Lives Between the Dimensions

                  BILL, BUDDY, AND ELISHA RAGAN Of Hardeman County, Tennessee and Tippah County, Mississippi By Keith Wayne Ragan William W. (Bill) Ragan (1843-1864), Paul S. (Buddy) Ragan (1844-1864) [i] , and Elisha W. Ragan (1845-1918) have been a part of our family lore forever.   The boys were all sons of my great-great grandparents Nathaniel Simpson Ragan, (1820-1907) and Mary “Polly” Vincent Ragan (1825-1908), born in Hardeman County, Tennessee, but living just across the state line in Tippah County, Mississippi at the outbreak of the Civil War.   Nearby was the farm of their uncle, Samuel Young Ragan and his family. My grandfather Jacob William Ragan (1894-1972) was the son of Nathaniel Francis Ragan (1863-1926), who in turn was the younger brother of the boys mentioned.   My grandfather had told my father Robert Nathaniel Ragan (1914-2003), the story many times of the brothers differing affiliations and the choosing of different colors and flags to

                                                                  For all of your Grandsons and Granddaughters, Now and for Generations to Come Nowhere was guerrilla warfare more fierce and widespread than in southeastern Missouri, and Wayne County in particular.   The Cavalry Militias in Wayne County for both Union and Confederate forces were commonly engaged in this form of warfare, hunting each other in the bottoms of the St Francis River and the mires of Mingo Swamp. Their engagements were bloody, often, and feudal in nature. The families on opposing sides knew each other and most lived close to each other at the war’s outset.   The hostilities and feuds would continue on for many years after the Civil War ended in Wayne County. The prominent Union Militia was the 12 th Regiment Cavalry Southeast Missouri Volunteers, which morphed into the 3 rd Regiment Cavalry Southeast Missouri Volunteers.   Madison Wilson was enlisted as a Private in 1862 and served in

The spring is an enchanted place for me, nestled on the gentle slope of oak and hickory clad hills in the Southeastern Missouri Ozarks.   It speaks untold stories of drama and everyday life of my Moore and Wilson ancestors.   And I feel their essence and their gentle spirits every time I visit there. I imagine the first person to drink from the spring beside the hill where the house of John W. Moore would come to stand, was virtually naked and drenched with sweat.   The tribal name by which his people called themselves certainly is lost in antiquity.   Hunting big game now extinct, the crisp, coolness of the water probably shocked and satisfied as surely as it still does today. It is staggering when you think about it, how many of our family have found solace and comfort here.   John W. Moore and Eliza Berry Moore and sons arrived just prior to 1850 from Tennessee and whatever reasons for settling in this remote, rocky, place, the spring would have been critical to