My First Taste of Coffee

My First Taste of Coffee

My grandfather would make sure of all his fishing gear and tackle box, load them into the trunk of a two-tone 1956 Chevrolet 210 sedan and go back to get our lunch bucket, packed full of sandwiches, chips and snacks. My grandmother would give Grandpa his Stanley, full of coffee, and we were off before sun-up to our favorite spot on the river. On one particularly cool morning, I asked Grandpa what was in that big bottle of his. He gave me my first taste of coffee and laughed at the face I made as I swallowed.
After a few more exposures to the stuff, with the addition of cream and sugar, Grandpa had a coffee drinking fishing buddy that was all of seven years old. Of course, that merited getting me a Stanley, like Grandpa's. Where that original one is, I don't know now. The one I have currently (a new 1.1 qt) had to replace a lost one - a seasoned veteran of 18 years. Before it was lost, I had the privilege of seeing the same grimace on my grandnephew's face that was on mine, as he had his first taste of coffee from my Stanley. These are more than just containers for beverages. They have the absolutely wonderful capacity of keeping memories warm and vivid too. These memories need to be collected and published in hardback book form. This is the best of America, its people, and why we are so darn unique.