Coca Cola Stories
Coca-Cola Stories
Special Family Times:
When my sister and I were young, my grandfather owned a shop. He had an old
Coca-Cola® machine by the door. Because my sister and I were not permitted to
touch anything in the shop, my grandfather would give us a dime and say (in a very
Southern accent), "Here’s a dime for Coca-Cola." So my sister and I would sit and
drink while the men talked business. Sometimes we would make "badges" from
bottle caps by removing the cork, putting the cap on the outside of our shirts and the
cork on the inside, pushing them together. Twenty-five years after the shop closed,
my uncle stil has the machine and we have fond memories. I stil have a picture of my
grandfather behind the counter with a Coke® in front of him!
I grew up in Chicago, IL, and as a smal girl I spent my
summers with my mother at my grandparents' in a smal
Kentucky town. Needless to say, it was quite a change of
pace. I remember the highlight was that every few days,
my cousins would stop by and we would walk the two
miles -- which seemed like 10, but worth it -- down to the country store. There I would
get an ice-cold Coca-Cola from the cooler, along with some penny candy. We would
sit on the wood step in front of the store drinking our Coca-Cola, watching what little
traffic went by. Then we would start the long walk back. Thanks for the memories.
This story is about the first time my son tasted a Coca-Cola. It occurred in 1996 while
we were on foreign assignment in Vienna, Austria. My daughter, who is four years
older than my son, had never liked anything with "fizz" in it. So I made the mistake of
thinking that my son would not like the taste of Coke. Boy was I wrong. He took one
taste and his eyes got huge, his arms reached out and he said to me (in his young
English), "Daddy, MORE please!" That coupled with his expression lives on with me
today!
When I was young (in 1951-52), I would ride with my
dad in his pickup truck to the Merom Station, IN, grain
elevator. We would haul a load of corn to the elevator
and go home with a load of ground corn to use for cow
feed. The grain elevator had a 5 cent Coke bottle
dispenser. Dad would always buy me a Coke and we would sit in the shade and
talk. On one occasion, he told me the story of his first Coke. In 1911, his dad took him
into Doc Parker’s Drugstore in Merom, Indiana, and told the clerk, "Make that boy a
Coke," and the clerk produced a fizzing glass of Coke that dad remembered almost
40 years later. I remember those trips to the grain elevator and the bottle of Coke as
my special times with Dad. In a family of nine children, those were special indeed.
Thanks, Coca-Cola, for the memories!
My father was 77 years old and a proud father of 11 children. He was a gentle old
man who drank Coca-Cola since he was a young boy. In September 2003 he was
diagnosed with prostate cancer and a month later his cancer had completely
spread. On October 23, 2003 I was at the hospital by my father’s side; we laughed
Coca-Cola Stories
and he told me stories like he always did. That afternoon he was in bed; suddenly he
lifted his head from the pil ow and said, “You know what I would drink? A little Coke.”
He had been only been eating ice cubes al day. I got up and called my mother at
home and let her know that I had a special request. She laughed and said she
would come to the hospital shortly. That afternoon, my father died of heart failure.
My mother had a wake at the house in memory of my father. I purchased 24 smal
glass bottles of Coke. That night we each took a smal Coke and raised it in his
memory. That night as we sat around the kitchen table, everyone knew what my
father's last wish was and it brought a smile from everyone. My father’s greatest
pleasure was drinking his smal Coke in a glass bottle.
Each Christmas Eve my parents would put out cookies and a
bottle of Coca-Cola for Santa Claus, and the next morning the
cookies were eaten and the Coca-Cola was gone. My parents
told me that Santa must have been hungry and thirsty after
delivering so many toys, and that a Coca-Cola must have been
very refreshing to him. When my children were young, Alice and I
kept the same tradition -- only changing it by adding sugar for
the reindeer and a note of thanks from Santa for the food and ice
cold Coca-Cola. We saved one of those letters from Santa and
the family read it last Christmas to our delight. As that memory lingered, so did the
thought that Coca-Cola has often been a part of the special moments of our lives.
