We made a pilgrimage to Mandolin Bros. in 1997 while visiting New York. There were only four or five glass cases with one or two instruments in them. Otherwise anyone could pick up any instrument and wail away. And I'm talking about $65,000 DeAngelico New Yorkers, Stromberg archtops, 1920s Gibson Lloyd Loar masterpieces of every type, even original Orville Gibson instruments. Just a staggering array of the finest instruments, on stands. Not hanging on the wall, but right in front of you. No do not touch signs anywhere.
That's my main recollection of the store, the fact that there was only one counter, and otherwise there was nothing between you and the instruments. They trusted you. I've been working in music stores for decades, and I've never felt so at home anywhere but Mandolin Brothers (and the Folk Music Center in Claremont, CA., another store that allows customers to play freely.)
It's one thing to peer at a pre-war Martin D-45 from ten feet away, quite another to pick it up and play it to your heart's content. It was the relaxed, friendly attitude, especially Stan's. Sure! Play anything you want! D'you know any bluegrass?
He really was the nicest man. We had a great conversation about the Dopera brothers (inventors of resophonic instruments), who were friends of my family. If you could play at all, he pointed you to different instruments to try. (When he heard me playing the third movement of Joplin's The Entertainer Chet-style, he got excited and insisted I play the whole thing - again - on Doc Watson's own Gallagher guitar. My knees nearly buckled. It was one of the highlights of my life. My god, what a guitar! (Doc ate a lot of barbecue, that's for sure.)
I didn't know he had passed away until I read the article. I honestly cried, because he really was the nicest guy you could ever hope to meet, and a walking encyclopedia (thanks, Jiminy Cricket, for teaching me to spell that word) of musical instruments.
