”“And you are in mourning? For, for...” Words failed him and he looked into my eyes and softly said “For John?”“Yes, sir. I think I always...will.”He seemed to have a small tear in his eye as he hesitantly reached out for the bundle I was holding. I nodded and he lifted part of it away.“His name is John Killman Youngblood,” I softly said. He then yelled for his wife, as with amazingly gentle fingers he caressed John's face. A lovely coffee and cream complexion, his dark reddish-brown hair. I wasstudying commercial art in school and found a positionwith an ad agency that fit my schedule and was close towhere we lived. My job required me to work with a lotof different commercial artists around town whilegetting ads scheduled.I got to know one of the artists whose name was Gordonpretty good and would stop by his office several timesa week picking up and dropping off material. One day heshowed me around his building and showed me a fullyequipped studio with lights and backdrops that. More

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