The Back Room

18th February, 2010: Posted by glpease in Editorial

Almost every Saturday, you’d find us there. The back room at Drucquer & Sons’ Piedmont Avenue store would be haunted by pipemen, sitting, standing, smoking, drinking from the never-empty coffee pot, sharing whatever old tobaccos had been discovered languishing, forgotten in the back of some out of the way tobacconist’s shop - “That old stuff? I’ll give you a deal if you want all six” - or rescued from the dusty shelves of antique stores or the attics of friends of friends - “My father smoked a pipe.” It was a time when pipe smokers weren’t exactly in vogue, but neither had we been disenfranchised by a society of nannies bent on destroying anything that resembles pleasure for its own sake. We gathered. We socialized. We showed and told of our recent acquisitions, and sometimes traded them. And, we smoked.

The back room of Drucquer’s was was where I first began to learn the subtleties of the pipe, and the profound pleasures it could bring. It was where I was introduced to vintage tobaccos, and the advantages a few years of age would offer those patient enough to lay some tins aside. Very few people consciously aged tobaccos then. Robert Rex, who owned the shop at the time, was likely something of a pioneer in that respect, setting some blends aside for five years, then selling them at a higher price, their labels rubber-stamped simply with the words “Aged Five Years” in block type. I don’t know if the first one he did was an accident, or if it was just another marketing angle he was chasing, or if he really knew that time was good for some tobaccos, but I suspect it was the latter. Robert knew his weeds. These aged tins didn’t always play to an enthusiastic audience. Some would shake their heads, “I’d rather have mine fresh,” or give grave counsel, “What fool is going to pay more for old tobacco?” But, the few who knew, then, would buy it, relishing the intense, fermented aromas of the leaf when the tin was first opened. And, they’d share.

The store was long and narrow, reaching from Piedmont Avenue to the parking lot in the rear, and was divided almost in two. The front was where business was done, where the pipes were displayed, and where, during weekdays, the neophyte and expert mingled democratically, guidance was offered, pipes, tobacco, cigars and accessories were sold. The back of the shop held the walk-in, packed with boxes of beautiful cigars, the tobacco bar, the coffee, and on Saturdays, the gang, a dangerous lot of scals if ever there was one. We were armed; we had pipes, and knew how to use them.

It was in that inner sanctum, the air thick with fragrant clouds, where I acquired my first Barling in a trade, an army mount billiard in the brown Fossil finish, sporting a 1949 hallmark on its exquisite silver floc. It was where I had my first bowls of so many classic tobaccos, including my first brush with the now legendary Craven Mixture, stronger than I’d been led to believe, and which sent me spinning on the dreaded E-ticket ride on the Whirl-n-Hurl, my first experience of high-octane, pipe-induced nausea. I learned, that day, to pay attention to the smoke; by not doing so, you miss a lot, but more importantly, our Lady Nicotine can be a cruel mistress if not treated with the respect due her.

I made friends, there.

Mark made elaborate multi-way trades, working the room with bouquets of pipes jutting from his fists, and in the end, everyone felt they’d got the best of the deal. How he kept track of everything was a Kreskin-like feat that, to this day, leaves me in awe. Eric held court in the big red chair, cleaning and polishing his beautiful old Dunhills with loving care. He shined his stems with nothing but a paper towel - I forget which brand he preferred - and they always gleamed, black as jet. David was quick to laugh and share a story or two, contentedly puffing on his Barlings and Charatans. Ziggy would open his briefcase of pipes, and tell tales about each one, and the ones that got away. Gaston coached me with his wisdom when I’d get overly enthusiastic about some pipe trade, “Don’t be hasty. Do you really like it? Does it speak to you? There will always be another great pipe.” John would look at each pipe with equanimity. “That’s a fantastic example of what it is.” Al would only smoke Three Nuns in pipes made in the 1920s or before. “They knew how to make pipes, then. They just taste better.” The memories are palpable.

I was a kid, but was never looked down upon by the “old timers,” who were younger then than I am today. They shaped the way I look at pipes, the way I enjoy our pastime. They were, to a large extent, responsible for my first steps on a lifetime’s journey along the Pipe Road. They took me under their wings, mentored me, brought me up in the way of the pipe, and initiated me into what was to become known to me as more than just a hobby, but a culture. I owe those men a lot. If not for their caring cultivation of the enthusiastic tyro, the briar might have been just another of so many passing fancies on a long list of those.

Shops like Drucquer’s may have been, at some point in the distant past, the norm, but by the 1980s, they were already becoming a rarity, and are even more so today. It’s easy to wax nostalgic over days past, and often with good reason. Many factors - the marginalization of smoking, the cost of doing business, the declining population of pipe smokers as more and more people are to busy for time-consuming ritual, finding instead their smoking pleasures in the more casual and convenient forms of cigars and cigarettes, increased tobacco taxes and others - have conspired to destroy an old, wonderful tradition.

