Gray smoke pours from the six-shooters.

"Blam! Bang! Bam! Blam!"The volley of revolver fire halts. The sudden quiet is quickly broken by a shout from one of the gunmen: "I've got you now!"

The reply comes in a calm Southern drawl: "Yer a daisy if yuh have."

A new round of shots explodes and puffs of gray linger in the air. A cowboy staggers backward.

A fallen compadre yells a warning: "Don't fall on me, Clyde!"

The Southern-accented man in the black hat and formal white shirt lowers his black revolver and admonishes: "You can't say that - you're dead!"

That gets a chuckle from the men in Western garb, who soon get ready to square off again in a re-enactment of the famous gunfight at the O.K. Corral.

There's plenty of gunsmoke these days in this conservative, tranquil town that has re-embraced one of its native sons - the hard-drinking, bad-tempered Doc Holliday, a gambler who had a girlfriend named "Big Nose Kate" and was reputed to have gunned down as many as three dozen men.

After almost a century of ignoring Holliday, a Southern gentleman who went west and became a legend, Griffin plans the first "Doc Holliday Days" festival - an attempt to attract tourists to this town of 23,000 about 35 miles south of Atlanta.

"For years, people didn't want the association with Doc Holliday," said Bill Dunn, a 57-year-old businessman and lifelong Western buff who organized the tribute to his distant cousin.

"He's gotten a bad rap," Dunn insisted.

In Griffin, there have been sporadic Holliday-connected events and a couple of rodeos staged in his name. But there was little permanent commemoration until Dunn fashioned a personal collection of memorabilia into the Doc Holliday Information Center in time to draw a steady trickle of visitors from Atlanta during the 1996 Summer Olympics.

The exhibition includes photos, letters, pieces of rail from Wyatt Earp's mine, movie posters, a Doc Holliday cap pistol and a child's lunchbox.

"This is one of those things that five years from now, we may look back and say this was the beginning of a mega-hit," said Richard Crowdis, Griffin city manager. "We think this is going to put us on the map."

Dunn notes that Holliday (1851-87) saw the genteel South of his childhood devastated by the Civil War, then completed dental school only to be diagnosed with tuberculosis. He moved to the West after a doctor told him he could survive longer in a dry climate.

Others had a harder time surviving with Holliday around.

Whiskey eased his sickness, but the tuberculosis soon forced Hol-li-day to give up dentistry in favor of gambling. His physical weak-ness also forced him to develop skill with guns and knives - and in self-promotion and exaggeration.

Historian Ben Traywick believes Holliday, "an orchid in the cactus patch" of the Wild West, may have killed as few as two men.

This weekend's festival will include a "birthday banquet," presentations by Holliday biographers and Wild West performers, and re-enactments of the fabled O.K. Corral shootout - the 27-second gunfight in Tombstone, Ariz., in 1881.