The Detroit neighborhood where Lexington defense attorney Rawl Kazee grew up no longer exists. A treacherous environment of abandoned buildings and crack houses, it was more likely to send its children to prison – if not to a premature death – than it was to spring them into a legal career. Kazee still remembers the sporadic sound of gunfire at night and the bullet holes that dotted his grandmother’s front door.
So Kazee already had beaten the odds by the time he reached the University of Kentucky to start college in the late Nineties. He brought with him “an edge, a hard edge,” he tells us today: a jaded view of human nature and a fighter’s