1958 Gretsch Chet Atkins 6120 Guitar, Single Owner

In the words of the daughter of the original owner: Dad's guitar is a Gretsch 6120 made at the end of 1958. According to experts, it features the earliest version of Gretsch's patent-applied-for gold-plated Filtertron humbucker pickups found on the most desirable 6120's. It has an oddity that is known to collectors. Normally, the headstock would feature a horseshoe, but dad's does not. It has an ebony fingerboard with signature Gretsch thumbprint inlays, Bigsby vibrato tailpiece, pickup selector and tone switches on the upper bass bout, and Chet Atkins " signpost" pickguard. As with many vintage models similar to this one, there is deterioration of the binding due to outgassing chemicals in the plastic that was used.

My father, Loel Gene LaMar, was a guitar player and crop duster. He crashed three times, the last accident proved fatal. He was 29 years old. Other than his family, the item he treasured most was his Gretsch guitar.

Dorothy Jane and Loel Gene had a romantic start to their relationship and marriage. Mom was introduced to dad by her uncle at the Lincoln, IL airport. In the beginning, they had a plane; no car. They would fly off to another town for breakfast. Loel was known for being a prankster and bit of a daredevil. Just for fun, he would occasionally "buzz" overhead as friends and family farmed their fields. One day our father came home with his dreamy Chet Atkin's burnt orange electric guitar during a time they were struggling to make ends meet. He paid $800 for the guitar.

He lullabied his babies, jammed with friends, played locally, idolized Chet Atkins and knew him casually. "If Chet saw him he would go out of his way to say hi to Lobo", our aunt told us. Lobo was our father's nickname. Our mother also described a trip they once took with friends to see Chet in Nashville.

In 1964, on a job dusting crops in Arkansas, he died. My sister, Melody, and I were just about to turn four and five years old. He was known to do a dangerous maneuver when dusting crops to save time (and, probably get an adrenaline rush). He would kill the engine on the upswing so that he could make a tighter turn. This was called a hammerhead stall.

A couple of years after our father's death and having moved to Texas, old enough to realize my loss, I would play Chet Atkin's version of Unchained Melody on my little record player and weep and sob as I watched that 45 spin, imagining it was recorded especially for us.

Many years later, Dad's Gretsch was played by my boyfriend, Paul Leary, of Butthole Surfers fame. Paul had oohed and aahed over the guitar and was surprised and honored that he was given the chance to play it. From Paul, "Dee Dee, my memories of those days have gotten a bit hazy. I kinda think the album was "Psychic…Powerless…Another Man's Sac" and the song was Cherub. I hope you fetch a good price for that gem". I remember Paul Leary described playing the Gretsch and that he could hear Loel's ghost coming through the guitar.

Melody and I have always had a deep emotional attachment to the guitar, so when our mother's later husband, Jay, who took a brief interest in guitar playing, decided to scrawl his name on the case, we were furious and traumatized. Years later, we have come to a comfortable perspective about our dad's guitar and our relationship to it. We want to put it into the hands of a guitar player that will fully appreciate and care for it. We agreed to take the proceeds and give ourselves a once in a lifetime trip together, in honor of our father. It's high time for this incredible sounding instrument to get into loving hands.

We've attached a selection of photos that place the guitar in our history. Our parents didn't seem to take a lot of photos. Maybe film processing was just too expensive for them at the time.

The guitar was viewed twice by experts. Once in the late 90's in Texas, and about a decade later by Matt Umanov in NYC. Matt advised against any repair/replacement to the binding or removal of the lettering on the outside of the guitar case. Referring to any perceived imperfections by a potential buyer, Matt quoted Frank Zappa (I think), and recommended they, "Just play the fucking guitar."

As an actor, I"ve often come in contact with playwrights and filmmakers. Maybe one day there will be a movie about my dad's short but exciting life, and his romance with this beautiful guitar.