(pictured above) Wil Kelly and Rob Bennett
This isn't a story about a stolen guitar. OK, maybe it is. But more importantly, it's a story about one man who decided to do the right thing, and to give up something that he loved. His guitar.
Can you love a guitar? I have learned the answer to that question, and it's a resounding 'yes'.
Twenty years ago, and just two weeks after we met, my now-husband Rob signed over his entire paycheque to buy a 1974 custom Fender telecaster at Songbird Music on Gladstone Avenue. There was nothing left over for rent, or food, or gas. But this was the 'Keith Richards' guitar, it was rock 'n roll, it was attitude, it was midnight black, road-worn and stripped of paint in spots from being played to death. Rob had to have it.
That vintage Telecaster became part of our lives. We lived in the country, which meant that speakers could be turned up to `11` when the boys came over to rock in the living room. The guitar always seemed to go with us, wherever we went. It defined Rob`s sound when he joined `The Bleedin`Hearts`, a popular band in the 90`s known for sweaty rock `n roll, playing rock clubs and festivals everywhere. Since I was the one with the pick-up truck, the band`s gear often travelled with me. I always liked carrying the case that contained the black Telecaster because it made me feel like I was part of the band. (without an ounce of musical talent this was as close as I would ever get!)
In January of 1994, Rob`s black Fender `Telly` was stolen. Someone had kicked the door open at the band`s practice room on York Street and everything was taken. A police report was filed but Rob was given a stark statistic; only 2 percent of stolen guitars are ever recovered. Rob was devastated.
Other guitars would be bought or traded over the years, but nothing would even come close to that beat-up axe. It wasn`t just a guitar. It was like our house in the country, our dog Bono, our pick-up truck, it was part of the back-drop of our lives.
Fast forward to June, 2011. Rob and I were at a sneak preview of the new Ottawa Humane Society, where we bumped into Wil Kelly from CUPE 503. Wil and I knew each other through the 'Rock for Public Services' series of concerts. Within a few minutes, Wil turned to Rob and told him, 'I have your guitar. Your black Telecaster.'
Wil told us the story. He had purchased the guitar at a legitimate guitar shop in Ottawa five years ago. He had no idea of the guitar's history. But recent information had surfaced, and we discovered that seventeen years ago, Rob's stolen Telly had been unceremoniously dumped at a pawn shop. From there- it exchanged hands more than once- until the day that Wil spotted it and had to have it.
Ottawa's musician community is tight-knit, and they look out for each other. The story of Rob's stolen beat-up Fender Telecaster eventually made its way to Wil Kelly. Someone had made the connection: Wil's unique guitar with the dents and faded paint was, in fact, the guitar that was stolen from Rob in January of 1994.
Wil loved that vintage Fender Telecaster. He referred to it as 'his baby'. Several musicians had offered to buy that guitar from Wil, but he would never sell. It was just too precious to him.
Sunday evening, Wil arrived on our doorstep with a beaten up guitar case, containing an equally beaten up 1974 custom Fender Telecaster. Rob's guitar.
Wil handed Rob the guitar case. After seventeen years, Rob was re-united with his old friend.
Wil Kelly is a big man. With an even bigger heart. As difficult as it was, he did the right thing. My husband is appreciative beyond belief.
I'm sharing this story because it's a wonderful example of faith in humanity.
Thank you, Wil Kelly. Enjoy the karma. You've earned it.
