Uncle Pete Hatton with his 1929 0-18 Martin Guitar. Ruler layed across the top to show damage to guitar.
“The damage to this 1929 Martin 0-18 guitar was caused by the increased tension of metal strings. These guitars are very lightly braced and made to resist the pull of gut strings or very light gauge metal strings. When the heavier modern strings pulled the bridge off and cracked the top, the owner used a trapeze type tailpiece to hold the strings as seen in the old photograph (see above). I have seen this same scenario in hundreds of old guitars.” - Marty Lanham
New photos of guitar courtesy of Marty Lanham - Nashville Guitar Company.

“This old guitar ain’t mine to keep, just taking care of it now, It’s been around for years and years, just waiting in this old case.”

– From “This Old Guitar” by Neil Young

The story of this old Martin guitar begs for me to tell it. This is a tale not only from my past, but about Mom’s family, the Hatton’s past.

The legend starts around 1929 when my great-uncle Pete Hatton purchased a ‘29 0-18 Martin guitar. At that time, C.F. Martin was already almost a century old, having been established in 1833. I have no doubts; Uncle Pete knew the superb quality of the guitar he had recently purchased.

To back up for a minute, my grandpa was Roy Orvel Hatton. He was born in September 1896, the oldest of 10 boys and two girls. My Uncle Pete was the third sibling in line. In 1929, the year he purchased the Martin, Pete was still a young man. In 1930, my Grandpa and Grandma Hatton got married on Valentine’s Day and promptly moved to Hammond, Ind.

While in Hammond, my grandpa and his brother Pete found work at the Sinclair Oil Refinery. Tough work, but they were hard working men with family members to feed, especially during the tough economic times of the 1930s. About this time, Bill Monroe also started working at the refinery. My grandpa drove the tractor and Bill would ride behind on the wagon, picking up barrels. These two men were assigned to work together. I wish I knew a larger portion of the many stories from that work pairing that will forever be lost.

Bill Monroe knew about my Uncle Pete’s Martin guitar. One day, with a playing job in the works, Monroe asked my Grandpa if he thought Pete would loan him his guitar. Pete, being a very congenial guy, was happy to oblige. Monroe brought the guitar back to Pete in a couple weeks. Pete’s response: “You didn’t have to bring it back so soon, I wanted you to play it for a while.” Bill Monroe replied with, “I was afraid something awful would happen to it and besides, I liked it so well I went out and bought one just like it.”

Now you understand why this guitar is so important to me and the Hatton clan. Somewhere around the same time, Bill Monroe left the Hammond area for the road life of a musician and my grandparents and Uncle Pete moved back to southern Indiana.

My recollections of Uncle Pete are from back in the 1960s when my grandpa would take my siblings, cousins and I down to Pete’s gas station in Fritchton, Ind. In that station, we would plop ourselves up on the stools at the counter and Grandpa would tell Pete to get us whatever we wanted. He would serve us ice cold pop from an old water cooler, dream sickles and the greatest tasting candy in the world. It was nothing but sheer joy to go with Grandpa for a Sunday visit to Uncle Pete’s station.

My knowledge about the old Martin never surfaced until years after Pete’s death. I was familiar with the story about my grandpa working with Bill Monroe, but had no inkling of the guitar. This all changed at a family reunion years about 10 yeas ago while talking to my cousin, Ray Hatton.

Ray is the son of my Great-Uncle Bill, the youngest of the 12 boys and girls. My grandpa and Uncle Pete were several years older than Uncle Bill. Ray, knowing I was a big music fan, proceeded to tell me about the history of the guitar he possessed.

Ray farmed the land that Pete and his lovely wife, my Great-Aunt Eva, owned. Pete and Eva had one daughter, Phyllis, who died at the early age of 37. After Pete died and their daughter passed as well, Aunt Eva presented Ray with the prized instrument. She knew Ray loved music and had been in bands throughout the years. Ray was hesitant to take it, but finally caved in under the persistency of Aunt Eva.

The guitar has been virtually unplayable all these years. The bridge on this old Martin kept rising and consequently raised the strings to the point of making it difficult to play. It became so difficult for Uncle Pete to play that he turned it into a “Hawaiian guitar”, an instrument that could only be played with a slide.

By the time Ray acquired the guitar, it was virtually useless. Ray kept it in the old case, only getting it out occasionally to show someone who might be interested in the instrument and its wonderful story. Ray, being a fine musician, always wanted it fixed, but didn’t know who he could trust to restore the instrument.

This brings the story to today. As we speak, the guitar is in the hands of Marty Lanham, owner of the Nashville Guitar Company and one of the premiere guitar restorers in the world.

This article is meant to be the beginning of a work in progress. In future installments of the story, we will discuss how Marty was chosen for the restoration of this project. We will also observe a behind-the-scenes look at a detailed restoration of this old Martin.