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There is a national project out there known as StoryCorps. The basic premise is that people are encouraged to have a conversation with one of their friends or family members about that person’s life, have the story recorded, and then store the recording in the Library of Congress. The aim of this project is to “remind one another of our shared humanity, strengthen and build the connections between people, teach the value of listening,and weave into the fabric of our culture the understanding that every life matters. At the same time, we will create an invaluable archive of American voices and wisdom for future generations.”
I think this is an admirable goal, as there are too many voices and stories that go unheard or are too easily forgotten.
To that end, I would like to create a miniature version of StoryCorps, aimed specifically at pipe smokers. While I do not currently have the resources to have these stories recorded in audio, the written word has always served us well, so we can start there.
Here’s the idea: In the comments section on this particular blog entry, share with us how you got started smoking a pipe.
Do your part and tell us a story. How did you get started?
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Back in the early 70s, when I was in my even earlier 20s, I was in Manchester one day with nothing much to do, and wandered in to an exhibition of Turkish products. One stand was displaying a selection of Meerschaum pipes and cigarette-holders, and on an impulse, I bought a pipe (Odd that, in those days, I had enough spare cash!). It was a largeish semi-bent, with grapes and vineleaves carved in the bowl, and a yellow stem (imitation-amber, I suppose, but rather crude compared with the faux-amber stems in modern Meers). I’d been vaguely thinking of taking up pipe-smoking anyway, and this was the actual start of it for me. I experimented with various tobaccos – no online ordering in those days, but on the other hand, there were still lots of specialist tobacconists around. I eventually settled on ‘Punchbowle’, a latakia mixture, and ‘Erinmore mixture’ as regulars. I eventually added a few more pipes to my stock, mainly briars including a standard Peterson system briar, plus a cherrywood. I gave up smoking of all kinds (I also smoked cigarettes) in about 1990, and all my pipes disappeared, including, sadly, that first Meer (which I’d long before managed to snap the stem of in half while trying to re-bend it: it had straightened out for some reason).
In Feb. 2011, I decided to take up pipe-smoking again, and now have a new collection of pipes – briars, meers, clays and corncobs – and ‘Punchbowle’ is again a favourite tobacco.
My journey began a year ago while on vacation in Florida. We were at a hotel, and I was enjoying an occasional cigar on the balcony. My wife was never a big fan of my cigars and they took too long to smoke, when I only had 30 minutes or so. A gentleman next to us would appear on his balcony and smoke a pipe for 15 minutes or so several times a day. My wife remarked, “I wish you smoked a pipe instead of those cigars”. I thought, why not and so it began. I haven’t smoke a cigar since. I typically tell folks who inquire about my pipes that while enjoyed, I never had a relationship with a cigar. Not so with my beloved and carefully acquired pipe collection. A special “thank you” to that anonymous pipe smoking gentleman I was never able to meet.
I received my first pipe as a gift at the ripe old age of 16. I was already a hardened and shameless cigarette smoker, and my parents, remembering my fascination as a child with pipes (no Freudian jokes) went to the Tinderbox and picked up a basket pipe. It worked. I fell in love with the briar, even didn’t mind the looks that a 16 year old received when smoking the thing.
In a way, it worked too well. Every birthday, graduation, Christmas, another basket pipe. Don’t get me wrong. I was grateful for the pipes, but a Mom, who would spend way beyond the norm for (say) a watch for a birthday, would seem to actively seek out the cheapest pipe in the Tinderbox as my gift for special occasions. For the world, she couldn’t
see spending money on a piece “of wood”.
One day, nearing my 18th birthday (legal smoking age, I figured it was now or never) I made a huge point of showing my Mom a Ben Wade that I loved, hoping that she would get the hint. Two days before my birthday, I went into the Tinderbox and saw, that not only was the Wade still there, but the ugliest pipe in the world that my Mom had been looking at
had been purchased (s#*t!). Flash to my 18th birthday. Cake lit, and blown out, my Mom presented me with (gasp, surprise, surprise) a wrapped gift, in the shape of a pipe
box. I did my best to screw on my “Oh, my, it’s beautiful” face, and opened it. It was a Dunhill group #4 Shell Panel.
Turns out that my father picked out the pipe (knowing nothing about pipes, but going on the TB Manager’s. recommendation), wanting me to have something special for the birthday of my majority. The look on his face communicated pride, and a certain warning, not to let on to my Mom what the pipe was worth, or we’d both be dead . That moment will be forever held within my heart. I have that pipe still, and treasure it above all others.
Best,
Bear
Most guys smoked pipes when I was growing up and I loved the smell in buses and tram’s; at college and then in the professional office again nearly all were pipe smokers and they set me on the right lines. One big difference in the ’50′s and ’60′s was the desire of young men to emulate their elders – college scarves, bow ties, hats and pipes etc. – whereas the tendency today seems to look as little as possible like the preceding generation.
