I’m not sure what sparked this train, but a while ago I was thinking about drinking glasses. When I had the mumps as a child, my mother pampered me and let me use the blue Depression Glass set – small pitcher and glass on a tray. Somehow I broke the glass and have not been able to find a replacement. Many years later I found out all the Depression Glass I now have inherited is not what I thought. It’s actually the original glass that Depression Glass was designed after and placed in large laundry soap boxes. Not disappointed though, for I love the blue, green, and pink glass items I have.
Our second UMC appointment was in Lucedale, MS. We enjoyed visiting our members, learning their country ways. One summer afternoon Bill and I visited Joyce and sat outside while she went for a pitcher of cold water. She handed me a glass and filled it. I took my time drinking but noticed she was standing nearby and had not served Bill. She was waiting for me to finish so she could pour his drink into the same glass. Perhaps knowing that I grew up in the city will help you understand my surprise at this style of hospitality. Joyce became a dear friend, and even after we left that circuit, she would write a note in her Christmas card and include one or two dollars.
My mother’s father worked at the Crichton Ice and Fuel Company in Mobile, AL. Their slogan: “Keep cool in summer; warm in winter.” For advertisement the company distributed small drinking glasses etched with “Ice – Coal – Wood,” and we liked to read it thus: “ice cold wood.” These days we buy ice in bags for ice-chests; but in my grandfather’s day they sold blocks of ice for the ice box, the forerunner of the refrigerator (for you young readers). For perhaps ten years after my parents married, they owned an ice box and had ice delivered to the house. My mother must have thought having an electric refrigerator would dishonor her dad, even though he had died when she was a teenager. Anyway, those in our family who have one of those small glasses consider them a treasure.
Ann Coker 