Dear folk friends. Some things you just never give up on. Maybe you can help. I think it was 1969. I had quit electric and by all that I was I wanted to finger pick. It was an urge that on retrospect came out of nowhere. There was just something about the the richness of finger picking that drew me in like a homing beacon. I sold my Gibson Les Paul (the real thing) and bought an Epiphone Texan acoustic. I owned it for 17 years. I played and played and played and played on that thing. For hours, for days, for weeks, for months, for years, I played that thing. I became, well, a pretty good fingerpicker. That guitar became more me than I was. Well you can guess the rest. Santa Rosa California, 1986, it was stolen from me. Is it possible to steal some ones soul? Can you actually steal from someone that which defines what they are? Yes, you can. I have never re-found that part of myself. I desperately want it back. Nothing since has meant more to me. Help me if you can. Can you play a guitar for 17 years and never bother to memorize or record the serial number? Yes you can. When it was stolen it was severely weather checked. It had been on a flight from Minnesota to California which had seriously cracked the surface finish. It had a piece of bone under the bridge to bring the bridge more in contact with the top. It had gold Grover tuning machines. The metal Epsilon was missing from the pick guard. The fret board was deeply worn under the first three frets. It had a custom leather strap. It is quite possibly in the hands of a collector now. If you think that you have seen this guitar or know where it is, you can contact me at peterb@napanet.net Thanks forever.