Nobody Special

In February of 2012, Harry Bickel, Harry Sparks, Doc Hamilton, and Vince Gill gathered in Nashville to record these seventeen songs. Even though they had all lived in the same house in the 1970s and had remained in close contact with one another, it was the first time in over thirty years that the four of them had gotten together to play music. Here is how it all happened: In 1975, I was a dentist teaching at the University of Louisville School of Dentistry, playing banjo in a local Bluegrass band and doing a small amount of instrument repair. I had learned to play banjo from J.D. Crowe in the 1960's and instrument repair from a local repairman named Tom Haile. In May of that year, I purchased a twelve-room Victorian house in an historic Louisville neighborhood called the Cherokee Triangle. The house had lots of big rooms and was the perfect place to play music. It wasn't too long before the house became a gathering place for local musicians. It also became a haven for out-of-town musicians who needed a place to stay. My best friend at the time was Harry Sparks (know hereafter as Sparky.) Sparky was an architect who lived about a mile from the house and also worked for the University of Louisville. He was a good musician and singer who played both Bluegrass and old-time music. Sparky had cofounded the Famous Old Time Music Store in Cincinnati when he was in college and had already established himself as one of the finest instrument repairmen in the country. Doc Hamilton had recently moved to Louisville from Austin, Texas. He was well-known out West as a multi-instrumental Bluegrass musician. He was also a great tech guy. He knew everything there was to know about cameras, amplifiers and other such things. His philosophy was I will not be bested by a machine. Doc needed a place to stay, so he became one of the first residents of the house, as it was then called. Since Sparky and I both had a background in instrument repair, it wasn't too long before we established a repair shop in the limestone-walled basement of the house. We were able to keep everybody's instruments up and running and build a few banjo necks on the side. Sparky and I also had a love for vintage instruments which were quite plentiful in the 1970s. We bought, sold and traded instruments all over the country and were able to put some of them in the hands of the younger musicians who lived at the house. One room on the second floor of the house was reserved for practicing, playing, and listening to music. It was, and still is, called simply the music room. One of our favorite things to do was sit around the music room and compare a half a dozen or so Loar mandolins or Gibson flathead banjos, all of which were fairly common back then. In the late 1960s and throughout the 1970s, Louisville was arguably the best place in the country for Bluegrass music. It had become a haven for young musicians, most of whom were in their late teens or early twenties. Since we were all in our 30s, Sparky, Doc, and I were the old men of the group. We were also the only ones who had steady jobs. Two things that young musicians trying to make a name for themselves should not have to worry about are a roof over their head and something to eat. Fortunately, we were able to provide both. One of those young musicians was an 18-year-old named Vince Gill who had just moved from his parent's home in Oklahoma City to Louisville to play in a band called the Bluegrass Alliance. The Alliance was a progressive Bluegrass band that had once contained the likes of Sam Bush, Tony Rice, and a host of others. Having no place else to live, he moved into the band's motor home, which was not the most desirable place in the city to live. Some of the Alliance members who lived at the house told me about him, and they introduced us one night at the Great Midwestern Music Hall. There he was, a tall, lanky unassuming kid with a great smile. I said to him, I understand you need a place to live, to which he replied Yea, I kinda' do. I told him to get his stuff and come on over. It was one of the