When I was young my grandfather would come to visit us
every year for the summer. Each day he would walk down to
the local newsstand in our smal town. The newsstand was
an old Five and Dime store that had soda fountains. Each
day this 6-foot 6-inch man would walk with short little me to
the soda fountain so he could get a newspaper. I would get
to sit on several phone books at the counter and drink an ice cold Coca-Cola in the
old cone-shaped paper cups in a stainless steel holder while Gramps checked his
stocks. Some days he would treat me to a Cherry Coke®. Each day he would point to
the KO symbol on the stock page and say to me, "Some day this little symbol wil put
you through col ege." I never understood what he meant until he passed away and
left me several hundred shares of Coca-Cola stock. My grandfather was a security
guard and did not make much money throughout his life. He had saved religiously
each week to buy a little stock at a time. This stock was worth enough to finance my
four-year col ege education. I thank Gramps every day for my education and the rich
life that I have achieved! Who knew al those years ago that a Coke® and a Smile
would make my life what it is today?
We have made Coca-Cola a family tradition by giving it to "Santa" every Christmas.
Plus, we drink it every day of the year.
Coca-Cola Stories
My best and lasting memory of Coca-Cola dates back to the late 1960s in a small
town in Indiana. I was visiting my grandfather there and he took me to an old
fashioned soda fountain for a cherry Coke®. I rarely saw my grandfather since I lived
in California - so it was a treat to be with him. Coke® was part of our visit together.
When I was 12 my dad and I got into lots of battles; sometimes we would fight for
what show to watch on the TV. We would get real y mad at each other. Then he
would leave the room and come back with a delicious ice-cold Coca-Cola. We would
drink it together and I let him watch what he wanted.
Over the summer it was a hot sunny day. My family went on a hiking trip, up a
mountain in California. My aunt didn't want to walk so instead she drove. We al
walked our way up, and we were dying of thirst; we were thirsty for ANYTHING!
When we reached the top, there was my aunt standing with bottles of Coca-Cola in
her hand, so the Coke saved the day!
When I was a little girl, my cousin and I would always ask for a Coke by spel ing "P-
O-P," so her little sister would not hear what we were saying and start crying for her
own Coke. She final y learned what P-O-P meant and we graduated to "C-O-K-E."
And then to "C-O-C-A-C-O-L-A." We had many laughs and good times over a glass
of Coke.
My grandparents started saving Coke caps in the 1950s for a
promotion. Wel , my grandmother never stopped col ecting them.
In the 80s, you could get a "Coke Is It" shirt for 200 bottle caps.
She had enough caps to get 13 shirts!! We al wore them on a
trip as a family to an amusement park, which embarrassed my
teen self at the time. But, they were true fans!
When I was young my father was
always working. In fact, when he was
home he was hidden behind the newspaper. Like a lot of
kids I didn't know a lot about him then. He was an
enigma. But one thing he loved (and still does) was
Coca-Cola classic®. He would go through cases. We
were al owed to drink it, but not if it were the last case! I
can remember trying to get to know him by bringing him a fresh glass of ice cold
Coke. He is truly your number 1 fan!
My grandparents owned a smal retail store in Villa Rica, GA. I was VERY sick one
day and had to stay out of school. My grandmother had cans of Coca-Cola stacked
by the case in the back of the store up to about 5' high. She put several blankets on
them and made a bed for me on top of the cases. Every once in a while, when I felt
thirsty, I would reach under the blankets and grab a can of Coke from my "bed of
Coke." I felt much better by the end of the day. My grandmother was pretty shocked,
though, when she found a whole six-pack gone!
Coca-Cola Stories
When you are young, the little things are so important. Every day, I hated to go to
school. So my dad made me a deal. He would pick me up after school every day
and take me out for a Coke if I would go to school without giving him problems. I
don't know if it was the Coke or being with my dad, but that was the best part of my
day and it is something I do with my son every day now.
My mom used to buy Coke only on special occasions. We were always so anxious to
have it that we'd sneak into the supply ahead of time. Although mom never got
mad, she was probably frustrated to find empty cans neatly replaced where there
used to be ful ones.
