The Guitar Under the Stairs
Three generations, one instrument, and the music that connects us all
by Steve Polecastro
I literally wouldn’t be living the guitar life I have today without this story.
Every Friday, I get to share someone else’s Guitar Story—stories of courage, rediscovery, and connection that remind us why we play.
But today is different.
Because this is my beginning.
It’s my dad’s story.
It’s about the old guitar that sat under the stairs for twenty years before becoming the spark that started my own guitar journey.
Without that spark, I don’t know where I’d be—or who I’d be. It blows my mind to even think about it.
This story means the world to me, and I hope it reminds you of the people who helped you find your spark for music.
And maybe… that you might hold the key to someone else’s.
—Tony
The dust was thick when my youngest son pulled that old acoustic guitar from the crawlspace under the stairs.
Twenty years of neglect had settled on its surface like a blanket of forgotten dreams. I watched him brush it off with the same curiosity I’d once felt as a kid, and something stirred in my chest—something I thought I’d buried for good.
It all started with four guys in suits on a black-and-white TV screen.
February 9th, 1964. The Beatles on Ed Sullivan.
My brother and I sat transfixed, and by the end of that week, our parents had signed us up for guitar lessons. Through grade school and high school, we lived and breathed music.
We were in bands, we were those kids with guitars slung over our shoulders, dreaming of stages and screaming crowds.
After graduation, we made it happen. We played clubs all around the Chicago area, chasing that electric feeling of connection between performer and audience.
For a while, it felt like we were living the dream.
But then life got real. Marriage. Responsibility. The need for a steady paycheck.
I faced the choice that so many musicians face: keep chasing the dream or build a life. I chose life.
I sold most of my gear, keeping only one acoustic guitar and a bass. I have no regrets—it was my choice, and I’d make it again.
The guitar went under the stairs, and I got on with the business of being a husband and father.
Twenty years later, watching my son hold that dusty instrument, I felt something I hadn’t expected: hope mixed with heartache.
I wasn’t the type of dad to push my kids toward my own interests. I wanted them to find their own paths, and I’d support them however I could.
But when he started asking questions—how to hold it, how to make it sound like music instead of noise—my heart swelled with a pride I hadn’t felt in decades.
“Show me what you know, Dad.”
What I knew didn’t take long to share. My fingers were stiff, my memory rusty. So I called my brother, and he came over to fill in the gaps. Soon we were jamming in the basement once a week, three generations of music filling that cramped space with something that felt like magic.
I was so proud of my son. But more than that, I was proud of us—this thing we were building together.
When he left for college, my brother and I kept playing.
We started hitting open mics around town, two middle-aged guys reliving their youth but somehow making it feel fresh and new.
Never in my wildest dreams did I think I’d be in a band again. Never thought I’d feel that electric connection with an audience again.
My son would come home from college, and we’d jam. Each time, I could hear how much better he was getting—better than I’d been at his age.
Watching him play, listening to him find his own voice through those six strings, I thought to myself: I could die right now and my life would be complete.
But that wasn’t the end of the story.
Years passed. Life happened. My son moved away, started his own family, his own career.
The regular jam sessions became occasional visits, then holiday gatherings where the guitar might come out for a song or two.
But the music didn’t die. It multiplied.
Now I listen to my grandson play, and it does my heart good. He’s so talented. When I watch his fingers find the frets, when I hear him working out melodies in his head, I see that same spark my son had, that same spark my brother and I caught from four guys on a TV screen decades ago.
The guitar has expanded our family in ways I never expected. Through online communities and musician friends, I’ve found an extended family of players who record and share songs with each other. I wouldn’t trade the world for the friends I’ve met through guitar.
Sometimes I look at that old acoustic—the one that spent twenty years under the stairs—and I think about the stories it could tell. The many hands that have played it, the great joy it has brought me, the connections it has created.
It’s more than an instrument now. It’s a bridge between generations, a keeper of memories, a promise of music yet to come.
I still have that guitar. And maybe someday another grandson or granddaughter will pull it out from wherever it’s resting, brush off the dust, and ask their father how to play it.
I saw the show your dad watched…..four guys from Liverpool taking over the world. I think anyone of a certain age did, and then picked up a guitar. Seriously don’t think my life would have been as full if I hadn’t seen Ray Charles when I was 11 and pushed me to my first instrument, trombone. You’ve got a great dad, Tony! Tell him another old “kid” from Chicago says hi!
I let my guitar let in it’s case for about twenty years. But I have picked it up again thanks to your inspiration.
Thanks
Good story of family, friends and life.
That’s great ~ and now we are all part of your extended family!
Keep on rocking…
What a wonderful yet simple story of close families enjoying and engaging in music together. It warms the heart
Oh, how lovely!! And yes, my eyes got misty! Love your story! Thanks…
Great, thanx Tony! I started playing at 49 on accustic, my son looking on me year after. Now he is playing on electric and I proud him, it’s really like “life succeded”:)
Steve,
I love your story and the connection the guitar made in your family. I, too, was inspired by the Fab Four. My performances have been mostly playing my daughters to sleep at night, but it has gone generational. I’ve been playing my grand-children to sleep for sometime. Now in my old age, I’m putting my buddies to sleep with my playing and occasionally keeping the neighborhood wake with my wife and I singing and laughing together.
