The first pour
A marble soda counter, five cents a glass. Nine sold a day, every day, until September.
Est. 1886 · Savannah, Georgia
Ice-cold since the horse-drawn days.
First poured May 8, 1886, at a marble counter on Bay Street. Five cents, crushed ice, a paper straw. Nine glasses a day, all summer. It still tastes like the good part of the afternoon.
The long pour
Drag the rail. Every stop is true to our story — and each one is set in the type of its own decade.
A marble soda counter, five cents a glass. Nine sold a day, every day, until September.
Two Chattanooga lawyers buy the bottling rights for one dollar. Nobody laughs for long.
A bottle you could name in the dark, by touch, or from the pieces on the floor.
A thousand crates ride a freighter to Amsterdam and sell out before the closing lap.
Jukeboxes, car hops, and the six-and-a-half-ounce serve on a window tray.
Five hundred voices, one chorus. Radio stations get letters asking to play the ad.
The first polar film airs in December. Turns out the north gets thirsty too.
The recipe fits in one vault. The taste fits 200 countries and a beach cooler.
House rule
Below 4 degrees the bubbles tighten. Above 6 the caramel goes flat and shy. Three degrees is where the snap lives.
Red Umbrella Summer ’26
June 20 to September 6. Four hundred red umbrellas on the sand, Cádiz to Cape May, each one over a cooler packed to 3°C at dawn. Look for the white wave on the canopy.
See the cooler map