Besides being one of the great banjo pickers in American roots music, David "Stringbean" Akeman was famous for the cornpone comedy that made him a regular on the Grand Ole Opry and the 1970s hillbilly variety show 'Hee Haw.' There was nothing funny, however, about the way his pickin' and grinnin' came to an end.

Born into a farming family in rural Kentucky, as a boy Akeman made his own banjo out of a shoebox and thread. Later, he traded two bantam roosters for his first real banjo. Discovered by bandleader Asa Martin in a talent contest, he was invited to join Martin's band. When the boss couldn't remember the lanky newcomer's name, he called him "String Beans." The nickname stuck.

At six foot five, Akeman was also a pretty fair amateur ballplayer. Bluegrass pioneer Bill Monroe, who ran a semi-pro baseball team on the side, asked him to join his squad. For three years in the mid-1940s, Akeman traveled with Monroe's great band, playing banjo and entertaining during intermissions with another performer as the comedy duo String Beans and Cousin Wilbur.

After leaving Monroe, Akeman teamed with two more comedy partners, Lew Childre and Louis "Grandpa" Jones. To accentuate his height, he started wearing a long nightshirt sewn to an absurdly short pair of blue jeans, making him look comically tall with stubby legs. He took his new look to the stage of the Grand Ole Opry, where he remained a top draw through the 1950s. Opry great Uncle Dave Macon took Akeman under his wing, leaving him one of his own beloved banjos before his death. "Hang on, chillun!" Akeman would holler before leaning into another chicken-chasing banjo instrumental.

Beginning in the early 1960s, Akeman, now widely known as Stringbean, released a series of popular albums with Starday Records, a leading country music label. In 1969, he was recruited as an original cast member on 'Hee Haw,' where he showcased his old-time banjo-playing virtuosity and his deadpan sense of humor for a national television audience.

A child of the Great Depression, Akeman had a lifelong distrust of banks, and he was well-known to travel with thousands of dollars stuffed into the bib pocket of his overalls. After an Opry appearance on a Saturday night in November 1973, he and his wife, Estelle, returned home to their modest cabin in Ridgetop, Tenn., where they were confronted by a pair of brothers who had been ransacking the house looking for the couple's savings. The intruders shot Stringbean at point-blank range, then chased his wife and shot her, too. The next morning, Grandpa Jones, the couple's next door neighbor, found the bodies.

The brothers, who never found the Akemans' money, were sentenced to 99 years in prison for first-degree murder. More than 20 years later, a tenant at the cabin uncovered $20,000 in rotting bills stashed behind a loose brick in the fireplace.