Growing up we always eagerly awaited the weekend. My
parents would make Saturday night "family" night. We would
make popcorn, and settle down in front of the -- then -- black-
and-white television. Al of that was great because we would
watch wonderful variety shows. The best part was the drink
that went along with it al -- Coke! It was our treat we looked
forward to. At that time it was a treat once a week. I'm sure my
mom had hers more often.
When I was young, we drove to North Carolina to meet my
grandparents for the very first time. We drove by her house
and she was sitting on the front porch in a rocking chair
talking to my grandpa. It was so hot and we couldn't wait
to get out of the car. My mom got out first, and my
grandparents started crying; they hadn't seen her in 10
years or ever met me. They gave us Coke to drink to cool us
off. After that, we would walk to the corner store from their place and get a dime
Coke. I'l always remember it.
When I was young and played baseball, my dad was the coach. Win, lose or draw,
after every game we had a cold Coke waiting for us. Now I coach baseball with my
own son and -- win, lose or draw -- he has cold Coke after every game too.
One of the things I remember about my childhood is drinking cold Coke in a bottle. I
lived in Israel at that time and drinking Coke was always special. My family used to
sit down every Friday night and have dinner and drink Coke.
I was fishing with my grandmother in a suburb of
Pittsburgh. I was 10 years old and excited to be out on the
lake. My Grandmom, from Europe, couldn't real y speak
English - just enough to get by. We were drinking Coke
when a fish "hit" my line. I dropped my Coke and grabbed
the pole. Then I started to cry - because I lost the fish and
my Coke! "Baba," my grandmother, without flinching, gave
me her Coke and smiled. I stopped crying and happily drank it. This continued al
day -- grabbing the pole and losing my soda -- that is until we ran out of
Coca-Cola Stories
Coca-Cola! When that time came, wel , we had enough of fishing for the day! It was
like this every time we went to Pittsburgh. Just me and my "cool" grandmother fishing
and drinking Coca-Cola. I wil never forget it.
My earliest memory of sharing a Coca-Cola is with my
grandfather when I was around 4 years old in Meadvil e,
Pa. We would go out on the farm tractor together to
"work." When we got hot, Grandpa would sit down with
me on my little picnic table and we would pass a Coke
back and forth. We continued this tradition until he
passed away when I was 21.
My sister and I are from Sweden, but when we were smal we lived in Zaire, Africa,
because our parents worked there as missionaries. Since we lived in the middle of
the jungle, there were not a lot of Swedish foods or candy, and we did not have a
supermarket or store or anything like it. But about three or four times a year, we got
special deliveries from other missionaries that had visited the capital Kinshasa.
Among the things that were delivered were a few treasured Coca-Cola bottles.
These bottles were saved for very special occasions like birthdays. Mom was the one
in charge of making sure that everyone of us got exactly to the mil imeter the same
amount of Coca-Cola. It had to be fair. In our family Coca-Cola is always served on
special occasions.
I spent every summer and Christmas with my grandparents in Prescott, Arizona.
Now, my grandfather kept a secret stash of Coca-Cola downstairs in the garage.
My sister and I would sneak down there and search, quietly as possible, through his
messy hiding place - never finding a thing. We'd sneak back upstairs and there he'd
be, with two glasses of ice and two cold Cokes. We never figured him out!
My mother made me a necklace of bottle caps for my fifth
birthday. She put felt on the rough side. It was fun to wear.
I must have been about 10 years old. I remember every
Saturday my grandfather used to get al dressed up and
go to town (that's what he used to cal it when he went
grocery shopping). This weekly tradition would always be
fol owed by him returning home with plenty of sweets and goodies to get us through
the week, but on this particular Saturday one of the goodies was Coca-Cola. After
helping to put the food away, I recall being rewarded with a bottle of Coca-Cola. I
was too weak to open it myself, so I sat on my granddaddy's lap as he watched an
old western show and he cracked open the bottle for me. I enjoyed my very first Coke
on that day. Sipping an ice-cold Coca-Cola as I watched TV along with my
granddad. I've been hooked ever since!