But, the tradition lives in spite of the pressures against it. Though many of those shops are shuttered, we have technology in our court, with the on-line communities, the forums, the chat rooms, and websites where we can share a similar, if virtual, camaraderie with our fellows. I miss Drucquer’s. I miss those days. But, I’m grateful, daily, for the pleasures of being able to share thoughts and views with other pipesters in the electronic pipe shop of the Internet.

13 Responses

  1. Dunedain Says:
    February 18th, 2010 at 17:55

    Oh yes, me too. Just in a different location in the Midwest. But, time goes on and I for one appreciate what you are making now, much as I would like too have some of the old ones. So thanks!

  2. Bill Curnutte Says:
    February 19th, 2010 at 12:00

    We have the same memories, only of different places and different people. I’ve moved around a lot, so there was Rex’s Pipe Shop in Topeka, Kansas, David’s Briar Shop in Omaha, Nebraska, Diebel’s Pipe Shop in Kansas City, Missouri (still there but in a different location and not the same place it used to be), the old Smoker’s Haven in Columbus, Ohio. Now I get to Pipes and Pleasures in Columbus and they’re much like the one’s I remember: the front where business is done, and the “back room” where there’s a TV and coffee pot, the occasional poker game or gin rummy, and lots of guys, young and old swapping knowledge and lots of tall tales.

  3. Rick Says:
    February 19th, 2010 at 20:25

    I sat down tonight to try Maltese Falcon (A+, by the way), and pulled up the B&LC to see if there was anything new. Boy, I’m glad I did. Your description of your experiences at Drucquer’s was so vivid I could picture myself there, which only saddens me. Someone over at the puff.com pipe forum posed the question “what part of our hobby do you dislike?”. Part of my answer was that although I think we may actually be in the golden age of pipe tobaccos, we completely missed the golden age of pipe smoking. Stores like Drucquer’s couldn’t be rarer today. Yes, the internet allows us to communicate with pipe smokers all over the world, any time of day. And internet retailing has kept the price of pipe tobacco low, and availability high. But I would give anything to have a “neighborhood tobacconist” (as opposed to cigar shops, of which there are more than a few in the Atlanta metro area, but almost no shops with more than a token nod to pipes). I’m glad you cherish those memories, Greg, because for the vast majority of today’s pipe smokers theey the kind of memories we won’t have an opportunity to make. By the way, why didn’t Drucquer’s survive?

  4. glpease Says:
    February 20th, 2010 at 0:26

    A cascade of very bad business decisions was the cause - any one of which might have been survivable, but when played in concert, the store’s demise was inevitable. Truly sad, too. However, I consider the last day of Drucquer’s the day the Berkeley store was closed, not the day the new location went under.

    I’m not quite so grim, Rick. I think there’s actually a resurgence of interest in not only the pipe, but in the pipe community, the pipe culture. It’s quite possible that the new blood could revive the body before it’s cold, albeit in a different form. Maybe the old stores won’t be there, but maybe something of their spark could be kindled in clubs, or casual gatherings, or other things.

    True, not the same, but tradition lives within those who preserve it. Don’t lament the passing of the past over long, but use some of that energy to create the future. We’re not dead, yet, mate.

  5. ShaneS Says:
    February 21st, 2010 at 13:55

    I’m 37 and been pipe smoking on and off for 20 yrs now, the last 2 yrs on a regular basis(2-8 bowls a day). I smoked Uhle’s blend exclusively since that is what was available locally. 2 yrs ago I tried a bunch of your blends(THE BEST!) from an Internet vendor, now I am a regular. Recently I have had the pleasure of introducing two 20 yr olds to the pipe and your blends, which I share regularly. I laughed when they first tried Haddo’s.

    With the Internet and friends from work, I don’t feel so alone no more. I am excited and we are alive! Thanks Greg for all your work and great blends!

    Off to smoke some Blackpoint.

  6. Daniel Says:
    March 3rd, 2010 at 7:41

    I consider myself blessed to have a true old-fashioned tobacco shop here in my city. On every Saturday we gather at “The Liars’ Bench” and smoke. Many smoke cigars - many smoke pipes - but a wonderful time is had by all. Ages range from the young (at 25 I am one of the youngest) to the old, but we enjoy the company and the camaraderie.

    I am also grateful for the online communities that I have found in Christian Pipe Smokers and Smokers Forums, but nothing can replace Bruce’s Pipe Shop.

  7. Jon Burton Says:
    March 21st, 2010 at 10:40

    I am 2 hours from the closest pipe shop. The web is my virtual pipe shop. So, I love coming here to GLP’s back room, and soaking up the fellowship. It is a great service to my outgoing but islanded pipeman’s soul.

