Allen Mills, 88, founding member of the groundbreaking band, Lost & Found, passed away in his beloved Virginia home this morning following a period of declining health. A giant in the industry, he was known for a long list of personal accolades such as his laid-back easygoing manner, smooth singing voice, rock-solid bass playing, skillful bus driving/mechanic work, impressive songwriting, and down-home charismatic MC work. Allen was a prime example of a classic southern gentleman who was greatly loved and admired by those of us in the bluegrass community.
Lost & Found, became a pillar of traditional and contemporary bluegrass music, and a favorite at bluegrass festivals across the US, Canada, and Europe. The only original member to remain with the band, Allen toured for four decades until back problems intervened.
Allen joked with Bluegrass Today editor, John Lawless, in 2022…
“I can’t run like I used to. Got a bad case of can’t do what I want, and don’t want what I can. I’m so grateful to all the people who booked us for 43 years, kept us burning fuel, getting [us] down the road. And all the folks that came up and talked to us at shows. So many memories. I don’t regret a thing.”
Born November 7, 1937, Allen didn’t grow up playing music as a child. In 1959, after a stint in the Navy, he came to Danville, VA, and decided to take up music in his spare time.
In his own words, he shared his musical heritage to me two years ago.
“Old friends that I went to school with were plunkers. I wanted to be a plunker too, so I went to a music store on Union Street in Danville and bought a little A-40 Gibson mandolin. I learned two or three chords so I could play a little rhythm. While sitting in with these boys, they were to play a dance, but they didn’t have a bass fiddle. I had an uncle who knew where one was in Rocky Mount, close to where he was raised up. He called it a trick. He said, ‘I know where one of them tricks are.’ He paid for it. It was a total of $50. I piddled around with it and I paid him. It only had three strings on it.”
Allen discovered he had an affinity for music. He relayed to me in a 2024 interview for Bluegrass Unlimited…
“The music, in general, has always been of interest to me. Websters’ definition of music was ‘sounds that are pleasing to the ear.’ That’s it!”
When I asked when he became a professional musician, he humbly replied, “I don’t guess I ever was.”
The band’s name was actually Allen’s idea.
“I was coming home one night and I’m thinking, here’s a bunch of guys that played music, but that hadn’t played together. It was like being lost and somebody putting them together. Lost & Found! It seemed good. You couldn’t forget that. It’s in everybody’s newspaper every day. I told them that night: ‘What about the name, Lost & Found?’ They said, ‘that’s the awfulest we’ve ever heard.’ I said, ‘Let’s use it Thursday night and we’ll come up with something else next week.’ And it never did change. We just went on and used that name.”
Through the week, Allen did body work.
“I was sanding fenders. That was my day job. We got to go to DC and play music. That was way out of the world! I hadn’t played too far from home til then. We were pretty much area musicians until I approached Dave Freeman. The first album we did with Rebel, I shopped it with Dave and he took it. That changed the whole perspective. You became accepted in other circles because Rebel was a very well established name.
We recorded albums in the years: ’75, ’76, ’78, and ’80. We started going here and yonder. We finally got to the point that we were making enough money that we didn’t have to call home to send us some money to buy gas. It was little by little.
Old bus would break down every once in a while. You’d have to get out, do that and fix this. You’d sometimes take a coat hanger to fix something til you could get back home, then we’d fix what the problem was. I’d work on it all week, then take off again on Friday.
I’m thankful for the goodness. We always looked at the positive things. It was an enjoyable time to go on stage to play music, to feel the rhythms like they should be. It’s a pleasure when you go on stage and you ain’t got nobody to worry about, but yourself. The rest of them are going to take care of it and you just hang on.
Every person that I’ve run into, every show that we’ve worked, all across the United States, Canada, and Europe, I feel close to every one of them along the way. They gave me something to do that I really cherished and loved. You can go through programs to detox you from drugs, but there’s nothing that can be done to detox you from music. It won’t work. You’ve just got to have it. You can’t get rid of it and I don’t want to. It’s just in you. It’s a sharing thing.”
Allen was among the founding members of the International Bluegrass Association and was present at the first organizational meetings in 1985.
Lost and Found recorded over a dozen studio and compilation albums, including 14 releases associated with Rebel Records, spanning a 50-year career from their formation in 1973 through their final album, Final Chapter, in 2023. In 2011, Rebel released the 14-track Lost & Found compilation album, Down on Sawmill Road, marking the group’s 30-year anniversary with the label.
Mills and his band racked up a number of awards in his lifetime. Most notably, he received IBMA’s Distinguished Achievement Award in 2019. Lost and Found is slated to be inducted into the Bluegrass Music Hall of Fame during the IBMA Awards Ceremony on October 22 this year.
Allen’s wife, Deb, shared…
“We were tentatively planning for him to come to Chattanooga. I’m very sad about it, but he had good conversations with Paul Schiminger about his wishes.”
