Unusual Pipe Tales
Topaz75
Professor
in The Lounge
Sometime in the early 1970s, I purchased my first brand new Peterson. It was by far the most expensive pipe I had ever owned. As I recall, it cost about $50 at the time.
I had only owned it for a few days and had smoked it but a few times. I had it with me on the road, and somehow the pipe managed to fall out of my car when I was either opening or closing the door. Of course, it then proceeded to roll under the car. I'll never forget the sound it made as I drove over it with a white Triumph TR3.
I was not particularly amused at the time, but looking back on it I guess it was rather funny. Kind of reminds me of the old Spike Jones tune in which he runs an expensive violin through a garbage disposal.
I had only owned it for a few days and had smoked it but a few times. I had it with me on the road, and somehow the pipe managed to fall out of my car when I was either opening or closing the door. Of course, it then proceeded to roll under the car. I'll never forget the sound it made as I drove over it with a white Triumph TR3.
I was not particularly amused at the time, but looking back on it I guess it was rather funny. Kind of reminds me of the old Spike Jones tune in which he runs an expensive violin through a garbage disposal.
Comments
About the third day we had her, I guess she decided to demonstrate just how smart she was. I had been smoking my pipe in the living room, and after finishing the bowl I emptied the pipe and left it in an ashtray. A few minutes later, as I was sitting at a computer in another room, Shelby showed up and dropped the pipe at my feet. She had taken it out of the ashtray and brought it to me.
My wife was quite impressed with how clever the dog was in doing this. Never missing an opportunity to be the contrarian, I wryly commented that the dog had neglected to bring me any tobacco.
My mother quickly rose to the challenge by carefully knitting a sweater for my pipe. The result can be seen in the photo above. She eventually made two or three more of these in different colors, presumably so that I could change the pipe’s attire to better match whatever I happened to be wearing at the time.
Of course, it could've been the Riesling.
https://rebornpipes.com/category/father-tom-stories/
Amongst The Ashes
Monday, October 9, 2017 by Rachel DuBose
No one knows how the story started, or even the whole story. What we do know is this: Out on the edge of the property my parents owned when I was growing up, there was a one-room schoolhouse, built sometime in the late 1800s. Built more like a church, its pews were bolted to the floor, slates set out neatly along each one. And in the house, we all swore, was the ghost of an old woman — thin and cruel, a clay pipe between her lips and a ruler tucked into her belt, ready to punish unruly students at a moment's notice. Occasionally, over the years, we would hear the massive brass bell, hung near the door, ringing wildly in the middle of the night. "It's the wind," my parents said, not ones for superstition, even as the coyotes that roamed our hundred acres of woodland raised their voices to join the bell's song.
For a dozen years, I grew up in sight of the schoolhouse and its ever-watching matron. When graduation day came, we built a bonfire on my parents' property, far from the dry wood of the old building, tucked into a clearing in the forest, the fire pit ringed with the biggest stones we could find, and a good dose of water to be safe. Summer had only just begun, but it was already dry, the grass crisp underfoot. In the midst of the laughter and music, all went silent suddenly, as the sound of the bell — and its friends, the coyotes — cut through the night. "Don't wander off, the coyotes won't come near the fire," I told my friends.
It didn't take long to notice the glow on the other side of the trees, however, or the way the roar of the fire stopped being pleasant, and started being deafening. We raced through the forest toward the schoolhouse — in our tiny farming town, there was no fire department to call, and we were on our own. We broke through the treeline in time to see the first wall of the schoolhouse fall, wrapped in flames and threatening the dry grass around it.
And on the building's small porch was the gaunt spectre of the school's matron — pipe clenched between her teeth, a brutal determination in her face — ringing the bell with all of her strength. And at the other edge of the clearing, a pack of wild coyotes, watching the fire and raising the alarm. Once, twice, the bell rang — and then she flickered, like a pop of static, and disappeared. With a whine, the coyotes slunk away, as if they knew something that we didn't.
We kept the fire from spreading to the trees, but there was no saving the historic schoolhouse. It smoldered for days, until it was finally safe to investigate. Amongst the ashes, the only thing that remained was the bell, its rope burned away and brass scorched.
My parents never believed us about the ghost, and hung the bell at their back door. And even now, with her schoolhouse gone, sometimes it rings in the middle of the night, as the smell of pipe smoke wafts in the air — and the coyotes join it, hovering just at the edge of the trees.
Monday, October 16, 2017 by Chuck Stanion
Not really a pipe story, well it is kind of a pipe. You be the judge
http://archaeologylive.org/uncategorized/a-clay-pipes-tale/
http://hunterdonlandtrust.org/looking-back-the-rediscovery-of-the-tuccamirgan-johan-philip-case-pipe/
Tales of Gluskabe: The King of The Ghosts
The Pipe Show Murder -- https://pipedia.org/docs/Leoplado_PipeShowMurder.pdf
Briarroot writes this heartwarming tale -- <<I remember a year or two ago at the Columbus pipe show. I had a little table with some pipes set out on it to sell or trade or whatnot. This little old lady comes strolling by with a box of a dozen or so pipes. She says they were her husband's, who passed on a few years back, and she was just trying to raise some money as things were tight that month. I doubt I was the first table she visited, as I was in the middle of the room. Well, she seemed really sweet, and a bit distraught, so I took a look at the pipes. They were all beat up low grades. Many cracked bowls and and bit through stems. Well, I really just couldn't bring myselt to turn her away, so I told her I'd give her $50 for the whole box. She just seemed to sag with relief. I'd sold a few pipes, so I had the cash, and hell, you can't take it with you. It just seemed like the right thing to do. I gave her the money and she tottered off. Judd...damn if i can remember his name. But Judd from eBay fame, was at the next table. He said, "That's a good thing you just did there." "Yep," I replied. He looked through the box and said he'd give me $10 bucks for the lot. I picked out two pipes to remember the occasion by and let him have them.>>
<<About 10 or 12 years ago, I was attending a small get-together in my neighbor's back yard (our back yards adjoined one another). We were most of us pipe & cigar smokers so I felt comfortable smoking one of my nameless billiards while holding a mug of iced tea. I was leaning against the back fence talking with one of the female guests when I noticed her attention wavering. Suddenly, a furry paw came out of nowhere and swatted my right ear! I opened my mouth to yelp in surprise and down dropped my pipe straight into the mug of iced tea - plop, sizzle! It seems that, Jack, my 15-lb tomcat, had been sneaking up on me for some minutes by walking along the top of the fence separating our properties. Alicia, the lady I had been speaking with, howled with laughter along with the other guests as I ruefully retrieved my sodden pipe and attempted to scold Jack who just sat there looking smug (the varmint!). I wish someone had taken a snapshot of that moment! He was a character, that cat.>>
CATEGORY ARCHIVES: FATHER TOM STORIES
https://rebornpipes.com/category/father-tom-stories/