07/02/2026
Carry it from Here
Cindy and I first met David Rowan back in 1994 at our shop Manayunk. A rather well dressed man came walking into our shop with a couple of high-end Gibsons, a very tall statuesque
European wife and a little toddler running around in diapers. The whole entrance of the Rowan family into our shop and our lives at that moment very much resembled a scene out a movie.
The entire aesthetic of their entrance was as ersatz as it was fascinating. Within minutes of meeting David it became apparent that my initial impression wasn’t wrong. He was both
unusual and uniquely engaging. We hit it off immediately and that initial meeting turned into what became a decades long friendship. David was very passionate about his guitars, his
songwriting and his children. David truly understood the importance of all three. One of my favorite songs of David’s is called “Carry it from Here” that he wrote on a Gibson J-45 that his then wife Alexandra had given him. It is a song about loss within a relationship, losing the support you get from having a person to “share the load” with and having to individually each
now carry what was once shared. The song is tinged with sadness, acrimony, and hope all rolled together. I can still remember him playing it and singing it to me for the first time and it was then I realized what a gifted and perceptive songwriter he was.
That J-45 also has a story to it. Once in a fit of pique, pain and passion David smashed the J-45 over the back of Alexandra’s Harley. Afterward David was very saddened that he had
done that and he called me on the phone and told me what he’d done. He said, “I’ve written some really good songs on that guitar. Do you think you can fix it?” I assured him that I could
even though I hadn’t yet seen what he’d done. I was just so moved by the fact that David understood the root of all a guitar can be. The focus of all your emotions, both high and low,
ecstasy and grief, love and hate it’s all in there. He had voiced them all through songs that he’d written on that one guitar, given to him in love by his wife, the music he’d written on it in no way diminished by the fact that their relationship was at it’s end. Just another set of feelings to be expressed in the wood and the strings. Just another part of the song. The cacophony of the
guitar breaking every bit as valid an expression as a soothing melody. In fact the emotional circle circumscribed by that one instrument meant a lot to him. David intrinsically understood
the connection, between the heart, the strings and the fingers. He knew that guitar had more to give, more to add. The song wasn’t over and it had to be carried on. So I rebuilt it for him and
while doing so he insisted that I inlay SGW on the headstock because now it was no longer just a Gibson. Our shop had added something to the voice, the story, the music that would
continue to come out of it.
You were beautiful and unique David. The world was truly a better place because you were in it.You never hid who you were from the world and your songs, your caring, and your
understanding and love of life touched all those that knew you. As I write this I can still see and hear him playing that J-45. I can still here that captivating beautiful clear voice tinged with just
a bit of cigarette rasp saying “Oh won’t you carry it from here? I’ll go on from here. I’ll go on from here”. Goodby my friend. We love you and we’ll miss you.
View David Ashley Rowan's obituary, send flowers, find service dates, and sign the guestbook.
