I was sitting in an auditorium listening to some sort of light musical review. During the program some man yells out and painting to a negro seated several rows behind me yells there's Paul Robeson. Immediately many men congregate near him, and they looked like reporters to me. I looked carefully at the negro and decided that he wasn't actually Robeson and that they in their excitement had mistaken some other person for the singer. Suddenly the reporters changed into armed guards with browning automatics. Another person in another part of the room got up and started to make for the door. They brutally shot him down. Sadistically standing over him, and machine gunning him after he, was dead. 1 got excited and yelled out you could blooded bastards and the audience which during the shooting had not even turned their heads from the performance, looked at me coldly.