The Choice of a New Generation

CBN.com - “But this building has such a heritage; they just can’t tear it down,” pleaded John.

“I know, it is hard to believe they would do such a thing but I guess all good things must come to pass,” replied an elderly store clerk, with a hint of sadness in his voice.

My dear old friend John and I stood by helplessly as we listened to “Sam”, a handlebar mustached octogenarian speak freely of the glory years of the hallowed ground we were standing on. For you see, Sam was one of the last employees of a soon to be torn down national landmark on the corner of Middle Street and Church Alley in New Bern, North Carolina.

Having shed our cumbersome backpacks and water purification systems of the last two summers, my former hiking partner and I were on a five day road trip through the Coastal Carolinas in a shimmering candy apple red convertible. While many of our family and friends hypothesized that John and I were going through some sort of mid-life crisis, our intent was to just get out on the great American highway and absorb as many offbeat roadside attractions as we could.

The trip we had dubbed the “Island Time Tour”, due to our plan to visit as many of the idyllic, windswept islands dotting the coast as we could, had brought us to New Bern, a sleepy little berg slightly inland from the well traveled tourist hotspots found on the Outer Banks.

We had deviated slightly from our coastal itinerary to explore the local invention that gave its name to a new generation and indirectly caused pop icon Michael Jackson’s hair to burst into flames twenty years ago. For you see, New Bern, North Carolina is the birthplace of Pepsi Cola.

Not quite sure where it was located, we parked our car on a side street near the center of town. Admittedly it was an aimless search but we figured where else would a young pharmacist named Caleb Bradham begin experimenting with a variety of concoctions, one of which would become the original recipe for Pepsi Cola. The center of town of course.

As we rounded the very first corner of our adventure, lo and behold, was a sign stenciled on a storefront window that said, “New Bern, North Carolina – Birthplace of Pepsi Cola.”

“This is it,” I announced with a great deal of satisfaction.

“That’s it?” quizzed John. “It looks kind of rundown.”

“I only know what the sign says and it says that this is the birthplace of Pepsi,” I crowed.

With a sense of high anticipation we entered what apparently had been an old drugstore back in ol’ Caleb Bradham’s day. But there was only one problem. It was now a dilapidated and badly cluttered indoor flea market. Adding further mystery, two life sized plaster replicas of Star Wars characters Yoda and Luke Skywalker greeted us at the door.

“What are these doing here,” wondered John aloud.

“Must be leftovers from some Pepsi promotion for the movie,” I replied.

John nodded in agreement. The familiar sight of red, white, and blue soon caught my eye as I pointed to a dusty corner of the store. Sure enough, an entire section was devoted to all things Pepsi. Vintage Pepsi bottles, Pepsi toys, inflatable Pepsi cans, Pepsi clocks, even a Pepsi toilet seat cover. We looked on in a sort of wide-eyed pop cultured reverence. It was the same type of feeling one might have if they were standing on the very spot where the first person ever used a hula-hoop.

“Pepsi should be ashamed of themselves,” bellowed John, obviously shocked by such a shoddy display. “There isn’t even a plaque to say that the first bottle was mixed on this spot. Coca-Cola has an entire museum in Atlanta. Pepsi has … a toilet seat cover.”

I just shrugged my shoulders.

The remainder of the store was a hodge podge of … junk. There is no better way to describe it. It was if the entire town had decided to clean out their attics and put it up for sale in this store. I silently wondered if this was the town’s way of getting back at Pepsi Cola for moving their operations out of New Bern in 1923.

As we were preparing to go to the check out area (John had found a couple of musty books to buy), we spied a sign handwritten in magic marker that said the store would be closing for good in early September due to its impending demolition by a local church.

“A local church!” I shouted, as I read over John’s shoulder. “What kind of a church would tear down the birthplace of an American icon?”

“Maybe they are upset that Britney Spears is their new spokesperson,” John pondered aloud.

“You don’t tear it down because of Britney Spears!”

“Are you boys all set?” asked an elderly store clerk. His name was Sam.

“Yes we are,” replied John, stepping up to the cash register. “Hey, we just read your sign about this building being torn down. That is awful.”

“A disgrace,” I interjected. “And to think a church would do such a thing.”

“Oh, we will be ok,” said Sam. “They gave us enough time to find a place to move. We are going out on Route 17.”

“Are you taking all of the Pepsi memorabilia with you?” asked John.

“Of course, that is part of who we are,” said Sam.

We completed our conversation with the aforementioned sentiments found at the beginning of this story.

As we walked down the street and away from the doomed birthplace of Pepsi Cola our emotions traveled a wide gamut, from anger to sadness and eventually back to anger. At one point I thought I might shed a tear. Finally, we decided that something had to be done to save the birthplace of an American treasure.

“We could start a letter writing campaign,” John suggested.

“Not enough time,” I countered. “I think we should go over to that church and ring up the pastor right now. As two red-blooded Americans who love soft drinks, tell him how we really feel. Better yet, let’s take Sam with us.”

“I think a letter writing campaign might be a little more civilized,” John said.

We must have paced up and down that street for twenty minutes trying to figure out why the modern day soft drink giant would allow such a thing, and secondly, why didn’t the town of New Bern have more pride in their greatest claim to fame?

We soon had our answer. When we came to the end of the street where the tired and worn birthplace of Pepsi was located, we crossed over to the other side to make our journey back to the car. We peeked in many of the store windows along our route to see what the local merchants had to offer. As we came to the very last one, we were transfixed by the painted sign on the door. It said, “The Official Birthplace of Pepsi Cola, Store and Museum”.

Blasphemy! The real birthplace of Pepsi was to be torn down in a few short weeks by a local church and there was nothing that Sam and his colleagues could do to save it. They were resigned to move to another part of town, Pepsi memorabilia in tow. Now this place on the same street was trying to capitilize on their neighbors misfortune. How could this be?

There was only one way to find out. Upon entering this vastly cleaner and much more official looking edifice we asked a very friendly soda jerk (yes, a soda jerk) who was telling the truth. She casually explained that the sign on the indoor flea market only said that New Bern was the birthplace of Pepsi Cola not the “official” birthplace. Contrary to our previous belief, we were now standing on the hallowed ground of Caleb Bradham. Chuckling, she noted what a difference a single word could make.

She was absolutely right. One word can make a world of difference in a variety of situations. Building upon that thought, have you ever considered how a single conversation can set the tone for your day, week, and in some cases months filled with heartache, anger, or fear? Why do we allow such things to happen?

In the hours that followed our Pepsi experience, I was playfully reminded by John how one word had altered our entire perception of a church, town, and major corporation. We had a good laugh about our misunderstanding but it spoke volumes about the frailty of our human existence. Often in our willingness to correct what we believe to be a wrongful situation, we allow our sinful nature to take over.

That is a troubling concept to me. As Christians, even though we should be a good example to others, we often allow our decisions, not His, dictate our actions.

In

, the Old Testament prophet says, “Oh Lord, I know the way of a man is not in himself; It is not in man who walks to direct his own steps.”

If we base our decisions and hopes on anything else but God, we will often lead ourselves down a path of dissatisfaction.

With our minds we explore our options, evaluate our preferences, seek advice, and consider the consequences of our decisions. However, if we will accept the Lord’s leading, He will direct our steps and make our pathway of choice abundantly clear.

One word can change our entire perception of a situation, sometimes for the better, often for the worse. One God in three persons will direct our steps in the way we should go.

Information contained within this article from the Transformer Study Bible.

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