My wife invited a couple she met at her church to our home the other night. I say “her” church because it’s not mine. Even though I accompany her occasionally, and for a few years attended often, my own belief system differs significantly from hers. She thinks I’m a barbarian dirtbag, I think she’s a deluded sentimentalist, and we get along marvelously.

I get along with our church acquaintances, too, even though I’m unapologetically candid with my opinions when asked. That sometimes leads to horrified reactions, which I find satisfying. Her church doesn’t tolerate tobacco use by members, so I sometimes ask for the smoking section when ushers offer to seat us—which may explain why my wife doesn’t seem terribly disappointed when I elect not to attend. I’d go more often if folks at the church were like the guys on Christianpipesmokers.net—those guys rock.

So when this couple showed up for dinner, I didn’t know what to expect—sometimes people are engaging conversationalists, sometimes they’re capable only of worn platitudes; sometimes they’re tolerant of my opinions, sometimes they run screaming from the house. However they react, I’m entertained.

The women sat on the couch talking about whatever it is women talk about, while the husband—we’ll call him Walt—and I sat facing each other across the coffee table. We volleyed politics back and forth, then the DMV and cable TV companies, all of which we agreed are fundamentally Satanic in character.

When he asked if I was a member of the church, I answered, “Gosh, no.”

“Do you go at all?” he asked.

“Sure, about once a month. To hang out with the wife.”

“I go every week,” he said. “I found it makes things …”—he glanced at his wife and lowered his voice—“… easier.”

When Walt asked what I do for a living, I braced myself. Sometimes people are interested, but most church people quickly change the subject. Occasionally, they’re appalled at my moral turpitude. One once called me a child killer and insisted on leaving immediately.

Walt warmed up when he heard about P&T magazine. “I used to smoke cigars and pipes,” he said. “I still have a sultan meerschaum—haven’t smoked in years, though.” He glanced at his wife again.

At dinner I insisted on saying grace, which scared my wife. She gave me a look that I easily recognized as meaning, “Be careful or you’ll be sleeping in the garage.” I acknowledged the universe at large for the remarkable physical laws that permit carbon-based life forms to find happiness in an environment such as our tiny planet provides. One corner of Walt’s mouth rose in a smile, his wife opened one eye in frank confusion, and my wife telepathically informed me of my new sleeping arrangements. After dinner the women adjourned upstairs to my wife’s craft room to tinker with a broken sewing machine.

I suggested to Walt that we step out on the deck for a smoke. “I have some well-aged cigars,” I said.

“Gosh, I don’t know,” he said, glancing at the staircase.

“They’ll be up there for quite a while,” I said. “That sewing machine is toast.”

So Walt enjoyed a cigar and I had a pipe. We talked and joked and were back inside when the women came downstairs.

Walt’s wife was puzzled. “You smell a little like cigars,” she said.

“Walt was kind enough to join me on the deck,” I said, “while I had a smoke.”

“Oh, my,” she said. “You smoke? Well, we should be going.”

The wives stood on the front stoop talking while Walt and I shook hands in the foyer.

“Would you like some cigars and pipe tobacco to take with you?” I asked.

He glanced again through the door at his wife. “I better not,” he said. “But do you have a copy of that pipe magazine you can spare?”

After they left, I said, “That visit made me appreciate how lucky I am. You’re an awfully good, awfully patient wife.”

“OK,” she said. “Maybe you won’t have to sleep in the garage.”

Pipe by J.T. Cooke Photo by Chuck Stanion

Villiger International’s lineup of bulk Newminster tobaccos reflects influences from classic Stokkebye mixtures (a company Villiger acquired), and deft blending and tobacco sourcing from Mac Baren. While some of these tobaccos are reprises of classic Stokkebye blends, there are some intriguing differences. One of these is the use of African and South American Virginia in a number of the blends. When employed properly, they can lend significant sweetness and depth. Although equatorially grown Virginia is still Virginia leaf, its tropical characteristics make it markedly different from leaf grown in the Eastern United States. As a leading maker of dry cured cigars, Villiger has been sourcing tobacco from these areas for a long time. And if you associate Danish blends with a lot of topping, prepare to be surprised.

No. 403 Superior Round Slices
Gage: Having something of a fetish for and fascination with spun-cut round slices (Three Nuns, Escudo, etc.), this was the Newminster tobacco that first attracted me to the lineup. There are only a few machines worldwide that can spin tobacco into long ropes and slice those ropes into disks. I also like disks for the fact they offer a number of smoking options, from leaving whole or as very lightly broken disks to bring out more distinct characteristics of the components, or more assertively broken to create an evenly distributed blend.

These mottled disks, with an “eye” of dark fired Kentucky leaf (a Burley-like but different species that’s aged, pressed and heat-cured) surrounded by well-aged flue-cured and red Virginia leaf, are worthy of framing. The pouch aroma was slightly honeyed, but mostly had a rich smell of Virginia. Villiger says this is lightly aromatic, but if it is, it is an extremely light topcoat. Good thing, too, because the tobaccos are too tasty to cover up.

I’ll offer two alternative scenarios that yielded different results. The first was to smoke the disks moist and intact, with a few shreds to help maintain combustion. The moisture content was acceptable, but they could be dried for a day with no harm. This treatment delivered prominent Virginia sweetness, highlighting some well-aged leaf. There were cinnamon and light honey flavors (natural, not derived from casing), intermingled with an earthy, peppery hit from the dark fired. To get the most out of the leaf, I’d recommend smoking the disks whole rather than aggressively broken. It was enjoyable from start to finish, although the sugary, flue-cured bright Virginias were a bit sharp at times, warning me to let the mixture rest before relighting.

The second method, which I learned from smoking vintage Three Nuns that had dried out, was to leave the tobacco in an open container and allow it to complete dry down (and it quickly does). Leaving the fragile disks as whole as possible, I packed my pipe lightly and fired up. Immediately, I noted a far more pronounced black pepper taste from the Kentucky. The Virginia sweetness was definitely there, but I enjoyed the slightly grilled beefsteak, almost cigarlike prominence of the dark fired leaf. The dry tobacco required slow puffing, but if carefully managed, it was smooth with no tongue bite. I am not a proponent of smoking super-dry tobaccos, but it worked in this case. Less aggressive drying enables you to strike a middle ground.

This spun cut may incorporate the same leaf that’s in Mac Baren’s HH Old Dark Fired, one of Mac Baren’s best. But wrapping up the dark fired leaf with some mellow and bright Virginia is genius. If you miss Orlik’s discontinued Dark Strong Kentucky, this is a fine replacement. I imagine this will only mellow with age. If you’re into cellaring, I’d recommend getting some glass canning jars, packing the disks in them, covering (no vacuum sealing needed) and letting the tobacco age for a couple years. I’m betting this will be luxurious and still nicely moist.