  8. John Hefele Says:
    March 27th, 2010 at 9:25

    As I get closer to 50 I read these blogs, thoughts, whatever, with increasing interest. Gatherings at places like your local tobacconist, if your able to sit, talk and share thoughts and ideas with others contributes to the fellowship of men in much the same way as does the neighborhood tavern. We’re all different yet we share commonalities with each other. I find gathering places like these comforting and in a world where homogeneity rules they are are in many ways the last vestiges of a time lost: A time of simple socializing where characters were embraced and nobody cared so much about what you had, where you went to school and what you did for a living……

  9. Robert Rex Says:
    April 16th, 2010 at 14:47

    Great memories at Drucquers. I have pictures on my wall.

    First, Drucquers didn’t survive because of two things, anti smoking and taxes. I sold Drucquers in 1982 because a year early the Berkeley public school system started to teach to their students that tobacco was evil. That was handwriting on the wall, that there would be a new generation of none smokers. When the first Surgeon Generals report came out in 1960 or 61 it was anti cigarettes but pro pipe and cigar. That obviously changed with the later reports. I still believe that it is the additives in the cigarettes that are the real killers, not the nicotine.

    Secondly, it was the taxes. When the state government started to add more sin tax to tobacco and then later by public initiative it made pipe tobacco and particularly cigars too expensive for many people. That caused many to quit smoking.

    To a lessor extent bad business decisions were a factor because during the 20 years I operated or owned Drucquer & Sons, Ltd. I watched tobacco shops change from being business to hobbies. You can’t survive running a business as a hobby.

    On the subject of the aged tobacco I started to do it because good aged tobacco was collectible, serious smokers wanted it, so why not supply it. It wasn’t just the aging, as a chemist, with the help of my friends from Cal Berkeley, we isolated many of the spores and yeasts that caused the tobacco to age. After playing with them we learned that we could accelerate the process by heating the tobacco in the tin (called panning). We started a new line of pipe tobaccos that were made this way. We also learned which tobaccos had a higher incidence of the flora that caused the fermentation (actually a conversion of starches to sugars) and added more of these sources to the blends. I still have several tins now 20 to 30 years old.

    Cigars age the same way. I age mine about 2 years and look for cigars that have been forgotten in the humidors. You can tell the aged ones because the tobacco gradually looses its sponginess, not to be confused with drying out.

    I now make wine, with the same passion. Check out our website.

    Cheers,
    Robert Rex

  10. glpease Says:
    April 16th, 2010 at 15:16

    Robert, thank you for stopping by! It’s been too long…

    I do want to clarify that it was not under your ownership that the bad business decisions I mentioned were made. Of course, your departure did have a significant impact on the feel of the place, and I’m sure that didn’t do it much good. Few people could have filled your shoes there. It takes something special to create and maintain the kind of vibe that Drucquer’s had while you owned it.

    I truly miss those days.

    And, in case anyone missed it, stop by the Deerfield Ranch website to see what Robert is up to these days. I’ve tasted some of his wines, and they’re fantastic.

  11. Vinnie799 Says:
    April 18th, 2010 at 11:12

    I absolutely loathe people who can go to a backroom of a tobacconist. LOL ! Here in Delaware you can’ t smoke inside of anywhere except one’s own home. In my younger day when I was about 14 I use to go to a shop in Talleyville De , in the Concord Mall I loved the smell of the place. I know know that the smell was the owners pipe full of some latakia blend, and smoking was allowed for a while. When I turned 19 or so I got married and moved away 3-4 years ago I’m back in the area, shop moved out of the mall and ya can’t smoke anywhere. Can you imagine trying to buy tobacco, putting your hand in a jar for a sample of the house blends and to sit you a car or just go outside to taste it. it sucks.

    Seems like there ought to be a ‘club’ at private residences. Hey that idea just came to mind. I like it!! Might just see what it takes to advertise a pipe club without using the word pipe ,tobacco,smoke, and the like. Hmm…

  12. Tim Haggerty Says:
    April 27th, 2010 at 15:20

    I learned how to smoke good tobacco at Druquer’s, both at their shop on University Avenue and the Piedmont location. I had no idea as a kid — I was a student at Cal from 1981 to 1986 — what a treasure it was, but it’s where I became introduced to good cigars and began smoking a pipe.

    In fact, my first residence was across the street on University, at least for a few months, next to the California Theater, and between the humidor and the classic films, I became happily acclimated to California. You could actually smoke in the theater then.

    But times change; I’ve become a great pipe enthusiast since then, and still feel like the GLP blends carry the spirit of the old Druquer’s blends with them — honest high quality tobacco.

    I live in Pittsburgh, PA now, where you can still smoke at a tobacconist. And yes, a bunch of guys get together to trade pipes, light up, and enjoy the camaraderie.

  13. glpease Says:
    April 27th, 2010 at 15:34

    Tim, I suspect that our paths may have crossed more than once during those years. They were memorable times, for sure. And, thank you for your kind words about my blends.

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