Who Was John Stith Pemberton by Elizabeth Clements

Millions of people around the world may not recognize John Stith Pemberton’s name or even recognize his photograph, but they are devoted fans and consumers of his invention: Coca-Cola.

John Pemberton was born on July 8, 1831 in Knoxville, Georgia but lived most of his young life in Rome, Georgia. In 1848 he received his medical degree from the Reform Medical College of Georgia at Macon and in 1850, at the age of 19, received his pharmacist license. While there, he met Ann Eliza Clifford Lewis, a student at Wesleyan College, and they married in 1853 in Columbus, Georgia. Their only child, Charles, was born in 1854. Pemberton initially practiced medicine and surgery, but chemistry was his real interest and talent, and eventually he opened his own drug store In Columbus.

When the Civil War broke out in 1861, he enlisted in the confederate army and eventually rose to the rank of lieutenant colonel. In April, 1865, during the Battle of Columbus, he was severely wounded in the chest. During his painful recovery from a sabre wound, Pemberton became addicted to morphine. Not wanting to be dependent on the drug, he knew he had to find a morphine-free alternative cure for pain.

This led him to falling back on his chemistry background to find a non-addictive painkiller. In 1866 in his lab, he began experimenting with painkillers, plants and toxins (no doubt experimenting on himself). His first recipe was “Dr. Tuggle’s Compound Syrup of Globe Flower”, in which the active ingredient was derived from the button bush (Cephalanthus occidentalis), a toxic plant. He next began experimenting with coca and coca wines, eventually creating a recipe that contained extracts of kola nut and damiana, which he called Pemberton’s French Wine Coca.

He advertised his medicine and it sold well. Then in 1886, temperance legislation was introduced in Georgia over “public concern about drug addiction, depression and alcoholism among war veterans, and “neurasthenia” among “highly-strung” Southern women.  Pemberton’s “medicine” was advertised as particularly beneficial for “ladies” and all those whose sedentary employment causes nervous prostration,” forcing Pemberton to adjust his formula to make it non-alcoholic.”  

Forced to adjust his tonic to comply with the new regulations, Pemberton collaborated with Willis E. Venable, a drugstore owner/proprietor in Atlanta. All reference to wine was removed and a sugar syrup was substituted for the wine. Venable helped Pemberton tweak and test the formula, which contained extracts of cocaine as well as the caffeine-rich kola nut. Ironically, in one of the tests, when Pemberton wanted to make another glassful of the tonic, he accidentally added carbonated water to the base syrup. He liked the result so much that he decided to sell it as a fountain drink.

Frank Mason Robinson, Pemberton’s bookkeeper and business partner, came up with the name Coca-Cola as alliteration was quite popular in medicine wine circles. He thought using the two Cs would work well together. He also wrote the logo in beautiful Spencerian script. It was used on all the bottles and in advertisements. Pemberton made “many health claims for his product, touting it as a “valuable brain tonic” that would cure headaches, relieve exhaustion, and calm nerves, and marketed it as “delicious, refreshing, pure joy, exhilarating and invigorating.” 

On May 8,1886, confident of his invention, Pemberton took a jug of his syrup to Jacobs’ Pharmacy in downtown Atlanta. With the carbonated water added, the beverage “was sampled, pronounced “excellent” and placed on sale for five cents a glass as a soda fountain drink.”  

Sadly, Dr. Pemberton didn’t have long to benefit from his new venture. Despite all his efforts, he was never able to overcome his morphine addiction (and his many experiments on himself no doubt contributed to his illness). Sick and facing bankruptcy due to slow sales and the business initially running at a loss, he began selling off some of his rights to the formula to his Atlanta business partners. He had a vision that someday his beverage would be worth a lot and wanted to keep his remaining rights for his son’s financial security.  Charles, however, just wanted the money now, and Pemberton sold away his remaining rights to his formula to Aza G. Candler. Candler eventually bought up additional rights and gained full control of the company. (Note:  While the Coca-Cola Company denies this claim, historical evidence shows that it is likely that, until 1905, the soft drink, which was marketed as a tonic, contained extracts of cocaine as well as the caffeine-rich kola nut. While cocaine wasn't considered illegal until 1914, according to Live Science, Candler began removing cocaine from the recipe in the early 1900s, and traces of cocaine may have been present in the famous beverage until 1929 when scientists were able to perfect the removal of all psychoactive elements from the coca-leaf extract.)

On August 16, 1888, at the age of 57, Dr. Pemberton died of stomach cancer. It's interesting and gratifying to learn that on the day of his funeral there was a huge outpouring of respect for him. All the drug stores were closed in Atlanta so druggists could pay their respects. “On that day, not one drop of Coca-Cola was dispensed in the entire city.” The following day a special train carried his body to Columbus for burial. The Atlanta newspapers called him “the oldest druggist of Atlanta and one of her best-known citizens.”

Excerpt from Beneath A Fugitive Moon

“Buy you a drink, purdy lady?” Mike asked the red-haired woman in an emerald satin gown. He held his breath, never having done the asking before.

          She turned with a phony smile pasted on her painted lips. Her gaze hit his chest and travelled slowly up until she reached his face. Her eyes grew bigger, but to his amazement, her ruby mouth widened into what looked like a genuine smile.

          “Sugar, anyone who calls me a lady, let alone a pretty one gets the best.” She looked at the bartender. “Henri, your special for Samson, here. And give him an extra squirt of the syrup.”

          “Qui, Mol-lee.” Henri said in a soft southern drawl. He reached beneath the counter, removed a fancy bottle and splashed a knuckle-length of whiskey into a tall glass, then held it beneath the spigot of a three-footed urn that had some fancy red letters written across it, matching the ones on the clock. It dispensed some caramel-colored liquid. He added a shot of something that looked like water with bubbles, gave it a stir and with a flourish, set it onto the shiny mahogany counter.

          Mike glanced at Molly. “Ain’t you havin’ some?” The last thing he wanted was to wake up in an alley. That is if he woke up. He’d been in fancier saloons.

          “I’ll have mine without the whiskey, Henri.” The man took another glass and repeated the procedure, minus the alcohol.

          Mike pointed at the dispensers. “What’s the other stuff?”

          “You’re a careful one, aren’t you?” Looking him in the eye, she picked up his glass and took a drink. The barkeep handed Molly her glass and she took a healthy swallow of it, too. “Satisfied, Sugar, we’re not gonna poison you?” Heat climbed his neck. “Well, damned if you ain’t quick and bold.”

          He shook his head. Still, not knowing what to expect, he took a cautious swallow, blinked and took another. And grinned. “Hey, what’d you put into this? It don’t taste like rotgut.”

          “Coca-Cola is all the rage in Atlanta,” Henri said proudly. “Very medicinal. Mixed with carbonated water, it sells for five cents a glass. Adding whiskey is my idea.”

          Molly winked at Mike. “Henri’ misses Atlanta, so he’s trying to bring some culture to the wild west.”

          Sure his shaking hands would spill his drink, Mike tossed it back in one gulp. He needed all the courage he could get. It tasted like more. He plunked another coin onto the counter. “I’ll take another one of those.” With a swirl of his rag, Henri wiped the counter and the money disappeared with it.