Gene Parker, another founding member and original banjoist with Lost & Found, reflected on his longtime association with Allen.
“We started out in 1973. Allen was playing in a country band down in Danville at a barn dance. I told Allen one day, ‘Me and you need to find a couple of guys and play some bluegrass.’ He said, ‘You go ahead and find somebody.’ I had seen Dempsey Young playing (mandolin) up at a fiddlers’ convention at Ferrum College so I contacted him. Roger Handy and Dempsey had been playing together so we got him [to play guitar]. We all started together.
Allen was the kingpin. He done all the work, worked on the old cars and buses. Later on he went out and bought a motor home pretty soon after we started.
He started writing songs. One night we went to practice and he said, ‘If we’re ever going to get anywhere at all, we got to have some songs of our own. We got to start writing songs. Take that hill that you got your little old trailer, Brown HIll.’ He started making up words. It was dark and I stopped at a little restaurant that was getting ready to close. The waitress gave me a brown paper bag and a pencil. I got back in the car and Allen would pop off words and I’d write them down. That was one of the first songs we done. Then he wrote Love of the Mountains shortly after that, and then he wrote several more [such as Wild Mountain Flowers for Mary].
We just kept on going. I played about 14 years and got out in ’87, ’88, somewhere along then. And he kept on going, just as long as he could with different band members.
We were lifelong friends. Allen was always looking for somebody that he could help. That was his nature. He was just a good-hearted fellow.
He finally learned to do a whole lot of stuff on these old buses that we traveled around in, and he saved a whole lot of other musicians a bunch of money. Sammy Shelor said Allen saved him thousands of dollars by helping him do stuff on his bus. That’s just the way he was. He liked to do things for people. He didn’t particularly do stuff for money.
We had a lot of laughs. Last Friday, me and a friend stopped by his house there and talked about old times and things that happened. We had a good visit and then that night he started going down. If me and him ever had a cross word, I don’t remember it as long as we played together. Allen Mills was a dear friend. I just think God broke the mold when He made Allen. I don’t know another person that was natured like he was.”
Steve Thomas, fiddler, shared…
“He had all the skills. He was a businessman. He was a singer and a player. He was certainly charismatic. He could tell a story with a melody or without. One of the greatest singers you could ever hope to hear.
Allen Mills’ greatest gift was making the ordinary seem exceptional. Every visit was special. Every conversation was an event. He loved people, he loved life, and he loved music. He’s one of those treasures that you appreciate more and more upon reflection. The wealth of music speaks for itself, so I’ll speak for Allen and say that he loved you all, the bluegrass community and gave his life to it.
I will forever be grateful for the experience of playing music as a young fiddler with Allen Mills. It was invaluable, what I learned and developed in those young years playing fiddle for the Lost and Found, but it is overshadowed by the friendship. This man will indeed be missed.”
Sammy Shelor, Lonesome River Band banjoist, stated…
“We lost one of the greatest entertainers bluegrass has ever known this morning. Allen Mills carried the torch high for our music for 60 plus years, and helped so many of us in so many ways. He was a wealth of knowledge and inspiration on being a touring musician and keeping a bus on the road. I’ve never known a better friend and father figure. He will be missed by all his friends and music family. RIP, My Friend”
Penny Parsons, writer/marketer/public relations/producer, noted…
“What a wonderful man and friend. I was privileged to interview him twice, and I never got tired of hearing him talk or sing. I remember the first time I saw Lost & Found in the 1970s at Lester Flatt’s festival, and how impressed I was with Allen’s MCing. And another unforgettable memory was at one of the Lost & Found’s last performances at Bass Mountain Park when I was at the top of the hill on the way to watch their show and heard Allen’s clear, strong, distinctive voice ring out through the darkness on his signature Love of the Mountains.
>Chill bumps. RIP, dear friend. We will miss you.”
North Carolina bluegrass radio personality and MC, Buddy Michaels, recalled…
“One of my favorite visits with Allen was near his home in the mountains a few years ago. I met him in the late ’70s at Bass Mountain Festival and remained good friends ever since. Lord, we loved to talk. And a few years ago we got to share a stage at Willow Oak and talked about everything!!! They had to pull us off the stage!!! A highlight of my life!!! Never be another one.
My prayers are with Deb, Melody, and all the family. RIP, my friend.”
Allen is survived by his wife of 47 years, Deb, and three daughters, Janet, Jeanne, and Melody, 11 grandchildren, and numerous great-grandchildren. No specific arrangements have been made at this time. A visitation will be held, followed by a celebration of life at a later date.
I conclude this obituary with Allen’s own words:
“I’ve cherished every minute. We’d go and work our tails off, but we were still gratified. Like Mac Wiseman said, ’tis sweet to be remembered’.”
RIP, Allen Mills, You blessed many with your warm personality and heart-touching music that truly impacted those who knew you. We will all miss you greatly.