Harb: This blend features very thin disks of Virginia tobacco leaf wrapped around a core of dark fired Kentucky tobacco. I prefer to cut the disks into quarters and then lightly rub the segments out so that I have shorter strands of tobacco. This makes packing easier and helps distribute the different components more evenly. It also helps keep the ribbons from burning too fast. Once through the charring light, the Virginia delivered a light flavor that was tangy and lightly sweet, and this was matched with a bold darker note and a moderate level of body from the Kentucky leaf. Superior Round Slices was easy to light and to keep lit, which are good qualities for a beginner. The overall light flavor profile is a nice change of pace if you just want a pleasant, smooth-burning blend.        

No. 1 All Natural
Gage: A nice, shaggy, broken flake cut distinguishes this mixture from many run-of-the-mill generic light Cavendish blends you’ll find. Ribbons of brown and gold Virginias alternate with generous strips of variegated light and dark leaf cut from pressed cakes, giving this a great deal of visual interest. The pouch aroma is mostly Virginia with a light flowery scent. The mixture is presented as not having any aromatic flavorings, and I couldn’t detect any obvious topping in my tastings.

The mix of cuts makes this a snap to pack and light, although it performs even better with a day or two of drying. It dries out quickly, underscoring a lack of aromatic saucing that would keep it artificially moist for a prolonged period. As light Cavendish mixtures go, this was a refreshing combination of nicely aged U.S. Virginias and Brazilian Virginia leaf, giving it more interest and complexity than most light Cavendish blends. Finding a middle ground between aromatic and English character, it’s a simple, satisfying cross-over smoke for English smokers looking for something with appealing Virginia sweetness and aromatic smokers seeking the same thing but without topping. It left no ghosting in the pipe. It can burn a trifle hot, so slow smoking is a benefit. It might age well, and offers interesting potential for blending experiments.

Harb: All Natural is described as a straight-cut Cavendish blend of mild flue-cured Virginias. The aroma is light and slightly sweet. The cut is broken flakes mixed in with long, thin ribbons. Once stoked to embers, the blend was very smooth, and the flavor was light to moderate, with a nice sweetness. As I progressed down the bowl, I picked up occasional deeper notes. The blend was slightly moist, and the first tasting I tried with no drying had a tendency to overheat. I allowed the blend to dry a bit with subsequent bowls, and they were smooth and cool, particularly with a slow puffing rhythm. I liked the blend best when I gave it just enough air to keep the burn above a smolder. Pipe smokers who like the lighter Virginia blends should enjoy this one.

No. 52 Ultimate English
Gage: If you like the aroma of a classic Balkan blend like Presbyterian Mixture or Dunhill Early Morning Pipe, buy a big bag of Ultimate English and use it for aromatherapy. Ultimate is an attractive, fine-cut mixture with a fairly even mix of Cyprian Latakia, Viriginias and Oriental leaf (they say Turkish, I say Greek Basma). Every single charring light delivered an off-putting punch of sinus-tweaking smoke. This dissipated immediately and never returned, but I found a couple of quick charring puffs and getting myself out of the way was the best way to mitigate this rough start.

On the second light, the mixture settled in nicely, delivering an excellent balance of Latakia smokiness, pungency from the Oriental leaf and a bit of sweetness from the Virginia leaf. I try to resist comparisons, but I thought this was every bit as good as Presbyterian or Early Morning Pipe, but with a bulk price point. I continue to be at a loss to accurately describe good Oriental leaf, but it has a sweet/notsweet sugar content and a slight fresh and wholesome barnyard character like a well-aged red wine or creamy, noble, “stinky” cheese. I also liked the easy-smoking fine ribbon cut of this mixture. It made for easy lighting and cool burning.

This is a winner straight from the bag, showing off lots of character and good age behind the leaf. I don’t think it will gain additional character or interest with aging, but it certainly won’t hurt to jar it up and keep it around for a few years to dip into. This one competes with some of the best non-cased, Oriental-forward Balkan blends you’re going to find these days.

Harb: Described as the blend with the most Latakia in the series, this blend also has a variety of Oriental tobaccos and subtle Virginias. The aromas that waft up are the smokiness of the Latakia, the spices of the Orientals and the sweetness of the Virginias. Once in the pipe and burning, however, it is the Orientals that lead the flavor, with the Latakia adding pungency to the smoke and the Virginias contributing a delicate sweetness to the flavor profile. This is a well-rounded blend that is rich and smooth, with a nice complexity. By mid-bowl, the Latakia blossomed and became more dominant without obscuring the Oriental characters. People who like the more heavy Latakia English blends may enjoy Ultimate English as a lighter blend that also gives them a good complement of Latakia while remaining complex.

No. 306 English Orient
Gage: This blend confused me. There’s a lot going on here, with African Virginias, Cyprian Latakia, Mexican Burley and Turkish Samsun. All fine and good until they added the black Cavendish, which I like, but its sweet/smoky flavor clashed with the pungent Turkish leaf. It lights and burns clean and dry. If you like aromatic English-style blends, this could be your cup of tea. It seemed indecisive to my palate.

Harb: The smoky, pungent aroma of Latakia is prominent in the pouch, with spicy herbal aromas of Oriental varietals underneath. At the start, however, it is the Oriental varietals that contribute spice and stoutness to the flavor, and the Latakia adds depth and complexity to the smoke. English Orient is very smooth and the tobaccos used are well-balanced. By mid-bowl, the Latakia contributed more pungency to the flavor, but still remained just under the Orientals. The blend was dry in the pouch, and smoked dry and evenly throughout the bowl, leaving a nice, soft, gray ash. For some pipe smokers, this may be a crossover blend between the Oriental blends and the English blends that feature a stronger Latakia component. Definitely a must-try for those who like a rich and smooth blend with prominent flavors.

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by Fred Bass

For as long as I’ve known that meerschaum pipes color, I’ve listened to discussions about how these pipes are finished. The finishing of carved block in a bath of beeswax, tallow, spermaceti, organic oils and just about anything that someone has said, read or had a revelation about, has always held my attention. I’m not alone in the quest for knowledge about this topic, so this essay should be welcomed by those who have wondered about what has historically been considered proprietary. Because most of us will likely never see a meerschaum pipe that has not been finished, my research has technically been about re-waxing meerschaum pipes. This is a minor distinction, because the waxing process for both new and used meerschaums is essentially the same. Waxing a block meerschaum provides protection for the pipe’s surface and promotes the development and display the of patina, or coloration, for which these pipes are so highly prized. Legends abound in the meerschaum community, and some of my personal favorites involve tales of the secrets past masters took to the grave. Other disclosures of wisdom include using steam to produce even coloration in a pipe with a spotty display of color, setting a meerschaum in whole milk overnight to return it to the pristine white color of a new pipe, or cleaning a meerschaum by fire, like what is done to clean a clay pipe. None of these suggestions are advisable. The steam will bleach the color from the pipe, and I’m not sure what anyone would do with a meerschaum that is saturated in milk fat. Fire will discolor a meerschaum to brown or black, which might be the objective in a specialty finish, but not the result sought for cleaning a pipe. Not everything that you read or hear is correct, and this is the case with information on waxing meerschaums.

