That second week of October, 1951, was, in the words of my dear late mother, the most beautiful week of the year. From her hospital room, she could see the multi-colored leaves of fall grace the Western Pennslvania mountains with a sublime blanket of variegated beauty. Perhaps it seemed all the more beautiful because of the precious bundle that she held in her hands. Of course, that bundle was me.

Although I knew nothing of the radiant fall beauty outside that hospital window, I certainly was well aware of the beauty holding me close to her with all the love in the world. Standing close by was my nervous and ever pragmatic father, who would spend many years thereafter working his fingers to the bone to provide a fine comfortable home for the three of us.

October, 1951, was also a time of birthing for (temporarily) inanimate objects. In sunny California, Clarence "Leo" Fender was putting the finishing touches on an electric bass guitar and amplifier system that he hoped would free players from the upright bass fiddle.

Fender had also recently come out with a solid body "Electric Standard" guitar, called the "Broadcaster," but another company had asked him to cease using that name, as they felt it to be their trademark. As television (invented as early as the late 1920's) finally seemed to be coming into its own, Leo decided to re-name his new invention the Telecaster. He was also working to improve the solid body guitar concept even further, and before long would release a model called the Stratocaster.

Now we'll return for a bit to those beautiful Pennsylvania hills around that same time. Over near the Delaware Water Gap, in a scenic hunting lodge, a representative from Gibson guitars was sitting down at a table with Les Paul and Mary Ford, discussing an interesting-looking guitar displayed before them.

Les Paul had pioneered the concept of a solid body guitar in order to achieve a balanced tonal response when the instrument was amplified. Hollow electrified guitars tended to resonate and howl at different frequencies as they were turned up. At greater volume, the solid-body guitars maintained balance and control of their sounds.

The small, streamlined instrument sitting on Les' leg was the direct result of his discussions with Gibson. Paul had gone to Gibson before, with a proposal to make such an instrument, and had been turned away. With Mr. Fender's solid-body guitar success however, Gibson management allegedly directed that the company find Les Paul and sign him up. And this was done.

The four instruments mentioned above helped change the world of music in ways wholly unanticipated back then. Before they arrived, guitars and basses comprised part of the rhythm section in dance bands. They were often more seen than heard. All that was about to change, very quickly indeed.

After WWII, the big bands fell on hard times. There are a number of reasons for this, but with amplification, the former rhythm sections could now form three and four piece combos and go make money for themselves, leaving the rest of the big band behind.

Out of those same Pennsylvania hills came groups like Bill Haley and his Saddlemen, soon to become the Comets. Groups like Haley's would perfect the template for a small combo sound that would take America's country and pop music worlds by storm.

In places like Chicago and Cleveland, electric guitars and basses powered blues bands, as sons and daughters of former slaves coming out of the Mississippi Delta expertly utilized this new technology. Solid dance rhythms were added to the emotive blues lyrics, and Rhythm and Blues was born.

In Cleveland, around the time of his Moondog Coronation Ball in 1952, disc jockey Alan Freed popularized the term "Rock and Roll" to describe this mix of Rhythm and Blues, Pop, and Country music that was taking America by storm. Although the term "rock and roll" had been around quite a while as a euphemism for, well, you know what, Mr. Freed made it the name of a whole new style of music.

I came from a musical family, having roots deep within the foothills of both the northern and southern Appalachian Mountains. Dad taught in the Lakewood schools, directing bands, orchestras and choirs, and was a well-known professional jazz musician. Mom played trumpet and piano and helped Dad to write songs. Both of my grandfathers were old-time fiddlers, as are Dad and I.

When Paul McCartney started to sing "All My Loving" on "The Ed Sullivan Show," I gave up most of the band instruments that Dad had tried so hard to teach me and my love affair with the guitar began.

To be fair, I hit the drums first, and I loved them. I played through my school years on the drums. But that guitar? Oh yeah! (yeah, yeah!)

As Dad was a piano technician, so, too, did I gravitate to repairing guitars. Before long, I was pretty well known for it. In 1995, the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame called me, asking whether I could help them out with the guitars in their collection, and the legend of "Guitar Guy Gary" was born. When they asked me to participate in an interview for Guitar World magazine, I became perhaps one of the best known guitar technicians in the world at that time.

Over the years, I've used the Fender Telecasters, Stratocasters, and basses, as well as the Gibson Les Pauls, quite a bit. So have many of the greats of the rock and roll world. I marvel at the coincidence of approximate timing with my birth and that of those guitars.

This week, Dad presented me with a pair of ESP LTD guitars for my 55th birthday. These instruments give a respectful nod to traditional solid body guitars, while incorporating some stunning new advances in technology. In a way, I suppose it's like I'm coming full circle. (Except that I'm getting ready to start going 'round again!)

Thanks to Dad, as well as to my late Mom. You both helped and supported me more than you may ever know. Thanks for showing me how important music is to the Pulse of the City.