Abbot Kinney, the founder of Venice, California, treated blacks fairly, welcoming them as builders of the evocative canals that gave Venice its identity.   Perhaps no African-American derived more direct or longer-lasting benefit from Kinney's openness than did Irving Tabor, his personal chauffeur. Abbot and Irving traveled everywhere together, even sleeping overnight in Abbot's fine automobile when southern hotel owners refused Irving admittance. When Abbott died, he deeded his house to Irving. However, the same hostility that barred Irving (and thousands of other blacks) from entry to whites-only hotels, also made his family unwelcome in Kinney's old neighborhood. So Irving Tabor exercised the Wisdom of Solomon: sawing his house in twain, hitching it to his mules, and driving it home, across those famed Venice canals, to its present site, at the southeast corner of Sixth and Santa Clara. Fortunately, Santa Clara, who drove back an invading army by holding aloft a holy, golden monstrance, raised it this time, instead, as a welcoming beacon to Irving and his family and home.