My wife bought me a Stanley Thermos for christmas. Honestly, it was the only thing I wanted (I love hot coffee). I use it every day, and it works like a champ. Two days ago, a coworker ran over the thermos with a truck. I was pretty upset. That was until I opened it up six hours later. The coffee was still hot and tasty as ever. This crushed thermos still works like the day I got it. I just wanted to let you know that I am still using it, and am amazed by the product that you put out. This thing is indestructible. Thank you for your great craftsmanship and awesome thermos.

Two Christmas' ago, when my husband and I were both back in the States for our yearly US visit (he being a South African and us living in South Africa for the past few years) I wasn't sure of what to buy him for Christmas, mostly because whatever it was meant we had to bring it back with us. I remember him saying he always wanted a Stanley and that he remembered his grandmother in Zimbabwe used to have an old one that for some reason recently came to his mind. So that was his Christmas gift. We brought it back to South Africa to our beach town of Ballito and on numerous occasions, even when it was in the middle of summer and hot and beyond humid, we would fill up our Stanley with coffee take the 5 min drive to the beach and just enjoy the moment. My husband would use the Stanley top and I my little black ceramic mug. Sometimes in the sand and sometimes an old log would wash up and that would come be our spot for the hour. At first we would go and talk about how beautiful our little neck of the woods was but as the year went on we were making plans to move back to the States where our conversation turned to our worries and hopes for the future, all while admiring the ocean and the occasional dolphins and sipping on our coffee. We would just call the experience "Beach coffee".

I work for Big CIty Mountaineers, organizing and mentoring volunteers and urban underserved teens. Some days are 7am to 9pm non-stop action and inspiration. When I get a little cold and low energy on an outdoor overcast day, I know Stanley has exactly what I need.....a nice warm cup of green tea, hot and ready all day long! Thanks Stanley Love, Nicole

I am a 41 year old long haul truck driver, and I recently purchased a Stanley thermos. I bought it so I wouldn't need to stop as often to get coffee on those days I needed more than I cup. Then a few weeks after buying your product, I had a delivery that was scheduled a bit tight, so I drove straight into the delivery site, knowing I could park on site until they came in at 8am to unload me. Problem was, I also knew that I wasn't going to get there until after midnight, and therefor wouldn't get a full night's sleep. Add to that was the fact that the nearest place to get some morning coffee once I left my delivery, that I could get my tractor-trailer into, was an hour away. So I decided to stop an hour before I got to my delivery, fill my Stanley thermos with fresh coffee, and hope it was still hot and fresh in the morning. I got to my delivery, crawled into the bunk, and went to sleep. And slept until after 8am. By the time I remembered I had coffee, it was after 9. I opened my thermos, and to my very pleasant surprise, got steaming hot coffee, fresh as it was ELEVEN hours ago! Really made my morning. Thank you for making such a fine product.

I was a weak, awkward and bookish little girl. I hated my families inclination, while on vacation, to get up early and fish, hike a mountain, swim across a pond, and then play a few rounds of tennis as the sun set. And yet they always insisted I join them. I kept up and kept my mouth shut. I didn't enjoy it. At 17, my father took me along on a river rafting trip down the Selway river in Idaho. The lead guide, Harvey, wore cowboy boots and drank coffee out of a Stanley Thermos all day long. He was like a character from a novel, tender hearted and rough edged, with a world of experience under his belt and a boisterous enthusiasm for the natural world. My father, who normally loved his children by his side, stepped back. I rode with Harvey down the river, day after day. I soaked up what I could of his well-storied knowledge of the life in those canyons and beyond. I learned how to pick a line through rapids and tie a proper bowline knot at last. One afternoon, on that river, in freezing rain and through chattering teeth, I drank my first sip of coffee from Harvey's thermos. It seemed a miracle-- the warmth of the morning's fire held through to that late hour. Every morning after that, I drank hot black coffee from the Stanley thermos. Every day I grew stronger than I ever knew I could be, finding a bravery and will hidden deep within. I found over the next few years that I liked the isolation and glory of back country travel. I learned to row. I started to hike on my own. Within a few years, after finishing college, I bought a truck. As I was leaving my parents' farm in Pennsylvania for my first solo drive across the country, my father handed me two gifts. The first was a giant long flashlight, the kind police use, loaded up with 4 D batteries in its handle. "If you run into any trouble, you shine this in his eyes and then knock him hard over the head with it. Like this. Then you get out of there." The second gift was a Stanley Thermos, already filled with hot black coffee. It fueled that long wandering road trip and many more to follow. 20 something years later, I still have that thermos. It has a big dent down the middle-- I ran over it with the truck-- but it still keeps my coffee warm for hours. I stay put mostly these days. My kids see little evidence of my wandering life-- except that I can really tie a load down tight onto the roof of our car, and I drink my coffee from an old, dented Stanley thermos. Each sip reminds me of where I have been and who I have become, how my father knew when to let me go and what I needed in order to do so.

The very first vacation I can remember was a trip to Yellowstone back in 1960. My parents and I stayed with Grandpa in his Ford truck and its homemade camper. The Grand Tetons, the geysers, and the hotpots were magical. And everywhere Grandpa went, his Stanley went, too--hot coffee made the wilderness even better. As I grew older, I realized that his Stanley was almost more important than his lunchbox at work. He liked his coffee nearly scalding, and it kept nice and hot. When Grandpa retired, it traveled with him from Alaska to Mexico, and both coasts of the US. I'm a coffee drinker, too. I inherited Grandpa's Stanley, and it's a prize possession--makes traveling better with hot coffee and memories.