was inclined ta believe that the slaughter was carried out. So I knowed I wadn’t needed. I then drug my family over ta the side of the road and emptied their pockets and started ta look around fer a place ta bury ‘em. I figured right there where I had killed ‘em would be good enough, but then decided I would at least bury ‘em somewhere that their graves would be protected. So I pushed the gate open ta a yard that had a little picket fence that surrounded it and drug the bodies through the gate. I found a shovel lent up a-gin’ a house and so I started a-diggin’ the holes where I decided ta bury ‘em.
As I was a-diggin’ I seed Brady and Crocket, on their mounts, out of the corner of my eye, and they slowly meandered over ta where I was and ask me what the hell I was a-doin’. I told them I was a- burin’ my kin. Those two fellers never ask another question, they jest dis-mounted and found a couple more shovels and threw in and helped me finish the graves. Then we put my blood ta rest, real proper like, Old Crocket even said a prayer fer em. I did come back after the War was over and I set three head stones on their graves. The town
