Glancing down nervously at my watch, yikes, I thought—it’s already 6:15.

I zipped into a parking space and quickly cut the engine, then hopped out of my car in the lot of the Pheasant Run Resort that early morning of Friday, May 2, apprehensive in my quest for a coveted half-table at the Chicagoland International Pipe & Tobacciana Show’s ‘Pre-Show’ sale, set to commence later that morning. I had heard that the sale’s spaces—doled out on a first-come, first served basis—always go quickly, with a number of hardy folks showing up long before dawn to await the 6:30 A.M. start of registration.

That morning I had headed out much later than planned, groggily leaving the house just after 5:00 A. M. to make the drive an hour or so south to the Mega-Center in St. Charles. Now, as I crossed the parking lot to approach the lobby, I wondered: Had I made it in time to snag myself a spot?

Just then I caught some movement off to the right—and turning to look in that direction, I suddenly saw the throng of early-birds already assembled near the far entryway of the Mega-Center expectantly waiting for registration to begin. I went to go join them and as I took my place at the end of the line, I sensed a cozy collegiality in the air—along with perhaps just a nice touch of Butternut Burley.

Bidding the fellow ahead of me a pleasant good morning, the line behind us grew quickly. I did not yet see any familiar faces, but enjoyed witnessing many a reunion of apparent old friends—some exchanging friendly man-hugs, others enthusiastic handshakes or a hearty slap on the back. The warm blend of mostly male voices roused the crisp dawn air like a welcome cup of joe: satisfying, rich and full. My heart gladdened, I smiled upon discovering that along with the many regional American accents I heard, I also detected first French, then German, then Italian, followed by a hearty Slavic-sounding language that I could not quite place…and I thought how great that folks from every corner of the country and every part of the world could still come together, and in suburban Middle America no less—to share in a treasured and increasingly threatened pastime...

The line began to advance promptly at 6:30 A.M. when I overheard someone say that the Chicagoland Pipe Collector’s Club (CPCC) would issue just ninety-six half-tables for the Friday pre-show sale. With knitted brow I eyed the considerable crowd ahead of me and worried—what if I could not get a spot?

Following the flock inside to the Mega-Center’s main foyer, I took a quick look around to continue sizing things up when suddenly an entirely unexpected UH-OH hit me like a ton of bricks. NO SMOKING – CPCC read several signs, plastered across all entry doors to the main exhibit hall. Crud. The club’s organizers must have run in to some eleventh-hour big-time trouble surrounding the new Illinois smoking ban.

In the days leading up to the event, I had gone online several times and had learned that Frank Burla (the show’s venerable executive director) and his pipe club colleagues had worked diligently with the Pheasant Run staff and local law enforcement to ensure that the show would conform to the letter of the recently-enacted anti-smoking law. In addition to the outdoor smoking tent erected specially for the event, all officials had agreed that smoking could occur inside the Mega-Center hall provided that the club and all attendees follow a series of straight-forward conditions. So…what the heck happened?

I did not get to find out. The line moved briskly and at least on my first question (would I land a spot?) I quickly found, not to worry. Several of the early-arrivers evidently planned to buddy-up and share their spaces, so I came in comfortably at number fifty-one.

Instructed to return at 8:30 A.M. for admittance to the hall, famished, I ran up the street to grab a quick bite of breakfast. Upon my return, a buzz of anticipation already filled the Mega-Center lobby. With all eyes eagerly trained on the event organizers, the CPCC staff rushed to make final preparations to allow us entrance to set out our respective wares ahead of the 9:00 A.M. opening. Curiously—I scanned the crowd and detected no upset whatsoever surrounding the signs posted prohibiting smoking inside the hall. Had no one else even seen them?

Within moments, Paul Bender of the CPCC came forward to first warmly welcome us to the show and he then explained that we would enter the hall in order of the numbers given us two hours earlier. Resultantly, the crowd shuffled about just slightly, respectfully trying to get somewhat in the proper order before stepping ahead toward the doors.

Finally—in we went.

With the display tables arranged in one corner of the large exhibit space, everyone made a bee-line toward them and set furiously to work setting out his or her pipes, tobacco, and assorted tobacciana. I settled on an open spot on the left side of the center aisle, third from the far end. Assessing the space against my inventory and display materials, WOW, I thought…is everything going to fit? It turned out that a half-table did not provide nearly the space that I had thought it would. Ah well, I soon decided, I’ll just have to make due.