There’s no shortage of artisans today who are working with a propriety process or technique of wax application for meerschaums. Claims of extraordinary results about how well these finished pipes color and smoke abound. Not surprisingly, this same talk has been going on for decades with the same level of clarity of revelation as the pronouncements of the Oracle at Delphi. It is an interesting study that can take one into the past, seeking knowledge in translations of ancient manuscripts, up to the present, where the sharing of information in the Turkish meerschaum community is extremely limited. My primary focus in this essay will be on simple methods that use inexpensive materials available today. Because there are more ways to wax a meerschaum, and not everyone will choose immersion, this discussion also includes alternatives, so that informed choices are available. It is advisable to exercise due caution if you choose to employ anything you read in this essay. Working with flammable liquids and volatiles is inherently dangerous. I mention this because I have no desire to provide information that can lead to disastrous consequences if due diligence and caution are ignored.

The higher the melting point of what the carver uses to finish the pipe, the longer it will remain on the pipe’s surface. Carnauba wax has a higher melting temperature (180 to 190 degrees F) than beeswax and puts a great layer on the pipe, but it colors very unevenly. Montan wax, a fossilized plant wax with multiple applications, has an even higher melting temperature (190 to 200 degrees F) with a great look and color, but it smells awful. Since spermaceti cannot be legally obtained anymore, some have found jojoba oil, an additive used in many cosmetic products (melting temperature around 50 degrees F) to be a suitable substitute that can be rubbed on the pipe. I haven’t tried using jojoba oil as yet, so I cannot speak to this from personal experience. There are some accounts of using spermaceti and jojoba oil without beeswax, with mixed results. This leaves us with using white beeswax, because it does well in coating a meerschaum pipe and doesn’t have an objectionable odor. Beeswax has been used to finish meerschaum pipes for a long time; still, it’s a good idea to know something about it before trying to use it. White beeswax has a high melting point range of 144 to 147 degrees F. If beeswax is heated above 185 degrees F, discoloration occurs, which may help explain how some carvers apply dark luster wax finishes without the use of a pigment, as well as how a fire-cured finish might be accomplished, coupled with the use of dark beeswax. The flash point of beeswax is 399.9 degrees F. It is flammable when melted into a liquid state and can quickly ignite when boiled, so care is advisable when melting it for use; the temperature should be kept around 160 degrees F. I prefer to use a cosmetic grade of white beeswax that has been refined without the use of chemicals or a bleaching agent. It can be ordered online from a variety of apothecary sellers and beekeepers. Lower grades of beeswax from yellow to brown can be used, but white beeswax provides a clear finish that allows for the best display of the meerschaum block characteristics. Using additives or less-refined beeswax will lower the melting point of the wax, making it easier for it to dissipate during smoking.

You will need a metal pot that’s large enough to hold the pound or two of melted wax to allow complete submersion of your meerschaum pipe; a heat source, preferably without an open flame; a thermometer; and a good supply of old newspapers and white cotton rags. The newspapers should be spread around the base of the melting pot, unless you enjoy cleaning spattered wax off everything within a six-foot radius. The white cotton rags are for buffing the wax finish.

If this will be your first experience with liquid beeswax, I suggest that you use a meerschaum that has a smooth finish so you can learn more about how the wax is absorbed. You can use one with intricate carving, but you can wind up spending a good deal of time digging the excess wax out of the pipe’s detailed carving if too much beeswax is collected on the bowl. Next, you need to remove all of the fittings from the meerschaum pipe, which assumes this can be done without damage to the pipe. Using a meerschaum that has a bone screw anchored in the shank of the pipe isn’t a good idea if you don’t know how to get it out without damaging the pipe. Using cork to block off the bowl’s chamber and draft is recommended, as the taste of burning beeswax in the pipe’s chamber is not pleasant. It is a good idea to insert a bit of white cotton rag in the chamber in case any beeswax manages to get inside; it will collect the wax and can be easily removed. It is also advisable that when you cork off the draft in the shank, you make a handle from wood, like a tenon and handle plug, so that you can dip the pipe into and remove it from the wax. Prior to dipping the pipe in the wax, clean off any dust or grime from the surface using a clean, white cotton cloth and Everclear. It is advisable to avoid touching the bowl during this wax application. The pipe must be bone dry before putting it into liquid wax, in order to avoid the risk of cracking it with the rapid expansion of moisture into steam produced by the heat. It is important to pay attention to how the bowl takes the wax in order to avoid oversaturation of the meerschaum, resulting in filling the pipe’s chamber and draft with beeswax. When you see that the pipe isn’t taking any more wax, remove it from the wax immersion; there are no set times to leave the pipe in the wax bath. In recent dialogue with Michael Butera, he has this to say …

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by Stephen A. Ross

A quiet man, Kjeld Sørensen wears a loud hat. The red felt derby with a black band adorned with a white silhouette of a pipe is a badge of honor worn by members of Sørensen’s pipe club, Sydsjællands Pibelaug (which roughly translates to Pipe Club of Southern Zealand), whenever they compete at slow-smoking competitions in Denmark or abroad. Noticing how easy it was to recognize fellow pipe club members at competitions, the 61-year-old Sørensen reasoned that it would be the perfect accoutrement to wear at pipe shows so that visitors could easily find him. Furthermore, adopting the name Red Hat Pipes for his business was an easy way for pipe smokers to remember him. Sørensen’s marketing idea was simple, effective and inexpensive, which isn’t a surprise considering his previous vocation as an economist.

Attending university at Aarhus, on Denmark’s Jutland Peninsula, an 18-year-old Sørensen befriended a pipe smoker on campus. Intrigued by the pipe clenched in his friend’s teeth, Sørensen expressed an interest in trying pipe smoking himself. His friend was more than willing to teach Sørensen how to smoke a pipe, helping the young Dane avoid the common pitfalls most new pipe smokers experience and encouraging him to try different tobaccos. Sørensen had made a lifelong friend and adopted a lifelong hobby.

