Sears Roebuck Silvertone
Miraculously, Chet’s first guitar survives.
His stepfather brought it home,
where it was first used by older brother
Lowell (the initials carved in the top are
his doing—a girlfriend, apparently). A
motivated Chet traded a year’s worth of
early morning milking duty for the box,
whose neck had been broken and crudely
repaired with a screw. The action was
stratospherically high and difficult.
Walter Carter, sales manager at
Nashville’s Gruhn Guitars, who wrote
the chapter on Chet’s instruments for the
exhibit catalog, says he learned a lot about
Chet through the Silvertone: “Most people
who start on a cheap guitar, as soon as they
show some talent, do anything to get something
better. And the fact that Chet played
this piece of junk for five or six years or
more, it’s mind-boggling. He clearly wanted
to be a great guitar player, and a bad instrument
was not going to stop him.”
In 1936, Chet’s mother sent 12-yearold
Chet to live in Georgia with his
father, chiefly to see if the climate would
be better for his troublesome asthma. It
was, but Chet lost his musical family and
friends. Lonesome, he picked this guitar
for thousands of hours in every spare minute,
favoring his high school bathroom for
its resonance, the one thing that made this
Silvertone sound acceptable.
Gibson L-10
While he was from rural East Tennessee,
Chet did enjoy one rather remarkable and
fortuitous connection in the music business.
His older half-brother Jim played guitar
and wound up in the Les Paul Trio on the
famous Fred Waring radio show out of New
York. Jim acquired this Gibson L-10 from
Les Paul, who’d custom ordered the extended
fretboard. “When (Jim) saw how much
I liked it, he surprised me by giving it to
me,” wrote Chet in his memoir, Me and My
Guitars. “Riding back to Knoxville on the
train, I was so happy I didn’t know what to
do. Every little while I would open the case
just to look at that guitar. I loved the way it
looked and the way it smelled.”
As he would with nearly every guitar
he’d own, Chet modified this instrument,
installing a Vibrola tailpiece and a floating
DeArmond pickup. The former gave him
the tremulous vibrato effect that earned
him the “talking guitar” tagline, and the
latter gave him the volume and nuanced
control he’d been looking for. Chet’s first
serious radio work and his earliest recordings
were made on the L-10.
Sadly, the promising career of this
young guitar was cut short when Chet,
standing on a chair to reach a radio
microphone that nobody could be bothered
to lower, slipped and fell. He did a
chest-plant on the guitar, severely damaging
the body. It was repaired but never
the same, Chet said. He moved on to a
Gibson L-7 with P-90 pickups, which he
installed himself. It was the most invasive
surgery he’d done yet on a fine instrument,
and a learning experience that set
him up for his most audacious act of
guitar modification.
D’Angelico Excel
If a lesser player had tricked out a guitar
this elegant and exotic this way, folks
would have chided him for having more
money than sense. Even Chet acknowledged
that his friends must have thought
he was crazy for so radically modifying one
of the world’s finest instruments. Though
truth be told, Chet ordered his dream
guitar with electrification in mind. The
D’Angelico log books reflect it with their
first-ever order for an “ele.” guitar. Chet had
begun to make decent money, and he custom
ordered this Excel with a Bigsby bridge
pickup and sound posts for a more rigid
top. John D’Angelico was disturbed by the
idea, but he accommodated his young client,
and it was delivered in August of 1950.
Chet took it even further on his own.
Seeking even more tonal control, he put
this guitar under the knife in his backyard.
When he was done, the Excel sported a
P-90 at the bridge and a Bigsby at the neck,
with a 3-way switch mounted in the lower
f-hole. It “would have been considered a
savage assault on the integrity of the guitar
top,” says Walter Carter. “But it just goes
to show you that by that time he’d realized
that the sound of an electric guitar is largely
in the pickup and not in the top or the
acoustic qualities of the guitar.”
This instrument accompanied him
on his career-making journey with the
Carter Sisters, the reconfiguration of the
seminal Carter Family, which featured
Mother Maybelle and her three daughters.
With them, Chet moved to Nashville and
became a fixture on the Grand Ole Opry
and in the young studio system of Music
City. The story is only slightly marred by
another accident. June Carter bumped the
D’Angelico as it rested and the neck separated
in the fall. It took years for it to be
restored to its current condition, but the
loss paved the way for a new chapter in
Chet’s guitar career.