Peter Davis III was born on October 22, 1962 in Oxford, MS He was the third from a long line of wealthy bankers. He was educated at the finest preparatory schools - where he learned the social graces and then some more - usually regarded as social vices rather than social graces. After graduating from preparatory school, Davis enrolled as a freshman at Vanderbilt University in Nashville, TN.

But there was an unspoken, very dark streak in the Davis family. Each generation, the senior male Davis member skirted the law, and often risked everything - including his life. Peter Davis III, was determined not to lead the way of his father and grandfather. But that was not to be the case. Even though he was a good student, it was his irresponsibility at Vanderbilt that got him expelled for carrying on with low-life's and obscenely wild parties.

Davis then enrolled at the University of Mississippi, in his hometown of Oxford, MS.

After graduating the University of Mississippi in 1985, he sought out his high school sweet heart, Amelia Crawford, a graduate of the Oxford girls' finishing school. They had attended Cotillion together during high school, and Peter Davis III gave Amelia a 'promise ring' - that one day he hoped to marry Amelia. She beamed at the prospect that all the wealth, respect, and reputation of the Davis family, might very well come to be part hers, as well.

After Davis graduated from University of Mississippi, he began work as a junior account executive at the Bank of Mississippi, which his father owned and his grandfather had founded. Davis enjoyed banking well enough and was very good at it - indeed - it was in his blood and bones.

Davis and Amelia had a grand wedding in June, 1987 - but not as nice an as the Swarthmore weddings had been. Even though Davis was friendly with Swarthmore and Swarthmore was a good customer at the bank, Davis' one deep sorrow in life was that he was not as wealthy as Swarthmore. Davis' parents gave him everything he could possibly want or need in life. Davis lacked no material possession; he'd traveled the world and he had considerable talents to add to his name.

But like his father and grandfather, the dark side in the Davis family always surfaced, No one in Oxford mentioned it, but anyone who lived there for three generations knew it all too well.

Between 1919 and 1932, Peter Davis I, born in 1900, would take his young son, Peter Davis II, (born in 1924) out back in their property, pull their heavily modified Ford sedan out of the old barn, and fill it with cases of moonshine from the Bourbon still carefully hidden among the Magnolias.

Father and son Davis then raced their cars up Route 1, knowing the Yoknapatawpha County Sheriff was hot on their heels. More often than not, Peter Davis I and Peter Davis II crossed the Mason-Dixon line before the Sheriff and state Marshall did. The one time Davis I was caught, he bribed the Sheriff with a case of sour mash and $500 - a good deal for 1919.

So Davis III's father got an early education in the black market. Back in the moonshine days, smuggling hootch wasn't such a big deal, for many folks, anyway. Why, heck - probably half the counties in the south, enriched themselves in this business.

It has often been said, as noted in the "Oxford Eagle" in a 1933 story after prohibition ended that, "Bourbon and its brothers could be 'stilled', but they would never be quieted." So, townsfolk had an unspoken code that 'stilling 'shine in the face of prohibition was their right and privilege. No one thought any less of Peter Davis I for having been one of the greatest traffickers in 'shine for his time.

However, for Peter Davis II, the education in smuggling hootch became an education in the underground. When Davis II was in World War II, serving abroad, he developed an acquaintance with the Big Boys. Davis II soon discovered his Big Boy contacts could come in handy in helping himself to a few extra helpings of greenbacks. But all this business hanky-panky went on before regulatory measures went into effect that soon would severely restrict clean and untraceable money.

Townsfolk believed that none of the three generations of Davis' wives ever knew about any of their husbands 'behind closed doors' dealings. It was best kept that way, everyone whispered, At times, a few dollars went missing - some in high-flying accounts. But some benevolent person - either underground or above board - always managed to find a way to make the account stop bleeding red ink. But Peter Davis III always worried that one day someone would come calling to collect his debts. That was a day to rue, if it ever came to pass. More than anything, Davis feared if he came up short, he might take a one-way drive to nowhere or be left "swimming with the fishes."