Well, I was a cigarette smoker since high school. I followed the Keith Richards view of things. Still do, somewhat. Bottom feeders stick together. Anyways, sometime in the mid 80s, I was in a tobacco shop in San Francisco. This’d be around 1982. And rather than buying my regular pack of smokes, I noticed a small pipe display. I remember a cheap assortment of pipes mounted on cardboard, near some Captain Black (White). I picked up one of each, and thus began to smoke a pipe. My health – physical, emotional and spiritual – improved significantly, which I attribute soley to the pipe. I went for many years smoking either Capt. Black or Prince Albert. Bought my first Dunhill used shortly thereafter. But I stll smoked the same two blends all the way till I went on line, some 10 yrs. ago, and expanded my horizons. In those days I only owned two or three pipes. Smoked em back to back. None of my friends smoked a pipe, although all were cigarette smokers. I was in the restaurant business back then and going to school. When I started I had no books, no pipe club, wasn’t aware of the nobel history, etc. Pretty much no guidance. Figured out what worked, what didn’t. School of hard knocks. Sort of glad I did it that way.
Wow, guys. What awesome stories.
Stephen — There is something about the siren call of meerschaum pipes that is tough to resist. I know I can’t!
Al — What a nice way to start! You get to make your wife happy and enjoy a wonderful hobby. Win-win, eh?
Bear — Bravo! What a story! I know that that pipe must be dear to you in ways that go beyond money, briar, and tobacco.
Jimbo — What a different time, huh? I wish I still saw a lot of people randomly smoking pipes. There are certainly people from the previous generation that I aim to emulate, more than I can name. only hope I can partly fill their shoes!
Eric — I cannot express how glad I am to have started smoking a pipe in the era of the internet. The amount of information out there is incredible and has helped me immensely. Going through the school of hard knocks must have taught you exactly what worked for you, though!
THE MAKING OF A PIPE MAN
I got my start as a ‘very’ young kid–my grandpa and his cronies, nearly to a man, smoked pipes–i have been associated with pipes and pipe men for almost as long as i can remember–
sitting in the barber shop on saturday morning listening to the ‘old codgers’ swap lies while puffin’ at their pipes was like a magnet drawin’ a young kid to the magic of tobacco and briar–
when i turned ten (1954) my gramps passed away, and this youngster started making his own cob pipes, because he lived on a farm, and corn was the staple crop–they weren’t fancy, in fact they were pretty awful–i would sample (read that as steal if you must) some of Gramps’ remaining tobacco–i knew he wouldn’t mind–he’d never smoke it again in this life–the way i had it figured; he left it for me and would want me to have it–
he had a couple pounds of Prince Albert left after he passed away–that leaf was put to good use, and grammaw never checked his tobacco stash (or at least i never “knew about” her checkin’ it anyway)–i had plenty of partners in crime; many of my grade school buddies were doing the same as i–((a bunch of us got caught with our cobs at school one day; but that is an entirely different story))
at age 14 i bought my first briar, a Willard, as a premium attached to two pouches of Sir Walter Raleigh–i still have the stummel, but the stem is long since replaced–that pipe was just so-so, but i keep it for nostalgic reasons–
//a quick note here: at age 14 i was just a shade under six feet tall and weighed about 175 to 180 pounds, so i wasn’t challenged often when purchasing tobacco, even though they knew i was under age–life was diffent in 1958//
i worked in a grain store as a youngster, where many of the older guys smoked pipes–they knew i was learning to be a pipe man, and they would offer me a bowl from their pouches–it was an experience–they weren’t being cruel, they were just checkin’ “the kid” to see how serious he was about smoking a pipe–
their tobacco varied some, but usually only one or two burley blends were used as a base in their mix:
an OTC burley was the base, with a ‘twist’ or ‘rope’ (mickey twist in my area) cut into coins, rubbed out and added to said burley base–some of those guys dried their chewing tobacco, both leaf and plug, and added that to their ‘blend?’–many of these old guys grew their own leaf (i have absolutely no idea what variety, but if i were forced, i would guess it was burley) and this home grown product was added to their Mixture—when i was first offered this brew i accepted, but i knew it would be a severe test, and that was exactly what it was meant to be—talk about ruining a perfectly good day for a 15 or 16 year old kid–BUT; after finishing the bowl i was seemingly accepted into their fraternity–
i still prefer to imbibe just one or maybe three favorite blends rather than have a huge tobacco rotation, and i also tend to smoke a few pipes rather than keeping a large number of pipes going–my Grabows and Kaywoodies form the core of my modest assembly of pipes–((altho i must admit a heresy; my best pipe is Pete B5 bulldog))
i am now one of those old codgers, sitting on the porch, puffin’ my pipe in the manner of the old school, just keepin’ memories alive–
but these days, more the pity, you just ‘CAN’T’ smoke in the barber shop on saturday or any other day of the week!!–May GOD have pity on those who would meddle in the lives of their fellow men–
So, in September of 2010 i began to attend my College. I had smoked a half-dozen cigars in the six months that i had been of age, but wasn’t a “smoker” by any means. Well, my room-mates went batshit insane and all three of them tried to kill each other, (one with a knife, one with a gun…its a long story). So, here i am, as this quiet christian kid who hasn’t had any craziness in his life who suddenly needs a break from everything. Enter Jordon, my best friend. One night as i was sitting alone and smoking a cigar, he joined me with his pipe even though he had only met me once. We talked for a few hours, and i got a lot of crap talked out with him. He invited me to the tobacco store with him a few weeks later and, what do you know, i’m a pipe smoker. Now we have a pipe club with 30 members, and me and him smoke two or three times a week. I have six or seven beautiful pipes now, and gave away my first one to a friend in need of some stress relief.
