Here's the message we got from Jim, who had it:
Gentlemen,
I'm very happy the banjo is back in the calloused hands of its rightful picker. Bob, I was going to write in chalk on your front porch, "I HAVE THE BANJO" and keep the suspense going, but thought it might frighten the kids. The banjo brought great joy while housed on Beechwood. We used it as a table centerpiece for a holiday dinner with Suzanne's family. The symbolism was for Suzanne's 95-year-old grandmother, whose husband was a great banjo player and bandleader in the Macon area with his group the Georgia Footwarmers. It brought a tear to her eye. The 3.S.B. also served duty as the "dinner bell" when I would pluck out the call to the table for Arthur. That frenzied playing led to the demise of string #3 during an ill-fated tuning session. So there you have it, the banjo's adventure from the terrifying bends and swirling waters of the Buffalo, to bungalow life in our waning days on Beechwood. Sorry I can't be with you this Thursday evening, but being in the mountains of West Virginia is the next best thing to roughing it at Savarino's with the RRCC.
Cheers. Jim.
