Gut Rumbles

April 22, 2007

My friend Steve

Originally published August 17, 2004


That's a picture of Steve, me and Recondo's lovely wife, Georgia at the Crackerbox shortly before Steve died. His doctor had him on some kind of hormone treatments for the cancer that made Steve blow up like a blimp. He was pretty lean most of his life.

Steve also had a 1958 Martin D-28 guitar that someone customized with a lot of pearl inlay years ago. Steve bought it in Nashville and brought it down here for Randy Wood to set the neck and refret it after years of playing. That guitar is a gem. It is one of the finest instruments I've ever played, with a sound that rings like a bell. Randy offered Steve $7,000 for it, but like mine, that Martin wasn't for sale.

After Steve died, his wife Cindy called me and asked what Steve's guitars were worth. He owned several. I told her that she could sell the Guild and the Ovation and the old Epiphone if she wanted to, and a couple of those electrics were worth some pretty good bucks. (Especially that old Ibanez) Just take 'em to a music store and sell 'em on consignment. A good salesman will get what they're worth and put a little money in his own pocket, too.

But I told her NOT to sell that Martin. "Give it to Scott," I said. "Nobody makes guitars like that anymore, Cindy. Scott plays and he will appreciate it for the rest of his life. Besides, his daddy would want him to have it to pass along to his son. Guitars like that one last forever and they just get better with age."

As far as I know, Cindy followed my advice.

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