After graduation Sørensen entered the corporate world, tallying figures, creating budgets, forecasting profits and trading currencies. He spent 25 years as an economist, using some of his free time to travel with the pipe club to slow-smoking competitions and pipe shows around Europe. Working with spreadsheets and crunching numbers became more tedious the longer he did it. He yearned for an opportunity to express his creativity. Economics paid the bills, put a roof over his family’s heads and allowed him to live comfortably—it was just becoming unsatisfactory. In 2000, the company for which he worked significantly downsized, cutting approximately half of the workforce. Feeling uneasy about his future in the company and doubting that he wanted to continue in economics, Sørensen retired, choosing to spend his newfound free time playing more golf, spending more time tending the garden and trying his hand at pipemaking.

“Economics wasn’t fun anymore,” he simply states. “That was the time that I decided to try making my hobby my profession.”

Sørensen ordered a few predrilled bowls and carved them but was unhappy with the results. Then his younger brother, Sven, told him of an ad seeking a pipe repairman that he had seen in a local paper. His brother wrote down the number, gave it to Sørensen and encouraged him to call. Scrounging up some courage, Sørensen dialed the number. Tom Eltang answered. The two arranged a time for Sørensen to travel the short distance from his home in Roskilde to Copenhagen for an interview.

“I had never met him before,” Sørensen recalls. “We talked for seven hours. I showed him a few pipes that I had made already. While I was unhappy with those pipes, Tom saw some things that showed him that I might have some potential as a pipemaker. We also found out we could do something for each other. I could help him with economics and he could help me in pipemaking.”

Imagine being an amateur painter just starting out and being accepted to learn from a master such as Michelangelo, Jackson Pollack, Salvador Dalí or Andy Warhol. That was the type of opportunity Eltang gave Sørensen.

“I was very fortunate,” he explains. “For two years I went there several times a week. Tom taught me the steps and wouldn’t let me proceed to the next step before he was satisfied with my work on the previous steps. One task he had me do was carve 30 pipes with the same shape. He watched what I was doing and told me how I could be better. When you do the same thing time after time, it becomes easier. For him it was a way to teach me how to get the feeling in my hands. And he got some pipes made. Watching him helped me progress as well. I tried to emulate how he moved his hands while he was at the sanding disc. It’s like learning a golf swing—seeing it is one thing, but doing it is something else entirely. Tom taught me the discipline required of pipemaking. He taught me that good enough wasn’t good enough. I still make my mistakes, but Tom is a very good teacher.”

After two years of apprenticeship, Sørensen felt confident enough in his ability to offer his pipes to the public. While he occasionally travels to Copenhagen to use Eltang’s sandblasting equipment, Sørensen has dedicated a small portion of the two-car garage attached to his home as a pipemaking studio.

The workshop is meticulously organized and kept very clean. Blocks of briar are arranged in plastic tubs on shelves in one area of the work space. German Ebonite rods, bits of horn and bamboo are placed together in another section of the shop. Two work benches hold a lathe, belt sander, sanding disc and a plethora of hand files and sanding paper. A half-circle window above one of the benches lets in ample light and affords a view of Roskilde Fjord and the nearby Viking Ship Museum, home to five Viking ships that were deliberately sunk in the fjord around 1070 as a defensive measure to protect the Viking capital and were recovered from the fjord’s bottom in 1962 and put on display.

It’s a gray, rainy day in Roskilde, and it’s not hard to imagine a Viking long ship, sails billowing and oars up, beating down the fjord to return to Roskilde, which contains one of the oldest cathedrals in Scandinavia, the final resting place of many Danish monarchs.

The cleanliness and order of Sørensen’s workshop is shadowed by the way the mild-mannered man goes about pipemaking. Used to carefully scanning and double-checking figures in his previous career as an economist, Sørensen takes immense care and spends a lot of time crafting each of his pipes. He’s in no rush because his financial well-being doesn’t depend on the sale of his pipes. He estimates that he spends at least a full day to as much as two days working on each pipe, striving always to produce pipes with smooth finishes.

“I’m very keen at finding the wood that will allow me to make smooth pipes,” Sorensen explains. “I start slowly from the outside and judge the surfaces to predict how it will go to lessen the chance of having a flaw that will cause me to have to sandblast it. I can look at a block and see what parts of the wood are immediately unusable. Then I look at what’s left and consider what shape will fit into that remaining wood, and then I start to work very slowly from the outside in. There are certain rules you think of when it comes to flaws in the briar, but then briar doesn’t play by the rules. It always breaks them. The more beautiful the briar, the more flaws you’ve got to deal with, it seems.”

Read the rest of the story in Pipes and tobaccos magazine or the online digital edition.

by Chuck Stanion

Fifteen years ago there were only limited numbers of people who would buy pipes online. The prevalent opinion was, “I can’t buy a pipe until I hold it in my hand and see it for myself.” That was understandable. Every pipe is individual, every one different—different grain, size, texture, weight, balance. Photos can be misleading as to size and even proportion; descriptions can be subjective and a pipe’s personality impossible to determine except in person (and often not even then; some pipes don’t truly reveal themselves until after many smokes). But with consistency, reputation and the trust of its customers, a business can make it work. The best online vendors now provide as much information as possible to make purchasing something as personal as a pipe that much easier. By offering clients consistent information, measurements, detailed descriptions and photos from several angles, merchants have helped pipe smokers become more comfortable with the online buying experience. It’s reached a level where many people who had no previous need of a computer have become proficient with them for the express purpose of pursuing their pipe collecting more efficiently. Indeed, many pipes can be found only online and nowhere else.

Among the most successful and innovative of these modern pipe merchants is Smokingpipes.com, run by Sykes Wilford. The site is state-of-the-art. In many ways, Wilford is the Steve Jobs of the pipe world. Though not the gazillionaire (we presume) that Jobs became, Wilford possesses a similar genius for utilizing and repurposing existing technology to provide unique products for his particular customers. One of Wilford’s defining motivations is to constantly improve the Smokingpipes.com experience.

And it is an experience. For example, Smokingpipes.com now provides secure, detailed records for its customers, who can log in and see exactly what their purchasing history is, including specific dates, number of items and totals spent. Clicking on any particular order will reveal a detailed invoice with every item listed. Clients can check how many pipes they’ve purchased in any given year or across several years, what finish those pipes have, what countries of manufacture they represent and what tobacco brands they buy (all represented in colorful graphs and charts), and thereby help to understand their own trends. For example, they might note that 75 percent of the pipes they’ve bought in the past year have been Danish estate pipes, or that 50 percent had sandblasted finishes, or that 80 percent of the tobacco they’ve bought in the past five years has been by McClelland or Mac Baren or Cornell & Diehl. Those trends will allow purchasers to refine their search strategies.

