Blind Francis Bickford

Blind Francis Bickford plays the slide guitar in the Black Horse Tavern, living in a back room that used to function as a storage closet. The proprietor, Willie MacTallis, feeds Francis and keeps him clothed and pays him a modest wage in exchange for him playing his blues guitar on stage every night. This isn't straight up charity because the man has a gift, I tell you. His music moves the soul. He wouldn't be out of place playing sold out shows in any city in the world, but he was born in Rochester and likes the feel of Munson, to hear him tell it. That's why he stays.
He doesn't talk much at all, and hasn't told anyone how he lost his sight, only that it's clear that he had vision until he was a young man. His songs have their roots in the Deep South and the folk wisdom and work songs of the cotton fields and the spirituals from the church. When asked how many ballads he knows by heart, he shrugs and mumbles, "Maybe a thousand," and I don't think he's bluffing. Some folks says that he made a deal with the devil to trade his sight for his music. That sounds far fetched to me, but anything's possible in this town.
Prof. Amos Church has analyzed the lyrical quality of Francis's songs and has named him "our modern day Cassandra" claiming that Francis is "touched" from beyond and his folk songs are less stories of the past and more premonitions of what has yet to come. Amos has also said that he can spy some members of the audience grow visibly agitated with the lyrics of Francis's song, almost as if he is laying bare all their secrets. Again, far fetched, right? Right?