My dad used to be in a band before i was born. He had all kinds of equiptment but my mom made him sell it all before i was born because a responsible father couldnt be in a rock band….after he got rid of all of it she let him replace his guitar…so he went to the pawn shop and picked up an Epiphone (i’m assuming FT120 being it resembles it the most but the sticker on the inside with the serial # and other info is torn out). I grew up with him playing that guitar and it always made me happy. I was so upset when i was 17 and he got his 12 string because i didnt get to hear it as often and i was devastated when i was 22 and he replaced it altogether. He originally gave the guitar to my little sister, then brother, then to one of his roommates…they all kept leaving it behind. He was moving out of his house and i came across it in the closet of one of the bedrooms about 2 years ago…its case wasnt worth calling a case anymore, it was missing a few string but it was in overall decent condition. I was finally able to claim it for myself. I have yet to bring it back to life but i cant remember how many nights we would all lay on the living room floor and my dad would try to pick out some tune of some recently released song(usually sucessfully) or listening to him spend days, sometimes weeks writing a new song that he would play over and over for us. I remember the church campouts by the fire…i wouldnt get rid of this guitar ever…not just because of the memories…but its got a sound that chills me to the bone and it just cant be explained