Also interesting are the badges earned by customers and displayed on their profiles. These badges are bronze, silver and gold, in categories such as number of different tobaccos tried, number of years as a customer and VIP status, among others.

Online extras such as these help generate a dynamic online experience and provide better customer service—and they are just plain fun.

But where Smokingpipes.com truly excels is in the information it relays. It stays in constant contact with its clientele through two newsletters every week that provide entertaining articles as well as rundowns of new pipes and products. These newsletters simplify things for its readers—they’re easy and fast to scroll through, so readers can quickly see if anything interests them. And if something does, a click will bring them to more detailed lists of products or a specific pipe or tobacco, including photos, comprehensive descriptions and, in most cases, short histories of the brands.

That’s a lot of information, and it doesn’t just materialize by itself. Smokingpipes.com employs nearly 40 people and continues to expand. A tremendous amount of activity takes place behind the scenes so that pipe enthusiasts can see those new pipes and other products every week. It takes photographers, researchers, writers, administrative staff, sales staff, customer service staff, purchasing staff, quality control staff, shipping staff, warehouse staff, data entry staff, estate pipe restoration staff, programmers, website techs … it takes a lot of people all doing their jobs quickly and efficiently. Add to all that a beautiful, well-stocked, brick-and-mortar store, Low Country Pipe and Cigar, which also needs to be staffed and stocked and run, and you can see why everyone connected to the company keeps very busy.

The Smokingpipes.com representatives that consumers hear most from are the writers who generate copy for the newsletters and the website. Blogs, pipe descriptions, histories, anecdotes, interviews—this is the information that permits buyers to feel comfortable in purchasing a pipe without actually holding it, and it needs to be done for 400–500 pipes a week, plus accessories and tobacco. Most of the writers have other responsibilities as well, so it’s amazing that so much information is provided. You may already have read tens of thousands of their words. They all have distinctive personalities and styles, and they each have fans of their work. Here are the writers of Smokingpipes.com:

Sykes Wilford
The business started in 2000 in Wilford’s college dorm room and has grown steadily since. “The big changes in presentation,” he says, “really started happening in 2003–2004. I started writing deeper commentaries that skirted the edges of art criticism; I thought that’s how pipes should be discussed. It became a mental process for a couple of years where I was writing increasingly more complex—though not necessarily better—pipe descriptions and learning all I could about art criticism so I could sound relatively knowledgeable.”

Art criticism seems like a fine approach for high-grade artisan pipes, but people like to buy inexpensive pipes as well. “It works fine with Tokutomi or Lars Ivarsson, but not so well with factory pipes, which also need descriptions. So I was experimenting with the subjective aspects of describing pipes. The measurements and details are objective—is it briar or meerschaum, it is this size—but the art is subjective. The description has always been an exercise in the writer’s response to a pipe. Especially with high grades, descriptions contextualize the pipe in time and place or in an art movement.”

Wilford says there is no rulebook for the writers of Smokingpipes.com. “Write what you want—as long as it’s literate and intelligent and thoughtful, just about anything goes.” Anything but mistakes—the staff tries to limit those. “We copy edit each other’s work. We make sure that everything is edited because otherwise horrible things can happen.”

One issue every writer needs a mastery of is identifying specifically who the audience is and how to talk with that audience. Some people visit Smokingpipes.com to buy an inexpensive pipe because they’re fairly new to smoking, though experienced pipe smokers also like an inexpensive factory pipe as well. Those who purchase artisan pipes in the $1,000-plus range tend to be (though aren’t always) more experienced smokers who know quite a lot about pipes in general. And there are plenty of enthusiasts who fall in the middle. Providing the right rhetorical tone and detail of information, appealing to everyone, can be challenging. “Coming up with the right balance is really tough,” says Wilford. “We have to be careful not to assume too much about what our audience is already familiar with, and we don’t want to bore readers with information they already have. We’ll do more introductory-level coverage with a pipemaker who is new to us. But the descriptions aren’t the only form of information on the website—those who want more than is in the descriptions or introductions can often find it elsewhere on the site. Many of the pipemakers on the website have received some sort of treatment like a photo essay or blog posts. Descriptions stand alone and work as a whole in relationship to a particular pipe. Elsewhere we might have an article on a pipemaker with links to blog posts and other pertinent information.”

The twice-a-week newsletter sent by Smokinpipes.com is something that many look forward to, as it provides both entertainment and information. “The newsletter is in two parts,” says Wilford. “The introduction, which rotates between writers, serves an editorial function, sort of a letter from the editor; it sets the tone, it entertains, and some people look forward to them. Sometimes we do an awesome job, sometimes not, but we do more than a hundred a year, so not every one is better than its predecessors. The second part is a list of the different pipe brands represented in the update, written by the people who have done the write-ups of the individual pipes for that brand, so they’re already familiar with them.

“Usually the introduction will elicit a handful of email responses, mostly positive, occasionally negative.” But Wilford has found that as a general style has been developed for the newsletter, somewhat less feedback has been forthcoming. “And less criticism as well, so you might say that our style has been shaped both internally and externally. We listen to what people like and don’t like and try to always move in a positive direction.”

R. “Bear” Graves
Though he is no longer a part of the Smokingpipes.com team, Graves was the first of the full-time writers and helped set the tone for the way pipe information and entertainment would be presented.

“Sykes himself was the first real describer of pipes for the company,” says Graves. “He employed me. I’m positive he lost sleep wondering what he’d done.”

Graves has a medical background and a long history as a pipe lover. He also has experience in high-pressure sales, which doesn’t work on pipe enthusiasts, so he had to figure out how to do what he’d been hired to do. “We were making it up as we went along. It took about a year to learn it was just a matter of having a conversation with a pipe buddy. That conversational tone is what pipe guys respond to. I learned to employ a little knowledge with a small amount of humor to engage the reader. After that, my reviews started to get positive comments. We’d hear from people saying they liked my stuff.”

Graves says that there was a period during which he was writing more than 1,000,000 words a year. “It was a hell of a grind sometimes because it was all mine—I was the only describer.” Those numbers are especially impressive when one learns that Graves types with only two fingers—that’s 500,000-plus words per finger per year. Those are two undeniably articulate forefingers.

There was more than just describing pipes; Graves contributed in all categories. “I did verbiage for the Low Country website, artisan profiles, interviews and a lot more. Once I had done enough that Sykes no longer felt he needed to supplement my work, I was responsible for more than 70 percent of the writing that went on the website.” He found a rhythm and some loose formulas to help the workflow. “I’d start out: bang, bang, bang, three adjectives—something like ‘flowing in form, elegant in spirit and precise in engineering.’ I’d use lots of parentheses, because I speak parenthetically. And I wrote endlessly. I’m the anti-Hemingway; I don’t know how to write a short sentence.”

