Clifton Louis “Cliff” Vincent

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