I agree with Easy Rider ... John was unique and wonderful, the epitome of sweet temper, and although shy, a kind of natural diplomat at ease in the world -- even though when I met him he had just been brought out of his lifelong isolation in Avalon, Mississippi. The extraordinary impression he made on me is shared by many of us who met him.

I was lucky enough to share a program with him in late '62 or early '63 at the Showboat Lounge, Washington DC. I was entranced of course, having heard his Spike Driver Blues, Candy Man, and one or two other things. I had already learned, as best I could, his wonderful rolling fingerpicking style, which mesmerized me.

We talked for a little between sets. He was very gracious to me, said he liked my playing onstage (now that, I think, must have been his polite generosity, but I cherish it anyway).

John was one of the gentlest, sweetest people I ever knew. I honestly don't think that was because he was a subservient black of the old school. On the contrary he had a rare mixture of gentleness with dignity.

And oh my, could he sing and play a song. He had a vast fund of them, not a few, I suspect, never recorded. Voice and guitar perfectly blended. A miracle.

His personality was one that has stayed with me from then till now, as a kind of model for kindness and generosity. He appears in my music, whether it can be heard or not. He's one of my heroes, always.

And the song that clings to me like a burr, above all of his that marked me, is "Louis Collins." It's become part of my DNA.

Bob