Ted Swearingen
With his responsibilities as vice president and general manager, Swearingen writes somewhat less than he used to. “I do a few high-grade pipe descriptions and a handful of intros a month, or a blog post. I don’t do as much as I did. But when I first came here I was doing a lot more.” The newsletters and website are what made Swearingen pursue a job with Smokingpipes.com in the first place. “The pipe descriptions are what helped me decide. As a pipe smoker, I wanted to work here, and what I especially appreciated were the pipe descriptions.”

He wasn’t out of work when he applied, but he knew he wanted to pursue a career in the pipe industry. “I had a job in California, but I came here for an interview and we all got along. Now I’m here.”

Sykes Wilford says that Swearingen’s situation was unusual. “Here was this guy who was clearly the right kind of person for us—he loved pipes, had some skills and lots of enthusiasm. We didn’t have a specific opening, but we couldn’t pass up an opportunity to add someone like Ted to our staff.”

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A noteworthy volume of response was received from the previous column, not all of which could be included here. The subject of collecting struck a chord with many readers, and I would like first to excerpt a few paragraphs from Mr. Owen KenKnight of Northfield, Minn.:

I own close to 50 pipes, and lately I’ve sold about 70. The ones I sold were acquired over the course of many years, and for one reason or another didn’t suit me. Everything I know has been learned by making mistakes. The first pipe I bought was wrong for me in every way, and it took a long time to find out what I really wanted. Now, as I’m starting to get old, what I want most of all is to sit down in the evening with a pipe I can smoke and a book I can read. And a glass of scotch at my elbow is not unwelcome. I’ll buy a few more pipes from time to time—I’ve just discovered the charms of the Lovat, for instance—but the truth is that I have enough.

To enjoy what we’ve got without wanting more is a step toward the saints and mystics. The philosophy is not so good for business, though, and probably should be left to those who are turning grey—if they can stick to it!

Mr. KenKnight and I have reached a similar point. I actually find it difficult to part with my pipes, and few have left my possession over the years. I acquire, but rarely disburse. My experiences with “estate” pipe dealers receiving my treasures have been poor, and I could kick myself over some that have left my hands, so that is a practice of the dim past. To be honest, despite the number of pipes I have, I come back repeatedly to a very limited number, and they satisfy me in their use. The favorites are tried and true friends. So the old reliables are cared for and tended with special consideration. I keep the others to remind me of the journey to get the select few that are just right. I have always contended that pipe smoking is a mystical experience, hence the few practitioners, as there are few mystics. And as my hair is virtually white, I can say that it has not been bad for business, because I have gone through a heckuva lot of pipes to get here.

More specific to the Jobey Strombolis I have collected, Mr. Mark Irwin relates this charming story:

In 1975 as a junior in high school, I spent my time in Algebra II drawing pipes with a friend of mine instead of listening to the instructor, which is probably one reason I teach English and failed that class. Some of the pipes we frequently drew were the Jobey Strombolis, which we drooled over at every opportunity when we went down to Ted’s Pipe Shoppe in Utica Square (Tulsa, Okla.) on Saturday mornings. We could never decide which color stem we liked the most.

They were expensive—for us. $12.50. Basket pipes were $7-8. I finally scrimped enough to buy my Stromboli 300, a square-shanked billiard with yellow stem—perhaps the shape fourth from the left in your photograph? I smoked it just the other night—it’s been refurbished three or four times (by me), had a hole poked through the bottom of the bowl (by me) and remains in a place of great honor in the cenobium (pipe rack).

In 1976, being in a downtown high school, I frequently skipped fourth period to browse the bookstores and have an extended lunch at one of the best hamburger joints in town. Almost as frequently I took my girlfriend, who usually bought my lunch. One day I lit up my Stromboli at the table after a fine repast (wow—it’s hard to remember a time I could smoke at a restaurant), and a little old lady—probably the age I am now—leaned over to my girlfriend and said, “Isn’t he cute? You should marry him.” It seemed very embarrassing at the time. Of course, that girl did marry me. She’s been a faithful supporter of all things pipe going on 35 years now.

Ah, the power of the Jobey Stromboli is not limited to bewitching my daughters, but extends even to promoting romance and lifelong commitment! It is a remarkable thing. But I must turn to the subject of this column, the corncob.

The corncob pipe has been with us for quite a while and is a quintessentially American product (please see the previous issue for an article on the Missouri Meerschaum Company). It is iconic in many ways, from Popeye through the resolution shown by General Douglas MacArthur in clamp-jawed profile. It is also considered by many to be an inferior smoke, or at the least déclassé, something for hoi polloi but not the cultured and sophisticated. I would beg to differ. I note it in American literature, as smoked by Roger Mifflin, the protagonist of The Haunted Bookshop by Christopher Morley, from whom I filched the name for this column. I also have it on good authority that, while usually pictured with a cigarette looking cool, Sammy Davis Jr., had a cob in the handkerchief pocket of his jacket while he lived in London. There are innumerable other examples from literature and life.

Aside from the undeserved image problem, I find them to be cool, light and excellent smokers. They come from Missouri Meerschaum in two forms: filled with clay on the exterior, and natural, or unfilled. Please refer to the pictures of the Missouri Pride (unfilled) and the Washington (filled), different models of the same pipe from Missouri Meerschaum. One can order these directly from the company (www.corncobpipe.com) and other sources mentioned below, in addition to drug and convenience store racks. The early history of the pipe is dominated by clays prior to the advent and eventual dominance of briar as the principal material. And in filling in the exterior of the bowl with clay, the absorptive virtues of the pipe are augmented along with heat tolerance, and I believe there is some longevity benefit as well. However, the unfilled cob weighs virtually nothing compared to all other pipes of similar size, and is a unique experience, especially for those with dentition or TMJ problems. I commend them to your attention.

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Pipe smokers are familiar with what is often called a pipe gift set, usually intended as a starter set for the beginner. Normally composed of a pipe, tobacco, pipe tool, pipe cleaners and matches or lighter, it might also include a tobacco pouch, wind screen or even a cork knocker for an ashtray. An early 20^th century book publisher, however, offered a distinctive variation on or perhaps a precursor to such gift sets.

In 1907, Dodge Publishing Company published Charles Welsh’s The Fragrant Weed: Some of the Good Things Which Have Been Said or Sung About Tobacco. Just as the early 20^th century H.M. Caldwell Co. tobacco books (P&T, Summer 2012) provided an excellent survey in prose, verse and song of all the forms in which tobacco has been enjoyed over the centuries, so too does this single volume. A couple of examples will suffice to give the flavor of the book. The following poem will assuredly hit home with those pipe smokers whose first experience with the pipe left something to be desired:

NICOTIANA

(BY A BEGINNER)

                                    O! INDIAN weed, Tobacco hight

(But stay! first let me get a light,)

The choicest gift the world e’er saw—

(Confound this pipe! why don’t it draw?)

