When Lee Pennington transferred to Berea College in the spring of 1958, the second
semester freshman was immediately was named news editor of the Pinnacle, the
student newspaper.

With way more naivete than he needed, he was asked to go to Boone Tavern and
interview a musician who was going to give a concert at the college. Here is what Lee
remembers about the moment.

Having grown up in the head of a holler in Greenup County, KY and what I knew about
the world probably would have fit fairly easily in our water bucket. I had never heard of
Andre Segovia and simply had no idea he was already recognized, even in the fifties, as
the world’s greatest guitarist.

He invited me in and for the next 4 hours politely answered all my questions and even
permitted this mountain boy an indiscretion I cannot imagine now, and even to this day,

I carry some embarrassment when I think about it.

On the floor, in an open case, was one of the two hand-made guitars that had been
made exclusively for Segovia in Spain. I looked at Segovia and asked, Would you mind
if I play your guitar? I even cringe now, these 61 years later, of having asked that
question.

This gracious gentleman, without any hesitation, said, Go ahead. I am certain, or fairly
certain anyway, that it was the only time that Wildwood Flower was ever played on
Andre Segoiva’s guitar! What I am even more certain of is that this mountain boy stood
before a musical genius and received an act of kindness when that boy’s own
innocence opened the moment to such an unexpected gift.

At Berea College, when Segovia performed in the Phelps Stokes Chapel, we students
paid 35 cents to hear him. It was the most amazing concert I have ever witnessed. With
his guitar on his lap, and to a standing room only crowd in Phelps Stokes with no
amplification whatsoever, Segovia held us spell bound for a very long concert–well
over two hours. As I remember, there were nine standing ovation encores.
The memory of my encounter with Segovia was indelible.

Years later, I was thinking about that concert–what it meant to music, what it meant to
art in general, what it meant to all of us, I came up with the idea for the poem Segovia’s
Fingernail. I wanted to tell about two kinds of people–one who was totally immersed in
art, and another who merely wanted to be seen at artsy things.

Then the idea grew. Thus, Segovia’s Fingernail, the book, was born.