Grindstone-100 year old Herf

T

tzaddi

jardinero de la selva
It was not too long ago that I was shopping for estate pipes here at my favorite antique store in Redding, CA when one of the shop keepers told me something interesting.

She mentioned that the Psychologist just across the street has a get together once a week where the guys smoke cigars, talk and have a beverage or two. She then encouraged me to "go over there" and introduce myself. Upon exiting the store I proceeded to do just that.

I found a group of about 12 men sitting out back of the old house turned office smoking and talking. As I approached my introduction came quickly asking which one of the guys was "Chet" as this was the name/password the shopkeeper had given me.

Long story short...I have been a regular attendee of the weekly Herf here in Redding. Rather than ramble on about this and that concerning the long standing history, tradition of cigars and the Grindstone Club here in Redding I offer you this link.

The Grindstone

Although by some records the word "Herf" is barely 10 years old the concept of gathering in such a manner has deep roots.

To quote this weeks Grindstone email announcement:
Logos, Philos, Arete. Greek for Reason, Friendship, and Excellence,
representing the three prime functions which have traditionally occurred at
the Grindstone: erudite discussion on the relevant issues of the time (and
of all time) amongst a brotherhood (a last bastion of manhood) of peers
enjoying some of the finer things in life.
Click to expand...

In closing I offer you this seasonal rewrite authored by Chet, a fine fellow of many talents.

'Twas the Grindstone Before Christmas
(or A Visit from Homeless St. Nick)
by Chet Sunde, Christmas 2006

'Twas the Grindstone before Christmas, when all through the house
not a creature was smoking, not even a mouse (thanks to d-con).
Each of the ashtrays had been emptied with care,
in preparation for the Grindstoners, who would soon fill each chair.

The Brethren were all still busy furthering their careers,
while thoughts of adult beverages danced between their ears.
I closed the front doors, secured the locks with a snap,
having enough time before they arrived, for a pre-Grindstone nap.

When out on the back porch arose such a noise,
I sprang from my chair, thinking, "is it already time for them boys?"
Away through the kitchen, I walked past the beer fridge,
grasped the second door knob, and opened it a smidge.

The noon sun shone bright, yet I thought it might snow,
because the breeze outside made it feel like ten below.
When, whose foul stench made my eyes water as he stood at the back door,
it was yet another homeless guy, but wait---this one carried a humidor!

I saw his worn out red suit, in his scraggly beard there was a tick,
And I knew in a instant who it must be--- Homeless St. Nick!
Into the humidor he reached, then out the cigars came,
and he whistled and shouted and called them by name:

"Now Ashton! Now Fuente!
Now, Romeo Y Julieta!
Now, Cohiba! Now, Partagas!
Now, Oliva and Fonseca!

To the Grindstone room!
Turn the exhaust fan switch on the wall!
Now smoke away! Smoke away!
Smoke away all!"

He was dressed all in fur, from his head to his foot,
and his clothes were all tarnished with ashes and soot.
There was a case or more of beer, carried in his old toy sack,
he handed me one, and opened his with a crack.

The stump of a cigar was held tight in his teeth,
and the smoke it encircled his head like a wreath.
His face was drawn taught and he had lost his big belly,
hadn't bathed in months, and was more than a little smelly.

Despite being no longer chubby, he was still a jolly old mensch,
and I laughed when I saw him, in spite of the stench.
"Ebay made me homeless, but it also set me free,
to spread the news of the Grindstone Club; the joy of cigars, and
Philosophy!"

Then I sprang to my feet, thinking that I must have been dreaming,
yet the smell of smoke lingered on, so real the vision was still seeming.
When from down the street he yelled, "Tell the Grindstoners that this is no
joke:
Merry Christmas to all, and to all a good smoke!"


A Brief Note about the original Author and the Poem:
Clement Clarke Moore's famous poem, which he named "A Visit From St.
Nicholas," was published for the first time on December 23, 1823 by a New
York newspaper, the Sentinel. Since then, the poem has been reprinted,
translated into innumerable languages and circulated throughout the world.
Click to expand...



—Richard
 
Very cool! Thanks for the link and info!:ss I'm sure this will give some guys here a few ideas.:tu
 
Just as an update for those that are interested in this 100+ old Herf.

During last Fridays session I took my camera for the first time and snapped a few of the guys that showed up that day.

Here is the link to the Gallery, just like any other get together as you can see.

http://gallery.mac.com/tzaddi#100248

A Brief History of the Grindstone

It was sometime in 1997 that I found myself perusing the antique shops north of Redding and, in Ralph Hollibaugh’s shop, I ran across two trade tokens: one read "GOLDEN EAGLE CIGAR STORE, REDDING" and the one next to it simply read "J. W. POTTS, REDDING, CAL.", with the reverse side of each indicating that they were "good for five cents in trade." Research on these tokens led to the discovery of the information which follows.

Mr. Edwin Voluntine, an early day hardware merchant at Shasta, at one time received an exceptionally large shipment of grindstones and stacked them on the sidewalk in front of his store on Main Street where he allowed them to remain for a long time. The surface of the grindstones was large and smooth and the height of the stacks just right for comfortable seats. A number of the leading citizens of Shasta appropriated the grindstones for their own use and they became a center where meetings were held. "Weighty matters were discussed and questions decided of great moment to the state and nation. There was no appeal from the decisions." This group became known as the Grindstone Board and functioned for many years. Edwin Voluntine's store closed when he died in 1890.

James Isaacs, a member of the Grindstone Board, had been an attorney in the old town of Shasta prior to relocating his office to Redding after the removal of the county seat from Shasta. The Hoff Building, East of the Golden Eagle Hotel, was used as the Shasta County Court House in 1889 and 1890 until the new courthouse on the hill was finished. The proximity of this "court house" brought customers to the cigar store.

John W. Potts and a man named Eberle started the Redding Cigar Factory in the then-new Golden Eagle building in 1888, consisting of a cigar store facing Yuba Street, and a room behind the store where cigars were rolled. Sometime between December of 1889 and April of 1893, Eberle sold out to Potts.

© 2006 - 2008C. H. Sunde, Psy.D.
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Want to read more? Go here http://grindstoneclub.com/pages/history.html


And if are ever have plans to be in Redding on a Friday send me a PM and you will be our guest at one of the oldest herfs around. :)
 
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