when i was 3 and old enough to comprehend ,my grandfather, whose name was elwood ray keene and i called 'pop'told me a story about his grandfather(it could have been his father,but i don't think so.anyway,he must have told it all through my life.it was of how a black man had stolen chickens and as he ran away pop's ''pop''shot and i guess killed him as he was crossing the fence. and when at this part i'd ask,''then what happened?'' pop said,''he went back to bed and called the sheriff in the morning.i know the story's true cause a lie he would'nt say.he had two rulesthat could'nt be broken ,that,and ''carryin tales''he never mentioned church and did'nt make me go,but he was a tough character and never took a backstep to anyone and if he had something bad to say,he'd say it to your face.a capton in,ww1 camouflage unit, i have articles of admiration by his men and comanders.this thing has bugged me all my life and this year i had a very largeshowing atthe nye gallery in oak bluffs and i believe the best painting was that of a black man lying through a white fence with an old bearded man on one side with his side by side open and two lawmen on the other looking down on the sad sceen of a little black girl washing the blood away with a rag and bucket;a small black boy looks at the frame withfear and anger .the painting is the saddest ive ever seen.it just about painted itself one night. there is alot more to this mystery that i'll leave for another time involving aclipping from a newspaper of an old rundown estate with the name of Glasgow and owners ''tubman and keene families''that pop said was theold family house'' but not where this other took place.