Decades ago I visited Manchester, Tennessee, the location of Bonnaroo. At that time it was an arts festival without the name Bonnaroo. I visited for the festival with my friend Ada. Ada was mid sixties and I was early twenties (very Harold and Maude). We visited her childhood friend Ella who lived in a big southern house at 103 N. Church Street. I literally gasped when we walked into the central hall. The drawing rooms on either side were hung from floor to ceiling with recognizable Picasso and Matisse masterpieces. Ella and her mother (deceased for several years prior to my visit) would travel from museum to museum with color chips and tape measure in hand. They would then with insane accuracy duplicate the paintings. Ella and her brother, Edward lived together in the house until his sudden death while visiting a local garden center. I had the pleasure of sleeping in Edward's room. Ella had changed nothing except the bed sheet since his death...clothes in the closet...garden journal open to the last entry. On our last morning there I was the first downstairs to find Ella sitting at the table waiting for the coffee to perk. The subject of Edward came up and I asked about his possessions. "Oh... I just pretend that he's out shopping or visiting and will be home at any minute". I don't know what happened to the paintings.