It is a great story, one that I can relate to. I have always had a fascination with the guitar, concert, Eddie Van Halen and so many more wishing I could do that one day. At 14 started guitar lessons, but after about a year my teacher quit teaching and I went off to college, still with the guitar but it sat in a corner. After college I went to work and later got married and for my birthday my wife took me to a music store and told me to pick one out and I did and that was about 19 years ago. I am self taught mostly but I come from a musical family, mom mother and her brothers sing, one can plan anything you put in his hands, but he is no longer with us and my grandmother played the violin. One of my father’s best friends played in a bluegrass band and I would go over kind of jam with them but couldn’t keep up so I would stop. He would elbow me and say “pick up that guitar boy, you ain’t going to learn if you don’t play”. He had passed as well but I miss those days, he and his wife were wonderful good country folks from south Mississippi. He you to tell me, “your not going to be a player like me boy, your going to be a picker, you have the talent”. But after he died I got comfortable where I was and didn’t really progress that much, but I still played often. I found TAC which kicked me out of my comfort zone, and I also started playing in our church band and will be on the stage this Sunday playing worship music, which I love to do. I love the guitar and have four daughters that have no interest, one has played with me and did well, but is more interested in her nails, than the guitar. My guitar is part of me and always will be and hopefully I will have a granddaughter or son that will take up the guitar and run with it.
Will
Beautiful story Tony> I had the same dreams but never got to play the guitar until I was older and I could never make the connection. I played a little in church but not much. I bought a guitar back in 2016 and never looked back. Since then I have had Martins D18 &D28. But now I have OOO18 And ZagerZAD900OM love both. I have several electric guitars which I love to play. I started an online course With Breakthrough Guitar and that led me to you which at this point I started at the beginning so I could start learning Chords up the fret board. I now know the fret board pretty good now I’m putting it all together so I can play songs. Thanks again Tony for the story. I’m probably pretty close to your dad’s age but I am ready to rock.
What a truly great story. Thanks so much for sharing!
What a heart warming story. The connections made through music are magical. Thank you for sharing
I love this story. What a beautiful legacy. Thank you, Steve and Tony for building a legacy that has reached so many. That includes their children and their children and so on. What a gift!!!
Great story
love that story; beautiful
Love this story!
Thank you Steve, for sharing your story. Makes me want to begin jamming with my 34 year old son. I’m reaching out to him today.
Cool story. Always glad to hear such memories. My son plays far batter than I do and can sing like a canary which I could never do, so the beat goes on. In Opportunity, Montana there’s no teachers or luthiers, but thanks to your lessons I stumble along in 3/4 time since I’m 81, and have become my own guitar setup and repair person. The magpies, deer, rabbits, chipmonks are my audience and that’s all I need. I’ve learned more in the last few months few months than the prior 79 years so know that you’re appreciated. I got to play Charlie Prides old guitar which a friend still owns, so that’s just a strange side note. Rick on and keep rolling.
great story, my progress is slower than I had hoped for. I will continue to plug awasy
Thanks to your dad, Tony!
Awesome read. You are fortunate. I am closing in on my one year anniversary of starting TAC and how enjoyable it has been. At age 65, I am now admitting that I am a guitarist and can’t wait for another year of growing in this life long dream. Thanks for your encouragement!!
The fruit doesn’t fall far from the tree!
Love this story, Tony! Are you the grandson Steve is talking about?
For me it was the memories of our family singing together when my sister learned to play in her early teens. I would pick up her guitar at times and fiddle with it but lessons weren’t offered and I didn’t ask for them (what a fool I was, now I long for those lost years of musicianship!)
What a great, and inspiring story! Love it and thanks so much for sharing. I truly believe the guitar is an inspired an inspiring instrument. I have a story too, which I, hopefully, can submit soon. Thank you!
Music…what a great family tradition.
What a great and inspiring story. Thank you for sharing!!
Thanks it was a great story and I always enjoyed listening to my dad as a kid. He really enjoyed his time playing
Wonderful story. Besides the magic of entertainment; i have a brother and my oldest son who have anxiety/anti social issues and each time i have seen them pick up the guitar (far too seldom); and those issues melt away and give them a form of peace, inner joy and strength that seems to escape them in their daily journey. So; I always thought that one day I’d like to learn guitar to feel that magic and perhaps encourage them to play more often too. I truly feel guitar play can soothe the soul!
Great story Steve — (and Tony)! Some of my favorite memories are family jam sessions, listening to my cousins play guitar(s). That is a gift that you will continue to cherish together, and Tony, your lessons have been the catalyst for my own guitar journey. Better late than never! Thank you for sharing!
