In a modest home in Newnan, Georgia, there was an old wooden closet that no one paid much attention to. Inside it wasn’t clothes or tools—but an acoustic guitar, worn out but full of dreams. It was where Alan Jackson hid his first guitar. But why hide it?
Back then, Alan never imagined he could become a singer. He worked as a car mechanic, fixing engines by day, dreaming melodies by night. In a traditional Southern town, chasing music was seen as foolish—especially for a married man with responsibilities. Alan only played late at night, when everyone was asleep, or when his wife Denise was working the night shift.
The guitar wasn’t fancy. He bought it from a pawn shop and patched it up with tape. But it was his first companion, quietly witnessing every song he wrote—songs never released, songs written just to release what was inside.
One of those songs, “Look at Me Again,” was written just for Denise. It was never made public. But it was that very song that convinced her Alan had something the world needed to hear. She was the one who sent his demo to Nashville—starting his journey from mechanic to legend.
That guitar still rests in that old closet—silent proof of five quiet years before Alan Jackson became a household name.