Thou art of plants the noblest gem,

(There’s something sticking in the stem,)

Thy healing properties none doubt;

(That knitting-needle’s got it out.)

Virginian leaf! thou wert the cause

Of Raleigh’s genius (now it draws),

Thou didst inspire his tuneful song,

(Dear me! this Bird’s Eye’s very strong.)

Tobacco! whilst I thee adore,

(I don’t think I shall smoke much more,)

With awe, almost, thy praise I sing.

(This giddiness is not the thing.)

Of human pleasures thou the crown!

(I shall be better lying down),

Oh! anodyne of mental pain.

(You don’t catch me at this again!)

“Judy.” London.

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by Stephen A. Ross

There’s a certain bit of insecurity that most artists feel about their craft. The self-expression on display in their work brings with it a baring of the soul, a deep desire to connect one’s passion and experiences with those of others, to comment on the human condition in a variety of mediums—canvas, clay, bronze or wood. There is also the desire to stand out and shout “Here I am!”—to leave something behind that others will admire years after the artist’s life has ended. Each painting or sculpture is an opportunity to make a statement and forge a legacy. The best artists approach those opportunities nervously, anxious to see what they may achieve and how they will be received. It’s that anxiety that makes them work all the harder to hone their skills, no matter whether they are young or old. Each new piece brings with it the thrill and satisfaction of having created it and the hopes and prayers that others might like it.

A pipemaker, Nanna Ivarrson is one such artist. The daughter of Danish pipemaker Lars Ivarrson and the granddaughter of legendary pipemaker Sixten Ivarrson, Nanna grew up in the workshops of her father and grandfather. She sold her first pipe when she was just 9 years old—the sale price was approximately $35 and a little more than 8 pounds of candy. She discussed pipemaking with her grandfather and father and took their lessons to heart. But despite the years of experience and learning from two of the world’s more important pipemakers, she still gets butterflies in her stomach when she shows a pipe to a potential customer.

“I still get nervous about presenting a pipe, but then when I hear the buyer express his appreciation for it, I get relieved,” she explains. “With a pipe I’m never finished. There are always thoughts of what I could do to make it better. When it’s not finished, I can still think about what I can do with it. But when it’s done, it’s done. I have to force myself to accept it. And then I want to send it away because when it’s sitting here I’m always thinking about what I could have done to make it better. ‘I could have bent the stem on this one a little bit more,’ for example. Or, ‘Perhaps I have bent the stem a bit too much.’ I am always second-guessing my work on a pipe.”

The constant search for perfection that drives most artists is compounded for Nanna by the success and reputation of her father and grandfather. When pipe people think of the name Ivarrson, they think of only the very best—pipes that might belong more in a museum than inside the cabinet of a pipe smoker.

A Swede who immigrated to Denmark in the 1930s to work in his brother-in-law’s bill-collecting firm, Sixten came to pipemaking after World War II. Working at Poul Nielsen’s Kyringe-piben, which would later become Stanwell, Sixten tweaked the classic English shapes by making them slimmer and adding graceful curves before branching out and crafting completely original freehand shapes. Some have claimed that Sixten was the world’s best and most important pipemaker, and it’s hard to overestimate his influence in pipemaking. His designs and work ethic have inspired countless pipemakers, and his work has elevated the reputation of pipemakers from being viewed as relatively unskilled workers turning countless bowls on a factory lathe to the status of highly skilled artisans—sculptors, rather than factory workers.

Nearly as highly regarded as his father, Lars has become known for crafting pipes that exude life by bringing out the organic qualities of the briar. Not as driven to make as many pipes as Sixten, Lars has experimented more with the briar and sought an emotional and spiritual connection with it to bring out the shape nature intended.

Nanna naturally took after her grandfather and father, often spending her free time in their workshop pretending to make pipes when she was very young. As she grew older, they allowed her to turn make-believe into reality one step at a time. By the time she had reached her teenage years, she was finally deemed old enough to use the most dangerous equipment in the workshop.

When she was 18, Nanna apprenticed at Sixten’s Copenhagen studio while simultaneously pursuing a degree in industrial design at the prestigious Danmarks Designskole. While pipemaking was satisfying, Nanna sought a different avenue to express her creativity.

After successfully completing her degree, Nanna secured work at a firm designing household goods and furniture, but there were always the happy memories of making pipes. After two years working at the design firm, she left to learn more about pipemaking from her father.

After a year of working with him, Lars agreed she had mastered pipemaking well enough to set up her own workshop. She took much of her late grandfather’s equipment (Sixten died in 2001) and established a workshop in a building shared by craftsmen, artisans, designers and artists in Copenhagen. She then moved to New York City and worked in a similar building in the Williamsburg neighborhood of Brooklyn. Only able to obtain 90-day work visas, she had to travel back to Denmark every three months and get another visa to return to New York. Tiring of the trans-Atlantic crossings every three months, Nanna eventually returned to Denmark.

Today, Nanna and her sons Sixten and Mattis live in a home in a forest near her family in Koege. Nanna’s workshop is a large, bright and airy space. Adorning the walls are a few calendars and pieces of art, pictures of pipes and framed photos of Sixten at work. With the photos and Sixten’s pipemaking equipment inside, his influence is still present more than a decade after his death. Yet Nanna says her father has had a more direct impact on her pipemaking aesthetic.

“I was raised with the shapes that my father made, and they have become my idea of beauty,” the 38-year-old says. “My father’s pipes are so incredibly beautiful. His pipes are alive. They are so tense and powerful. They are strong. I think he makes the perfect pipes.”

The admiration for her father’s work goes beyond the products he makes. By working with her father, Nanna developed a way of communicating with him so they know exactly what the other means even though they may be miles apart and talking over the telephone. It is a difficult accomplishment to achieve in the visual arts—to describe exactly what you see to someone so that they see the same thing.

“My father and I can talk about shapes as if we were sitting here together and drawing on the same piece of paper instead of talking on the telephone. I can draw what he’s telling me over the phone. I know exactly what he taught me. We are so close, shape-wise. My grandfather loved to make pipes, but he was a hardworking man. My father has the same feelings that I have. It’s very nice to talk to him because he understands exactly how I feel when I’m making a pipe—the disappointment and the exhilaration.”

Rather than emulate the work of her father and grandfather, Nanna has strived to capture her own creative expression. It first happened in the industrial design field, and it is now happening in pipemaking. Each pipe is an opportunity for Nanna to step forward as an artist and a pipemaker in her own right—a challenge she is welcoming with more comfort.

