Here are the two Brighams that I own.
Ah, James! The man with the
Algonquin Rhoddy and the
Klondike Bully Brigham pipes bringing the current headcount in the clubhouse up to 10.
And, speaking of Klondike...
This always reminds me of my lumberjack days in the Klondike region of the
Yukon territory in northwest
Canada; at the time when The North Woods Lumber Company had fallen behind in their log deliveries.
So, they called on me.
I went to work immediately with my double-blade ax in hand; and, in no time, I was getting them back on schedule. However, my individual output was so rapid, continious, and voluminous, that a dangerously massive log-jam -
the likes and size of which no Canadian man, woman, or child had ever seen - had formed right at the point where the Klondike River enters the
Yukon River - being just to the east of
Dawson City; and the raging floodwaters therefrom, were threatening to overflow the riverbanks and swiftly destroy that historical city, which was a base-camp during the Gold Rush of 1896 - 1899.
I rushed to the scene.
I ordered the townspeople to be immediately evacuated; while all my co-works from the lumber company fled in terror for their lives.
Then, having made sure I was completely alone, I whipped out a bundle of some twenty sticks of dynamite, and lit the fuse. Suddenly, a heavy log rolled down and caught my foot. I couldn't move. With the fuse of the dynamite rapidly growing shorter, and no other human in the area to help free me, I was doomed.
Thinking quickly, since my hands were free, I quickly built around myself, a sturdy log cabin.
The massive blast from the dynamite explosion broke up the monumental log-jam completely; but, my log cabin protected me. It gently floated to shore, where the cheering men freed my trapped foot.
To show his appreciation, Roy Brigham, himself -
who just happened to be on the local scene at time, taking out-of-town relatives to the Dawson City Historical Museum, in Klondike - presented me with a hand-carved pipe he had quickly fashioned from a jagged piece of the flying timber; which had only missed delivering him a fatal impaling blow by the merest of inches.
I immediately filled the rough and jagged Presentation Trophy Pipe with Middleton's
Prince Albert pipe tobacco, and set the bowl alight.
Because it was my calm demeanor in the face of danger, quick thinking, and my free hands which saved me and Klondike from certain horrific disaster while my foot was hopelessly trapped, I dubbed this new pipe shape:
The Freehand Model.
And, so it came to be known.
-
Sherm Natman