I first pulled out several copies of my book, Back From The Ashes: Uncovering the Lost History of G. L. Hunt and the Falcon Pipe and set them out for sale near the front of the table and then placed several of my business cards alongside. To highlight the books on display, behind them I proudly set up my new oversized poster featuring the book’s front cover on one side and several reader testimonials on the other, along with the news of my great good fortune in having won a 2008 literary award for the work from the esteemed Illinois State Historical Society.

Finally, I set out an assortment of vintage unsmoked Falcon pipes in various finishes, colors and styles that I planned to offer for sale along with my book. I had sold quite a handy number of the pipes and books across the weekend at last year’s show and hoped to do well in ’08, too. (A nice stash of the unsmoked pipes had turned up a couple of years ago when my family prepared to finally shut down the old factory where our grandfather once manufactured them in Chicago. Remarkably, my brother George had rescued our prized pipes from the dumpster, where some poor sap had tossed them—evidently oblivious as to their value…)

I had barely finished my setup when the crowd—filled with eager anticipation—came rushing in to the hall. The sudden whirl of excitement exhilarated me and any apprehension I had felt beforehand evaporated in an instant.

Still, my first sale would not come for more than an hour.

A pleasant gentleman with an Eastern European accent suddenly came along, picked up a copy of my book and immediately told me that he would like to purchase it.

“Wonderful,” I said, taking the book from him as he passed it to me. “May I sign it for you?” He nodded in agreement, so I asked his name.

“Jacek Schmidt,” he said softly while pulling his business card from his wallet to hand it to me.

“OH…oh my goodness,” I exclaimed, looking down at the classy card featuring a sketch of Jacek smoking a pipe on front, “I know who you are!”

Caught completely by surprise, I simply cannot help but get excited when someone so well-known and so well-respected within the pipe community purchases my book. I mean REALLY: How cool that Jacek Schmidt, Polish pipe-smoking superstar, Mr. fajka.org and a pipe book author himself, would carry my humble little work back to his home half way around the world. And what is more, he might even read it.

I had barely recovered from my encounter with Jacek when I noticed Pierre Pams coming my way. Pierre had purchased my book at the show last year and I hoped to ask him how he had enjoyed it.

Thankfully, he did stop by to say hello and immediately reminded me of his earlier purchase. I nodded and said, “Oh yes, I remember…you’re Pierre.”

Delighted and quite surprised that I knew him, his face lit up and he gushed, “Yes, yes, thank you…thank you madam, you remember me.”

“Of course I remember you,” I assured him. How does one not remember a perfectly lovely Frenchman from Mexico? (And yes, Pierre told me that he loved my book…again, how cool is that?)

My day continued on in this vein—marvelous meetings with established customers alternating with sales to new ones…Barney Suzuki bought my book, as did Fred Janusek. Dennis Cullinan stopped by to tell me how much he enjoyed Back From The Ashes, as did Jan Andersson, Secretary of the Pipe Club of Sweden. Two gentlemen from Spain, Miquel and Ignacio, purchased it as did Jim McFadden, Archivist of the John Hollingsworth Pipe Club of Birmingham, England. Quinton Wells, pipe carver and President of the Greater Kansas City Pipe Club had the table right behind me and during a short lull he leaned back to tell me that he had meant to get my book some time ago…so with the show presenting the perfect opportunity, he decided to get it from me right then. I also very much enjoyed meeting and chatting with Cindy and Tad Gage of the CPCC and with Craig Norris of the Richmond CORPS. Finally, one of my favorite customers from last year’s show came by, a kindly gent named Irving. While we chatted, I recalled how my eyes had misted a year earlier when he had told me that he had smoked Falcons for many years—and moreover, that his Falcon had brought him great comfort as a young man in Viet Nam.

In the end, I heard not one complaint on the last-minute prohibition on smoking inside the Mega-Center. Further, I sold eighteen books on the day—not bad for just six hours time. Curiously, though, I sold only one Falcon pipe. Trying to figure out what might have happened there, I thought about it later and then made a quick note to self: Next time, do not set up shop next to Mr. Fantastic Danish Pipe-Maker Guy...truly, the stunningly beautiful freehand briars offered on the display table next to mine could have practically put an eye out…and I decided that they must have simply overshadowed my poor Falcons. (Peter Heding, the Danish pipe maker in question and a very nice young fellow, is probably still wiping the drool and fingerprints off whatever pipes he did not manage to sell at the show...)

Finally, though I did not make all that much money that day, I walked out of the Mega-Center feeling like a million bucks—there is simply no substitute for having the chance to come out and meet face-to-face with such great pipe enthusiasts, wonderful and gracious gentlemen all.