As Cranford Glimp's funeral procession wound its way through the musty streets of Plattsburgh, N.Y., in June 1973, a small boy gazed at the burnished casket and the three mourners trudging after it and asked his father, "Papa, who is in that box?" The answer was not long in coming. "I don't know, son," said the father. "But I expect it's somebody who recently died."
It was a response that would have delighted the ethereal yet sarcastic Glimp, and one typical of the mystery and confusion that shadowed him all his life--a life that produced the most innovative works of art...
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