Of Local Lore & Lawyers

OF LOCAL LORE & LAWYERS By: Joe Jarret, J.D., Ph.D.

Attorney, The University of Tennessee

OTTO WOOD, THE TERROR OF TENNESSEE, NORTH CAROLINA, VIRGINIA, ETC.

It was when he was required to fill out a selective service draft card in 1917, (which was required due to America’s entry into the First World War), that Otto Wood 1 recorded his “Occupation” as “In jail awaiting release to Tennessee Penitentiary.” So who was this enigmatic character who earned such monikers as “The Houdini of the South” (for his uncanny ability to break out of most any prison or jail), to “The Robin Hood of the Blue Ridge” (for his propensity to share with the less fortunate the money he took from the more fortunate?). Born in Wilkes County North Carolina (N.C.) in 1894, Otto Wood began his life of crime at thirteen, when he stole a bicycle in Wilkesboro for which he was jailed for five months and ultimately released with a reprimand from the county judge. At fourteen, he was convicted of breaking into a hardware store and sentenced to serve six months on the chain gang, but, once again, because of his youth, was sent home to his mother.

In his one attempt to turn from a life of crime, Otto worked on the railroad, subsequently losing his left hand in a work-related accident, thus earning him another moniker, “The One-Armed Bandit.” Otto hired an attorney, successfully sued the railroad, and was awarded $7,000 in damages. He ultimately married, but on his honeymoon trip to Kentucky, Otto was convicted of car theft in Tennessee and sentenced to three years in the Tennessee State Penitentiary. After a year of hard labor, he escaped, leaving in a dry goods box that was hauled out of the prison by the very guards who were charged with his care. Chased by bloodhounds throughout the night, Otto struck a 250-pound guard on the head, rendering him unconscious, and climbed into a freight train caboose. Finding a railroad uniform, he disguised himself as a railroad brakeman, then promptly presented himself to the search party, thus joining in the chase for himself.

Otto spent most of his short life traveling across North Carolina, East Tennessee, Kentucky, and Virginia as a bootlegger, a bandit, and a fugitive, when he ultimately shot and killed a pawnbroker. He was the object of both scorn and song, and, as one ballad reminisced, “He loved the women, he hated the law, and he just wouldn’t take nobody’s jaw.” Over the years he escaped from jails and prisons in Virginia, West Virginia, North Carolina and Tennessee, and, despite hefty rewards for his capture, was never betrayed, most likely for his tendency to share his ill-gotten gain with the less fortunate.

Of the ballads written about Otto, and there were several, the most popular, entitled “Otto Wood the Bandit,” ended up on Columbia Records. It goes like this: Step up, buddies, and listen to my song I’ll sing it to you right, but you may sing it wrong, All about a man named Otto Wood, I can’t tell you all, but I wish I could.

He walked in a pawn shop a rainy day, And with the clerk he had a quarrel, they say. Pulled out his pistol and he struck him a blow, And this is the way the story goes.

They spread the news as fast as they could, The sheriff served a warrant on Otto Wood. The jury said murder in the second degree, And the judge passed the sentence to the penitentiary.

Otto, why didn’t you run? Otto’s done dead and gone. Otto Wood, why didn’t you run When the sheriff pulled out his 44 gun?

They put him in the pen, but it done no good, It wouldn’t hold the man they call Otto Wood. It wasn’t very long till he slipped outside, Drawed a gun on the guard, said, “Take me for a ride.”

Second time they caught him was away out west, In the holdup game, he got shot through the breast. They brought him back and when he got well, They locked him down in a dungeon cell.

He was a man they could not run, He always carried a 44 gun. He rambled out west and he rambled all around, He met the sheriff in a southern town. And the sheriff says, “Otto, step this way, ‘Cause I’ve been expecting you every day.”

He pulled out his gun and then he said, “If you make a crooked move, you both fall dead. Crank up your car and take me out of town,” And a few minutes later, he was graveyard bound. 2

Otto Wood, the man, the myth, the legend, the bootlegger, the thief, the killer, ultimately shuffled off the mortal coil but did not go quietly into that good night. Instead, he died in an exchange of gunfire with law enforcement. Said an old friend, “For Otto, it was a good way to die.”

1 For a comprehensive study of the life and times of Otto Wood see McKenzie, T. J. (2012). “ROBIN HOOD OF THE BLUE RIDGE”: THE LIFE, LEGEND, AND SONGS OF OTTO WOOD, THE BANDIT (Doctoral dissertation, Appalachian State University). 2 © 1965, Columbia Records and Arthel Lane “Doc” Watson, American guitarist, songwriter, and singer.