Henry Smith, one of our road managers, was gathering up our equipment at the Winnipeg airport. We had just flown into the Canadian city during our fifth North American tour, which was launched in March 1970. But as Henry surveyed the equipment, he noticed that one of the guitars was missing. “Shit,” he said to himself. “It’s one of Jimmy’s. He’s not going to be happy.” The band and I were already in our hotel when Henry called me to report the missing guitar. “It’s the old black one,” Henry said. “The Les Paul that Keith Richard gave him.” I knew Jimmy wouldn’t be happy. I walked down to his room to tell him what had happened. As soon as he heard the news, he snapped. “Lost a guitar!” he shouted. “How in the hell can they lose a guitar?!” He kicked at a nearby sofa. “Richard, this is ridiculous! Do you know how much I love that guitar?” I couldn’t recall ever seeing Jimmy quite this angry. I decided just to let him talk. “How could somebody just walk off with it?”
