Being with Mance Lipscomb in Norman, Oklahoma

By Gwyn Henry

Hello Bryan,

Just to let you know how much I enjoyed your page on Mance Lipscomb, as well as the link to Michael’s page w/the pictures and other reminiscences and letters.

I met Mance in (about) 1964 in Norman, Oklahoma when I was a student there at the University of Oklahoma. I was a fledgling (aspiring) folk singer/guitar player living in a small apartment complex inhabited by college students. Just across the courtyard, my neighbor was Bud Davis, a Martin guitar luthier, a grad student, musician and well-connected to the folk/blues scene in nearby Okla City. Mance had a gig in OkCity that night, & had come home with Bud to spend the night.

After they returned, there was a late-night impromptu living-room session by Mance, and believe me, that little living room was absolutely crammed with people, even some standing outside the screen door. I sat on the floor right at his feet, sipping red wine, big-eyed, and listening to the wonderful sounds that came from his guitar and his mouth.

I do remember feeling there was something like “home” to his music, maybe because my grandfather had played his guitar for me all the time I was growing up and there were elements of that in Mance’s music—they were of the same generation and roughly the same locale…Tex/Okla, and both farmers. Although there was also something more to Mance’s music—grandfather was white and of course, this made all the difference in their life experiences.

My memory is hazy today, but I’ve never forgotten that night or his name, and I do seem to remember the song about “Cap’n.” Most of all what I remember is that I felt like I was sitting at the feet of some kind of a music God, and the gentle/genteel presence he had, and how very, very ancient he seemed…almost like he was already an Ancestor. I like to believe something of Mance, his music, and that moment in time, rubbed off on me, some little bit of his energy, and fell into the mix of who I am.

Today, when I looked at the pictures of him on Mike’s site, that were taken about that same time, I thought, “Why he doesn’t look so old at all!!!” Ah, well, you know how it is when you’re twenty.

His visit was the talk of the complex for weeks, and I was convinced, and remain so today, that I’d been in the presence of SOMEBODY, and it would be a story to tell way on down the road—so thanks for letting me tell it to someone who can appreciate it!

As an after note, the next day, Bud spoke of his amazement at Mance’s stamina…we must have stayed up till 3–4:00 am, and Bud said, “That old man was up before I was, by 6:00 o’clock, dressed and ready to go catch the bus.” I guess Bud took him to the bus station to catch a bus for his next gig, wherever that may have been.

Best Wishes,
Gwyn Henry