When I was 11 years old, on the ride home from Camp Concordia, my dad told me he thought I should take guitar lessons. I wanted to play the Uke like my Grandpa Deater (he played lots of instruments but that was my favorite).
Well, I agreed to the lessons, 7 in all before we had to leave our home town to follow my dads calling to become a minister.
The guitar has been my constant friend, a gift my dad inspired and has supported all these years.
I've played in churches, coffee houses and bar...