I am deeply grieved. Chet was one of a kind. My dad's favorite guitarist and one of mine.

"I was on the front porch listening, taking lessons from my Dad

When he tried to teach me Freight Train Blues on the old flattop he had

He would tell about the men who made the music on the frets

But in his mind, the best you'd find was a guitar man named Chet

He talked about old Merle and Doc and Mississippi John

About the magic in the six-strings that they turned into a song

Then for a while he'd sit and smile as he smoked his cigarette

He'd say 'Take my word, the best I've heard is a guitar man named Chet'

Now Chet would play his guitar with his unblemished style

Dad would play it rough as hell but he always made me smile

When he would play he'd laugh and say 'Son, you ain't heard nothing yet

Till you lend an ear so you can hear a guitar man named Chet'."

(from "A guitar Man Named Chet" by Ken Whitfield)

Rest well, Dear Chet. You are a mountain!

khandu