Cheers,
Jake
Great string of stories!
In the late 70′s I was always on the road and one of my best accounts was outside Lexington, KY. I always stayed at the Hyatt. This is where Rupp Arena is and where KY plays basketball.
Attached to the two was a mall where I would stroll and always visit two of the equine art shops within, I’ve collected fox hunting art and memorabilia for close to forty years.
Close to one of the shops I would visit was a Tinderbox and I would always go in, look around, enjoy the fragrance of the tobaccos, but not buy.
On one particular trip I had finished a book and wanted something else to read. I went downstairs to the shops and was drawn to the Tinderbox. I purchased my first pipe, a Comoy, tobacco and “The Pipe Book”. I was instantly hooked!
When I got back to Nashville I went to Mr. Ed’s pipe shop and Mr. Ed taught me about new and estate Dunhill pipes. In short order I was trading with Edsel “Mr. Dunhill” James and learning all I could.
It’s been a great journey and one that helped me find a craft that has given me more fun than I could have ever imagined. I love buying, selling, trading estate pipes and crafting pieces with my ten thumbs. Every minute spent in the shop brings more joy than could have been imagined.
The only thing lacking is………….a flat screen TV in the shop! It’ll be there after Chicago!!!
1998, my freshman year of college. I visited Lawrence, KS and took a short stint over to Kansas City. A friend of mind suggested we find a cigar shop so that he could get a cigar, so we stopped off at a little shop that would eventually become my home away from home, Cigar and Tabac in Overland Park, KS. The owner talked to me a bit as my buddy was shopping the cigars and asked if I smoked. At that point I had tried a few cigars but nothing I liked. I was shown a Savinelli rusticated pipe and told that it would be a fantastic smoker. He told me that he would give me the pipe for half off and throw in two free tins of tobacco if I’d like to try it out. I love a good deal, and I figured $30.00 was a pretty good deal. So I bought a tin of Dunhill Standard Mixture Medium, a bag of house virginia (pretty sure it was 5100), and a little bent Savinelli. He showed me how to dry the tobacco, pack a bowl and light it. After a few trys I got the hang of it and a love affair was born. Since then pipes have come and gone, I’ve had some financial hardships where I had to sell almost everything I owned, and many changes have happened in my life. But that little pipe has always been there, and still has a place in my rotation to this day. Every smoke with it is just as sweet as the first time I ever smoked it. It’s a reminder of all the tough times in my life, but also has some fantastic memories of life, friends, and the places I’ve been.
My earliest memories of my grandfather are of him sitting in his big armchair with a pipe and the New York Times. I loved the aroma and was fascinated with the entire process of lighting, tamping etc. I also loved that Zippo pipe lighter!
Fast forward to Annapolis in the mid Seventies. I had a friend who embodied the archetype of the drunken Irish poet. He was never without a pipe and I have a semi-clear memory of him sitting in a cardboard box in the middle of one the quaint side streets in Annapolis with a broom in hand and a pipe in mouth valiantly trying to row said box across the street while singing sea chanties at the top of his lungs at 2 AM.
It is a distillation (yes, that’s the word alright) of these two images that lead me to pick up my first briar there in Annapolis. It was a simple, sturdy wall pipe, but I knew then that the game was afoot!
When I was 15 years of age a good frined of mine was obssessed with Mark Twain’s Huckleberry Finn. He wanted to build a raft and float it down the Mississippi. We settled instead on making corn cob pipes from scratch. They turned out pretty decent. Frequented the local drug store and tried all types of OTC tobacco blends. This was around 1967 so there was plenty of pipe tobacco around.
Graduated to real corn cob pipes and eventually to real briar albeit drug store pipes. Eventually found a local tobacconist, “Fred Diebel’s” where the real stuff was. I ended up working for them in high school taking the mail to the post office and sweeping up. I stayed all the way through college and for several years after I graduated. Worked the tobacco factory and worked as a store manager and repairing pipes while I was there. The person who actually hired me was Carl Ehwa who went on to start “McClelland Tobacco”. Carl and I were good friends. I also worked with Mike McNiel who is the current owner of McClelland. Mike & I still stay in touch.
I started smoking pipes in my second year at university. I was living in residence and one of my roommates smoked a pipe. I’ve always loved the smell of pipe tobacco and he was good enough to lend me a medico bulldog to try. Smoking a pipe gave me a good excuse to be distracted from the books for a while and being distracted was something I appreciated. A week later I bought my own basket pipe and pouch of house blend Black Cherry at a close by Sheffield and Sons tobacconist. I remember throughout university keeping all the various different goopy, aromatic tobaccos together in one tupperware container until they all tasted roughly the same.
A few years back I actually tracked down another Sheffield and Sons to see if I could get another pouch of Black Cherry. Sadly they had it in stock. It was one of those instances where the memories were much better than the reality.