Clifton "Cliff" Louis Vincent

My Dearest , Dearest Friend & Sweetie
I will miss you so much, but your pain was so great, that God knew you could not take anymore.. You are now in his arms.
If I could have beared some of your pain, I would have.
I was so hurt when I had to put you in Assisant living. We both cried, you wanted me to take you home.
You said "I wont be any trouble".I knew you were not going to be trouble. But I just couldn't do it. I wasn't strong enough.
I remember when you use to call me up and sing to me,what a beautiful voice.
Thank you for the beautiful memories.
I will always love you,
you are now with Easter.
I am sure she is happy to see you.
God Bless You

PawPaw,

You are the only Paw-Paw I knew and you always took good care of Maw-Maw. May you rest in peace!

I am another niece, the daughter of Elena. One thing that was very certain was his devotion to his mother, Momo. It was mutual. The many times I slept in the middle bedroom at Momo's house it seemed that it was Uncle Clif's room. His extra shoes and clothes where there and along side the rack was his hormonica. During those years in the 1950's he may have come and gone but his home base was that middle bedroom.
This touched my core. He was loyal and loving.
Through the years I wanted him to know that I loved him and often told him so. The twinkle in his eyes and smile revealed that he delighted in hearing this. What kept me feeling a connection with him is that I truly felt cared for and loved by him.
He told me that his Dad died when he was very young and that he remembered waiting everyday for his Dad to come home from work. Then Uncle Cliff would run into the open arms of his Dad. It is overwhelming to imagine that Uncle Cliff ran one last time into the arms of his Dad. Oh,such long awaited joy!
Thank you, Uncle Cliff for being so significant in my life. You will live forever in my heart.
Love, Mary Collins Ammermann

My deepest sympathy to all the family members of Clifton.

As the oldest grandchild on the Vincent side, my memories of Uncle Clif naturally go back a bit farther than my siblings or cousins. Uncle Clyde, Uncle Clif, and Aunt Hilda were all teenagers when I was born in 1944. Uncle Clif was always a private man, very quiet, and loved to look all spiffed up, especially the hair with that well-combed flip. He had such a great smile! I always thought he was such a handsome man!! When I visited Notre Dame cathedral in Paris, France in 2000, I lit a candle there for him and Esther. I called him later and told him I did that because he had sent Mother a postcard from there in 1945, when he was in the service, telling her how beautiful it was. I remembered that and wanted him to know; he was happy I thought of him and that postcard so many years later. We didn't talk often, but I did get the chance to visit with him in May and told him then that I loved him and wanted him to know that. We both cried, talking about my mother.
God bless you, Uncle Clif, and give Mother and Elena Mae each a big hug from me!
Your niece, Cheryl

One of my earliest memories of Uncle Cliff is of him on the couch at our house playing guitar. He was singing what I later learned was a Hank Williams song, “Your Cheatin Heart”. He was slouched back with his head pointed to the ceiling like a howling wolf. When he sang loud and his voice cracked in a yodel. He was 100% into it. I was transfixed. Years later when I first hear Hank Williams sing I remember thinking to myself “That guy sings like Uncle Cliff”.

At the time I was only 5 or 6 years old, but I was already smitten by music. Not sure why. Maybe it was Dad playing “You Are My Sunshine” and “Golden Slippers” on the harmonica. Ernie, Dick, Clydelle and I loved when he played for us and would hound him until he did. We made him play those songs over and over. Years later I learned that it was Cliff who taught him those songs on the harmonica. When I got my first guitar I found out that Dad could play the guitar too, also thanks to Cliff.

I suspect that in all of our lives we can trace key turning points back to a particular incident or influence. In my life that pivotal influence is easy to identify. It was the music that my father could make. And when I trace that key influence just one step farther, I find my Uncle Cliff.

I was able to visit with him a couple of months ago and I took the opportunity to tell him of the role he played in determining my life’s path. I asked him how he learned to play guitar. He said a friend of his named “Lame Brain” showed him some chords. When I asked why he was called “Lame Brain” he said he couldn’t remember. I guess that’s just as well. When it comes to tracing the key influences in your life, the people who helped make you who you are, it’s best to know where to stop. In my case I’ll draw the line at Uncle Cliff.

Thanks Uncle Cliff and happy trails. Tell Hank hey.

Love,
David