#FarrisStory "I remember when I was little, my grandfather used to sit at the kitchen table at his home in Tennessee, and smoke his pipe. I loved the smell of it, and his cup of instant coffee in the morning, and, sometimes he would even let me put the tobacco in it; I thought it was the coolest thing ever. He had one of those Sherlock Holmes looking pipes, and it was the first one I had ever seen. About a year ago I was out at a cigar lounge and just happened to catch that old familiar aroma, and there, just sitting across the room, was an old gentleman with one of those pipes, of which, I hadn't seen since my grandfather passed away years ago. I found myself asking the man if I could just sit with him and enjoy the memories of my youth with my grandfather. He was overjoyed to hear some of my stories and even shared some of his own. Even though I never got his name or gave mine, for that brief moment, I felt like I was back at the kitchen table with my grandfather. Memories like that are what make life precious to me." - Steve from Cimarron, KS
