He was in the Navy while living on the West Coast, but later found his way to Clarksville, TN and then to Johnson City and eventually jumped to Nashville where he has lived for the past year.
He lives by himself secluded in the woods and away from people. “I don’t like people,” he told my friend Jerry and I, “I don’t socialize,” he said, but evidently loved conversation with us after we brought him a large pizza and a new sleeping bag.
We sat with him in the woods where he described the beauty around him. “Over there [pointing], I see deer and I can get almost close enough to pet them. [Pointing] There I see fox almost every night.”
Vincent rarely tells people his name and most call him “Guitar man.” Some of those who work in Nashville guitar shops call him “Three Sting Vinny,” because he often has broken strings.
“When I had a friend living with me, an old man, we would stay up all hours of the night listening to the Opry on the radio (Talking about the Grand Old Opry out of Nashville).” “I started to realize that I cared for him when he was not at the camp, I worried when he was gone,” he told us suggesting that he is all human and alone.
“Music is the wine that fills the cup of silence.” ― Guitarist Robert Fripp