Great story!. My grandpa gave me my first guitar when I was 9, 1956 His daughter, my mom, went to work at a local turkey restaurant in Chester, NJ. She worked hard to afford my guitar lessons with a local housewife that played country music. We were very poor. Lessons were $4.00 per hour. I was infatuated with Paul Anka’s ” Put Your Head On My shoulder and stopped at a local pizza place in Mendham, NJ on the way home from school daily in 3rd grade to play the juke box over and over and would get thrown out. Spent my 35 cent lunch money to listen. It was the first song I learned to play and sing. I played and sang in a couple bands in high school, then a Gospel group nationally for years So much more to tell but I am still playing and singing at my church, nursing homes and a couple restaurants in the area I live. It has been a great ride. Thank God for my guitars, my grandpa. mom and music.
That is one cool story! Thanks for sharing!!!
Thank you for sharing your story, Tony. It put a smile on my face this morning!
Thank you for sharing that inspiring journey, and to hear how it all began
What was the name of your band back in the Chicago days. I was in one as well in the same time period playing all around the western suburbs.
Heart-warming story! Makes me think back to my family of eight and all but two took up guitar. Our jam sessions on our parents veranda were happy times. Thanks for the reminder.
Great Story
Is the son still playing ha ha!
I was feeling a bit down this week.. I tried to get my grandson an early Christmas present, a 3 day guitar workshop with French guitarist Pierre Bensusan, He made enough excuses that I finally gave up. I hope that in 20 years he isn’t pulling his guitar out from under the stairs and regretting missing a once in a lifetime guitar experience.
Watching Peter, Paul and Mary, and how they held those acoustics. Then the Beatles with “Michelle” and “Yesterday”. The acoustic has always been a favourite. Oldest son got the bug in late 80’s, and is self taught, as are his children through piano and drums. There’s a guitar in every room, and they all play, when passing!
Great story from your father, hopefully I’ll get there too.
What a lovely story. I used to sit in the basement with my friend with my Sears knock off electric and he with his bass. I ended up breaking the neck and that was it. Played clarinet in the school band and then music stopped at university. Married with kids and both my daughters took up guitar and were very good. One went to Nashville for 3 months to try song writing. I was so proud but longed to learn that beautiful instrument. Took it up about 12 years when I was in a rebound relationship but my head wasn’t in it. Had a young teacher that wanted me to memorize and learn theory. Lasted a few months and I quit. Today at 62 I am in a better state of mind and have decided to try again. Bought Gibson three weeks ago and see a much more grounded teacher once a week. So far so good.
Approaching my 60th birthday – with alot of free time – and with my son daughter and brother all self taught and playing well- I’ve set a goal to learn. Hoping I have the genes and the patience to make it happen.
The payoff is to sit down with them and play together when the family is together!
First spark, elementary school song flute and singing! Next, middle and high school band and chorus and any special group I could find space for! Next, college pep band and women’s glee club. All led to learning string instruments to accompany myself. Now, my niece and I are “Rosie Girls” performing in our surrounding area! I’m taking Tony’s lessons to gain much better guitar skills!
Great story and motivating because I too have the guitar and I too am going to pick it back up. Thank you for the kick in the arse!
Thank you for sharing your story. Music is the glue that holds families together, even when we live miles apart. I lived those Ed Sullivan/Beatles days as well and while I played in an orchestra for years, it wasn’t until my 70’s that I changed strings from violin to ukulele to guitar, but that’s another story. I love that you are so supportive of your grands, sons and family in their music journey. Pat yourself on the shoulder. You certainly deserve it!!
Great to hear your story, this resonates with me, playing guitar has come and gone for me over the years but it keeps returning, a little different in aim and focus each time. Your guitar is a time traveller too, bringing generations together like that. Thanks for telling us
My father was a lifetime musician and played in a symphony, I had no idea about his skill level until he passed away, and I looked through all of his papers. He even played in the band in the Korean war… But for some reason he never helped us in school or with music. It has been my lifelong dream to be able to at least read music and so at the age of 60 I started guitar lessons… It was a desire I could not squelch even as I got older! You should be proud of yourself for taking the time to show interest in his curiosity, spend time getting over being rusty and share your own gifts and talents! I call it generational love with a soundtrack!
Steve,
Great story. My initial desire to play the guitar startedby seeing the Everly Brothers on Ed Sullivan. While it’s an instrument I’ve never mastered, I still go back to it. Finding Tony’s lesson system on line a year ago has inspired me at 66 years old to keep plugging( or strumming)
Bob
This is fantastic. We all hope to have a sliver of this type of a multi-generational connection. Thank you for sharing!
Brought tears to my eyes. Thank you
Great stuff Steve. I connect with my son once in a blue moon on guitar. Now that I’ve moved closer to Louisville I plan to play some blue moons of Kentucky with him. Still need that settle down relax time though. Praying for those days.
I’m 66 am I too old?
I hope not!! I’m 69 and re-igniting my guitar story!
I know that story all too well well. I have my dad’s guitar. That he played professionally. I played keyboards and guitar professionally back in the late 60’s and 79’s. I had to make that same choice. I miss performing but life definitely got in the way of all that. Thank for the story.
That brings tears to my eyes. An awesome soul-felt story.
For me, it was my mother and her commitment to music. When I left home and started my life, she missed me. But when I shared later that id picked up guitar and led the singing at my local church, she was so proud! And she still is, in her 90s.