business during the great depression.” Then the regulators came in and took the fun out of the business. “My Daddy was 80 years-old,” he said “and still worked with a handshake, helping a lot of people. Farmers, shopkeepers, timber cutters and many others stayed solvent in good times and bad—all based on the word of lender to borrower. But we were growing so fast, his critics were jealous. They sic-ed the FDIC, the FBI and the IRS all at the same time, accusing us of being in the drug business. They stayed in the bank six months and found nothing wrong. Then they left. It just about killed him. “My daddy always told me I was wasting my time being an artist as I would starve myself to death, but my mamma encouraged me—she kept everything.” In college, at the University of Alabama, he had a desire to continue his football career, which started in high school, at the Staunton Military Academy. In 1965, he showed up at the Athletic office wanting to talk to Bear Bryant (legendary football coach of Joe Namath and Ken Stabler, among others). Bryant wanted to know what Crapps was studying. “Economics, Income Tax Procedures, Business Finances,” Crapps said. Bryant retorted, “You go home. Get a letter from your mother excusing the National Champs from what is going to happen to you and come back.” Crapps did as he was told and after Bryant read the note, he put him on the practice field, in what was called “The Bull Ring.” He was up against “the baddest cats out there but they couldn’t get me out. Then in pass blocking practice, I ran over a guard and got hold of Snake Stabler. They had to grab my ass and get me off him and that’s a fact. Coach Bryant liked that.” Crapps career was short-lived, however, and even though he gifted the Coach with a case of Jack Daniels, he was scrapped. Seems they didn’t like his attitude toward the equipment manager when he went back to change and all that was left on his clothes hook was his jock strap.
JOHN MORGAN
JMC with Brooke Shields, NYC 1992
Sun Worshippers, oil on canvas
After four years in the US Navy, Crapps went into the family business. It was and still is very demanding to run a gas company and convenience store and paint, but he has managed with over 200 shows (all documented), fairs, festivals, some galleries and colleges in the south before packing up the poodles and the paintings and heading to New York City. It’s been a tumultuous life but all is fodder for the art. His exploits in Suwanee County are also documented, with mug shots and arrest reports available on line for those interested. He’s been, by his own account, thrown in jail eleven times. “Once I was arrested for playing my radio too loud. My lawyer asked the deputies if they knew what a decibel meter was. ‘How long you been in law enforcement?’ he asked. ‘Six years,’ said one. ‘Five months,’ said the other and my lawyer said, ‘You don’t have a decibel meter in your department? How did you know how loud it was playing?’ ‘We heard the radio.’” They took me to jail in my underwear one night. Tasered me, beat me, paraded me around and the jailer said ‘Boy, this is my house!’ And I told him, ‘Hell no. It belongs to the people of Suwanee County.’ I’ll bet that never happened to Jasper Johns. Fine Art Magazine • Spring 2011 • 31