I've been following this thread and there are such neat stories on this. So i'll add in the smoking memories from my youth. Unfortunately, in my family, I cannot recall anyone smoking a pipe.
My grandfather on mothers side was a big cigar smoker. A big tall man who worked until his 80's, I looked up to him as a kid. He smoked a box of 25 cigars each and every day. The cigars he smoked, being in Belgium, was Corps Diplomatique Senator. I did a little research on them and they are indeed a cigar for the Belgian Market with this description:
A 5 inch cigar with a cepo of 41 mm, made of Cuban, Brazilian and Java filler, a Java Besuki binder and Deli-Sumatra wrapper.
Not being a cigar smoker... sounds Chinese to me ;-)
But the guy smoked this all the time and after his workdays would come by the house for a glass of Asbach Uralt, a German Brandy. As kids, my brother and I would argue on who got to pour the glass and hold the lighter so he could light his cigar. Great man who took care of his younger brother when they both got orphaned during WW1. Lots of stories to tell about him and WW2. He had an absolutely great work ethic.
My grandfather on dad's side passed away when I was very little. Four years in the trenches in WW1 and some POW duty in WW2 just wrecked him. So no memories to speak of on that side.
My dad smoked cigarettes. Never saw him smoke anything else. A patient, kind and soft spoken man whom I rarely saw angry. But passed away at a way too early age. I most likely picked up the cigarette smoking from him. He didn't mind, so by the time I was 16, I was smoking full-time around the house. He'd offer me his pack, I'd offer him mine. A good man who died way too young.
The only pipe smoker I can recall from my youth was a neighbor across the street who I would watch as he was puffing on his pipe while mowing or doing yard work. I would sit on his fence and watch him, fascinated by the different smell of his pipe compared to my dad's cigarettes or my grandpa's cigars. I recall he always had a straight black rusticated billiard clenched between his teeth. Never figured out what pipe it was or what tobacco he smoked. But it smelled sweet, a little vanilla like. He was a friendly man all right.
Fun memories... thanks for this post so I could relive some of them.