The first guitar I had was a really beat up 1917 Gibson L-1. A woman was selling off a bunch of old guitars her husband (long since gone) had played. It sounded great to me, though, and I came to know that guitar quite well. There were signs of wear in certain places, for example on the top way up near the neck. Lo and behold, the best sound came out of that guitar when played in that precise spot. I always believed that the soul of the original owner had permeated that old wood, and that he actually "taught" me how to play that guitar. I hope to be able to imbed part of me into a couple of the instruments I play. I have always thought it would be nice to pass them along to my children, but so far, no interest in playing on their part. I would never want to take an instrument with me when I go. I would hope that some part of me would go on and show up in someone else's music someday, the way that part of that person did with that old L-1.

dw