Lessons From a Jar of Sanka

Not long ago, I stopped at an independent grocery store in Hope, Arkansas. I enjoy visiting

stores like these because they often carry products the big chains don't. As I walked the aisles, I couldn't help but notice a few burned-out fluorescent lights, stained ceiling tiles, and shelves that looked a little emptier than they probably should have. My first thought was

that I had stumbled into another example of the Broken Windows Theory of Marketing, a concept I've written about before. I expected to leave with another story about appearances, maintenance, and first impressions.

Then I turned down the coffee aisle.

Sitting quietly on the shelf was a jar of Sanka. I actually stopped walking.

"They still make Sanka?" I thought. Without really planning to, I picked up the jar and dropped it into my shopping cart.

Now here's the strange part. No one in my family ever drank Sanka. I don't remember ever buying it. I wasn't looking for decaffeinated coffee that day. Yet somehow I recognized the name immediately. Not only did I recognize it, but I trusted it enough to buy it without giving the purchase much thought. That sale didn't begin in Hope, Arkansas. It began nearly forty years ago during a episode of some soap opera.

Growing up, Sanka commercials were everywhere. Even if you never drank the coffee, you knew the brand. Restaurants served decaf in orange coffee pots, a tradition Sanka helped popularize. The orange pot became so recognizable that millions of Americans learned to associate the color itself with decaffeinated coffee. That's remarkable when you think about it. