“Share Your Favorite Licorice Memory”
Contest Winners
| MARCH 2008 WINNER
Submitted by Gail Hickey, Bayville, NJ
The funniest memory of licorice is when I was six or seven years old. I would take the black licorice stick and bite both ends off to use as a straw in my milk. My older sister was repulsed by this. She would carry on and tell me I was going to get sick.
One day an ambulance pulled up at the house across the street and took a young boy to the hospital. This caused a commotion in the neighborhood as everyone came out to gawk. “What happened to Jimmy?” I asked my older sister. “He drank his milk with his licorice and his appendix exploded,” she told me.
I immediately spilled out my milk and never drank it with my licorice again. It was only a few years ago that I remembered this childhood memory. I immediately called my sister to tell her what a witch she was!
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FEBRUARY 2008 WINNER
Submitted by Laura Emerson, Biloxi, MS
I was a nurse in Vietnam, 18 years old, and it was my first time away from home. Everyone knew my sweet tooth was all about licorice as my parents would send me care packages filled with it. Unbeknownst to me, my fellow nurses had been sneaking into each box and putting away a little bit at a time. When my birthday came I was homesick and had not received a care package that day. I returned to our bunker after a 16-hour day and there was a "log cabin, made out of licorice!" They had painstakingly used their free time to make it for me. I will never forget that feeling I had that day and all the hard work my fellow nurses had put into making it such a memorable and special birthday for me. No other birthday in my 54 years has ever been that special.
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Submitted by Elaine Bloom, Maplewood, NJ
 I remember my first experience with Pontefract Licorice Cakes. We were “down the shore” on the boardwalk where they had some games of chance. One was a spinning wheel where you picked a number. Unbelievably my number won.
I was told to pick any prize in the booth. I was fascinated by a green tin box that obviously contained something wonderful. It was the first time I had Pontefract Cakes. I was about 8 and thought everything about them was magical. The way I got them, the lovely box and the castle stamped onto the cakes. Most importantly, they tasted terrific. A deep licorice flavor in a chewy cake that took some time to eat so you could savor the goodness.
The box must have gotten lost in the course of various moves but I still think about it and how glad I am that I picked that prize.
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Submitted by Taneil Specht, Lincoln, Nebraska
 Summer sun warm on our skin we lie back, watching the clouds chase across the indigo sky. Low thundering sounds in the distance start giggles in our tummies. Jumping to our feet, we run to the sidewalk, craning our necks to be the first one to him.
Grandpa Wells is rolling down our street astride his Harley Davidson, the deep noise of the engine drowning our screams of delight and laughter. Rumbling to a stop by our mailbox, he opens arms for one of us to climb aboard. I reach him first and he places me securely in front of him, opening the white leather glove box just below the windshield. I reach eagerly in and pull out a fist full of thick black licorice sticks. Soft and chewy, bitter and sweet, the good kind that hints of green on the inside. I snuggle back ready for an unforgettable ride.
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Submitted by Debi Allen, Phela, CA
have loved licorice since before I can remember.
There was a small candy shop at the end of our block filled with barrels of "penny" candy. I had no money so I decided I would make it.
I got a mason jar and started to fill it with sow bugs. I tipped over every one of my mother's flower pots, and gathered all I could find. Then I went door to door selling them to the neighbors for a penny a bug. In no time I had many pennies and ran down to the candy shop. I was rich!
I think the licorice tasted especially good that day as I had worked for the money to buy it. Every time I have licorice, I think of the kindness of our neighbors who probably had plenty of their own sow bugs.
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OCTOBER 2007 WINNER
Submitted by Birdie Casement, Denver, Colorado
WHICH CAME FIRST . . . Licorice or my mother? Nostalgically, it seems they came “HAND IN HAND,” extended for sharing.
Becoming verbal and perhaps GLUTTONish, I observed my licorice stick being halved. “THIS PIECE IS SO SHORT,” I complained.
Mamma’s eyebrows lifted: “YOU WANT LONG?” I nodded, expectantly.
Without ado, Mamma produced shears and snipped a licorice, right down the middle . . . LENGTHWISE. Mamma would NOT be outsmarted.
 With allowances still unborn, parking lots and store floors occasionally yielded “PENNIES FROM HEAVEN” (Destination: l-i-c-o-r-c-e). I also earned pennies brushing Mamma’s hair, searching for “cooties”. BRUSH, brush, brush . . . NO cooties. I ALWAYS received a penny for TRYING.
My “fortune” vanished in DOHR’s CANDIES. Dashing home, I clutched the licorice that hopefully would suffice . . . awaiting Mamma’s next “COOTIE-cutie,” bonanza bash.
A Great Team: What “diff” who was first?
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Submitted by David LaPlante, Hartford, Wisconsin
Kids can give new meaning to almost everything. Their minds just work that way. As children, we loved to get a large bag of the string-size licorice cords. Pulling them apart, we would carefully tie them together, one after another. This was a difficult task, since licorice does not tie nearly as easily as real string. Foot after foot, yard after yard, we added to the growing length of licorice. How long could we make it? Sometimes it reached from the hallway to the back door. Sometimes we could get from one side of the living room to the other or even up and down the basement stairs. The final question, however, was, “How long will it take us to eat our lengthy creation.” The answer was always the same, “not very long.”
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Submitted by Leila Kayser, Riverview, Florida
 My parents met over licorice. My mother went to her sister's to help her sister while having a baby . . . in the 1940's. My aunt (the pregnant one) was craving licorice, so my mom went down to the candy store and bought her a bag of licorice. My dad was hanging outside with his buddies and asked her what was in the bag. She ignored him, and in his goofy way to flirt with her, took her bag of licorice from her. She started crying and went to my aunt's house and told my aunt and uncle what happened. My uncle went after the supposed hoodlum who stole her licorice. My dad apologized profusely saying he was only trying to flirt with her. My uncle told him to stay away from my mom, but he persisted, and the rest is history. They were married and here I am.
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JULY 2007 WINNER
Submitted by Rush Miller, Zephyrhills, Florida
I had  been in Vietnam for awhile. I was missing everything from my family to hot showers. One day I wandered into a PX. Somehow they had gotten some stateside candy. Calling my name was a package of licorice. Something else I missed. Bought some. Sat down. Took a bite. Memories came flooding back. The Lollipop, a childhood store. Mr. Delahante, the owner, keeping a watchful eye on us as we surveyed the candy counter and picked out our weekly ration. Then I thought of the Duncan Yo-Yo man who held contests in front of the store. Who could make a living as a yo-yo man today? Memories kept coming. What a piece of licorice! Today my Sunday school class sends cookies to the servicemen in Iraq. I’m sure they appreciate the thoughts and prayers.But I wonder if a simple piece of licorice is what one of them needs.
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JUNE 2007 WINNER
Submitted by Vicki Hauser, Overland Park, Kansas
While in college, a friend and I decided to take a trip off campus to stock up on our favorite goodies, licorice being one of the top favorites. After shopping, we headed to a restaurant to sort through our goodies and enjoy a spot of tea. As we were talking, two rather obnoxious men sat down at a nearby table and started trying to make conversation and flirt with us. We would not give them the time of day and they continued to harass us, so being the resourceful coeds that we were, we reached into our bag of black licorice and placed them strategically in our mouths over a couple of front teeth. We then turned around and gave them a big smile, showing our "toothless" grin. Needless to say, they didn't bother us anymore and we just chomped down on the impacted licorice and enjoyed a good laugh!!!
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MAY 2007 WINNER
Submitted by Clancy Quigley, Fort Wayne, Indiana
Have you ever wished you could reach into a barrel of licorice and keep all you could pull out? Well I lived that dream and remember it with fondness.
 I loved licorice and at age 76 I still do. When I was a little girl we lived a few blocks from a licorice factory in Dubuque, Iowa. We could smell it cooking. My brothers and I would go there in the early evening (with permission I think) and enter through a side door (again with permission I think). We would hold one brother by his feet and he would go into the barrel head first and gather up the scraps and pieces of licorice that fell off the production line. We would fill our pockets and scoot out the door. My favorite was the solid pipes. We had such fun.
My favorite now is tire treads. Thank you.
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APRIL 2007 WINNER
Submitted by Betty Brust, Lebanon, Oregon
My grandfather and I was setting under a tree in the hills of Arkansas. He broke the licorice in half and we smelled the wonderful smell. He said keep it in a safe place. Any time you need me, close you eyes and bring back the smell. You will know that even if I am gone, you will feel my love. The smell is a way of knowing I am right beside you with my arm around you. It will bring you back to this time and place of your first taste of licorice. The smell and taste is of love at work. Today, I can close my eyes and taste and smell the licorice and remember the good times I had with my granddad. After we ate it, he said, “Honey, it also kills worms.” It is one of my best memories of childhood. Laughter, love and licorice.
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