The Cigar Caucus Origins

A decade ago, a group of men began gathering—not in committee rooms or campaign war rooms, but on porches, patios, and backyards. We came together for two things: a shared love of politics and the simple pleasure of a good cigar. That was our common ground. Not ideology. Not party lines. Just the smoke and the stories.

We were Republicans, Democrats, Libertarians. Conservatives, progressives, and a few who defied labels altogether. Some had run for office. Others had run from it. But once the cigars were lit, the titles faded. We became just men—fathers, friends, thinkers—bound by a ritual older than any platform: conversation around a slow-burning leaf.

The topics ranged from tax reform to SEC football, from foreign policy to the best way to light a Churchill in the wind.  And occasionally we solved the world’s problems—at least until the ashtray filled and someone had to go pick up grandkids.

Then came COVID. The world shut down, and so did our gatherings. For a moment, it felt like the end of the Cigar Caucus. But the camaraderie was too rich to let go. So we adapted. We went virtual. Humble Zoom squares replaced park benches. Lighters flickered on camera. And something unexpected happened: the group didn’t shrink—it grew.

Now, from New Hampshire to New York, from D.C. to Florida, the Cigar Caucus lives on. We’ve welcomed new voices, new perspectives, and even the occasional pipe smoker (we try not to judge). The geography expanded, but the spirit stayed the same: honest talk, shared laughter, and the kind of fellowship that doesn’t care how you voted, only that you showed up.

We still disagree—sometimes passionately. But we do it with respect, with humor, and with the understanding that friendship is stronger than faction. In a time when division is easy and outrage is currency, the Cigar Caucus remains a quiet rebellion. A place where puffing and pondering go hand in hand. Where the smoke rises, and so does the hope that civil discourse isn’t dead—it’s just enjoying a good cigar.