“It’s important that I try to get away from [their] shapes and force myself to do something of my own,” she comments. “I never try to copy a pipe. But following the grain, I sometimes see the same thing my father or grandfather would see. They were so inspired, and they have nearly done all the shapes that a person could do, so it’s very hard to find a new shape. My pipes are changing a little bit all the time. I am very strongly influenced by my father in shaping a pipe because I think his pipes are so beautiful, but there are differences. When I make a shape, it is very similar to his but it is different. There is a Nanna shape versus a Lars shape versus a Sixten shape. Now I am more comfortable making the Nanna shape. My experience is just like my father’s, who was influenced by his father and then over time started developing his own shapes.”

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by H. Lee Murphy

Pipemen take up the habit for all kinds of reasons, but Lyn Beyer’s was an unusual case. An undergraduate at the University of Missouri back in 1966, the khaki-clad Beyer (pronounced Buy-er) paid $14.95 to buy his father a Falcon pipe meant to serve as both a Christmas present and a means of weaning the old man away from his beloved cigarettes. His father never got to see the present—just before delivery he died of a heart attack at the age of 60. Lyn took the pipe on to school and smoked it as a sort of memorial to his father’s tobacco experiences.

“I could have returned that pipe and gotten my money back,” Beyer, who is 66 today, remembers. “But I figured that if it was meant for him and he couldn’t have it, then it was meant for me to have and smoke.”

He’s still smoking today, with a collection of more than 1,100 pipes that has grown so far beyond cataloguing that most are kept in 20-gallon plastic tubs at his home in suburban Kansas City. He has at least 60 unsmoked Savinelli Autographs and another 14 still-new Preben Holm creations. His tastes today run in favor of freehands, often with plateau tops in large sizes. Few people around the country have ever seen Beyer’s collection, because he attends few pipe shows and is reluctant to jump on to Internet chat lines to confer with other collectors about blends and vintages and carving styles.

And yet practically everybody with an enthusiasm for tobacco in Kansas City knows Beyer. He’s the proprietor of one of the heartland’s very best retail shops, Cigar & Tabac Ltd. in the Kansas City suburb of Overland Park. He’s also the co-founder and sponsor of one of the best clubs anywhere, the Greater Kansas City Pipe Club, which meets monthly at his store with 50 members or so in attendance and a real agenda of guest speakers and tobacco sampling. Beyer is fully immersed in all things briar, carving his own pipes, performing repairs for customers and blending his own tobaccos with assistance from McClelland Tobacco Co., which is headquartered a short drive away. Beyer and his wife and partner, Bobbe—the two have been married 44 years—are such good friends with McClelland’s owners, Mike and Mary McNiel, that they spend Thanksgiving together every year.

At a time when many tobacco emporiums are retreating from pipes, Cigar & Tabac is fearlessly devoted to its inventory of 700 pipes and 80 bulk tobaccos—17 of them created by Beyer himself—as well as 1,400 cigar labels, the latter on display in a sprawling 1,600-square-foot walk-in humidor within the 4,000-square-foot store. Cigar & Tabac sells an average of five pipes a day, or more than 1,500 a year, though this remains decidedly a small business.

There is also a second store, spanning 1,400 square feet with 250 pipes on display, in the St. Louis suburb of Town and Country, Mo. Beyer is a St. Louis native, and he has harbored notions of retiring back to his hometown someday, even if he’s too busy with the headquarters store in Overland Park to move anywhere anytime soon.

Cigar & Tabac thrives in otherwise fiercely competitive markets. In St. Louis, the Town and Country store faces off against entrenched rivals such as John Dengler Tobacconist in St. Charles and Jon’s Pipe Shop in Clayton. In Overland Park, the main rivals include Diebel’s Sportsmens Gallery in the Country Club Plaza, which stocks the Dunhill and Davidoff brands that Cigar & Tabac doesn’t have, and the two-location Outlaw. Each of the rivals has formidable walk-in humidors and lots of space as well as the advantage of superior locations. But they can’t match Beyer’s pipe selection and services tailored for briar connoisseurs.

Beyer is that rare tobacconist who has actual big-box retail training and experience. After graduating from college in 1968, and marrying Bobbe, he embarked on a career with Sears Roebuck, completing a management program in El Paso, Texas, then embarking on a merry-go-round that included stops at Sears stores around Texas before finally transferring to Kansas City in ’72. But Sears’ management changed and the business became too stressful, and before long Beyer switched careers to life insurance, selling on commission, and then later did some public relations work. Through all this time he was smoking pipes—he got his first Jobey freehand from Diebel’s in 1973—and learning more about tobaccos.

Cigar & Tabac was born in 1982, with Beyer investing $20,000 in a claustrophobic 585-square-foot retail nook in an enclosed mall in Overland Park, 10 blocks from the current location. It was an inauspicious start, with Lyn selling GBDs and Comoys and Jobeys priced from $15 to $40 along with a couple of dozen bulk tobaccos. His first proprietary blend was called Black Forest and was a combination of cherry and vanilla flavors. “I had to give it away back at the start. Now it’s my second biggest seller,” Beyer recalls. Business in the ’80s, he adds, was so tough that he couldn’t pay himself a salary throughout his first five years. The couple and their lone child, Jennifer (40 years old now), depended on Bobbe’s income as a bank officer.

Caution was the byword for Beyer as he built the business slowly. Kansas City’s legacy tobacconist, called Englander’s, was put up for sale in the ’80s and offered to Beyer. He negotiated to buy it until the price got too high, then backed off. It later went to a relative and eventually went out of business. Beyer has fond memories of the pipe industry in those days, when wholesale reps for brands such as Savinelli and Comoy and GBD all lived in Kansas City and were a fount of knowledge. “Each guy would come back from a tour of the factory and tell me about all the new products that were coming,” Beyer says. “They had great stories to share with you and everything was conducted on a personal basis. Now the reps are gone. If you need a Savinelli for your shelf, you get on the phone and talk to somebody you don’t know long distance to place an order. It isn’t the same at all.”

By 1987 Cigar & Tabac was the biggest pipe retailer in the region, and Beyer moved up to a larger, 1,500-square-foot space notable for a 500-foot humidor. Through the early and mid-’90s he was growing 25 percent and more a year, with pipe volume reaching 500 pieces annually. By 1997 Bobbe quit her job at the bank and came on as a partner. Lyn now spends more time with one of his abiding passions, the Masonic Lodge. He’s a 32^nd degree Mason, is in the grand lodge line in Kansas and is devoted to various fundraising projects, such as an annual golf tournament for his customers that helps raise money for cancer research at Kansas University.

Read the rest of the story in Pipes and tobaccos magazine or in the online digital edition.