Ralls.jpeg – John Perkins Ralls was born Jan. 1, 1882, at Greensboro, Georgia, and died Nov. 22, 1904. Photo courtesy of Danny Crownover.
By Danny Crownover
Back in the early 1890s, an 18-year-old Etowah County boy became the leader of a gang of outlaws that appeared to be destined to make criminal history on these parts.
In fact, the outfit gained a lot of notoriety outside of the state during a brief career in robbery, train – wrecking and the like. It was a dangerous crew; the names of the members have been forgotten, except the leader.
The gang was named for him and he belonged to a good family that suffered much mortification when it became known that he was actually at the head of about eight or ten desperadoes who were as daring as the James boys. Apparently, they were young fellows who would stop at nothing in order to rob and steal.
In due time the law caught up with them and they went to the penitentiary.
The most interesting thing in connection with the gang was the complete reformation of the 18-year-old leader. It is recalled that when he was on the witness stand in the Etowah County court house he attracted much attention because of his youth, his frankness and good looks.
He was indeed a handsome boy and a very friendly one. He had the face of an angel and maybe that was why one of the best women in Alabama became interested in him and actually molded him into one of the finest citizens of a distant state.
While the boy was confined in the jail here he managed a sensational escape, but was at liberty for only a few minutes. He was occupying a cell in the old jail on Chestnut Street when, one morning, he feigned illness so cleverly that the sheriff sent for Dr. John P. Ralls, Sr., in a hurry.
When the good doctor started to look over the prisoner the latter jumped up, shoved the aged doctor aside, ran out into the hall and proceeded to lock the doctor up in his place.
He ran down the stairway to the street and the first thing he saw was a yellow horse hitched to a buggy in front of the plant of the Southern Manufacturing Company. He ran over, unhitched the horse, mounted it and started west on Chestnut Street.
The joke was on the youthful outlaw. That yellow horse, which belonged to Dan Garner, an employee of the Southern Manufacturing Company, was old and could hardly manage a slow foxtrot.
The boy did everything he could to speed up the old plug but he could not get him beyond a slow walk or an almost imperceptible trot.
In fact, deputy sheriffs outran the old family animal and caught the outlaw at Chestnut and Ninth streets.
The boy’s comment on that “old buzzard balt” was said to be a classic but soon after he was returned to his cell he smiled and became good natured about the effort to get away.
The leader of the outlaws was convicted of armed robbery and was sentenced to a long term in the penitentiary. He was sent to Pratt Mines near Birmingham as convicts were leased in those days to coal companies.
At the time Mrs. R.D. Johnston, a grand, Christian woman of Birmingham and a member of one of the leading families of the state, was teaching a Sunday school class in Pratt Mines.
She was the kind of woman to make friends under any and all circumstances. The young convicts in her class worshipped her, including the Etowah County would-be Jesse James.
He changed completely and Mrs. Johnston firmly believed that he had reformed and would make a good citizen. In fact, she had started negotiations for his pardon or parole when suddenly he broke out of prison and disappeared.
Nothing was heard of him for years, but it was reported that after he had made good in another state, he wrote Mrs. Johnston and told her of his success.
He told her that he had become a prominent citizen and that he was aces high with the best element of his adopted home and that he wanted to come back to Alabama and square himself with the law.
One day an elegantly dressed young man appeared at the state penitentiary at Wetumpka and announced that he was so and so and that he was surrendering to complete a long prison sentence. Then if all came out.
He had made good in a big way. He took nobody in his new home into his confidence and so far as he could be learned nobody ever knew that he was an escaped convict, but he was able to show letters from the governor and all state officials, from legislative leaders, from every member of the supreme court and from many ministers, saying that he was a leading businessman, a church leader, a Sunday school teacher and a well-to-do man in his adopted home.
The story was given much publicity and very soon the former desperado of Etowah County, still very youthful, walked out of the Alabama penitentiary with a full pardon.
That was the last of him so far as Alabama was concerned. Mrs. Johnson was the only person here that knew the whole story, but she had conferred with the high officials of the boy’s new home and state and she vouched for his complete reformation. The boy had married into a prominent family and had three children.
Contact The Vagabond at dkcrown@bellsouth.net.
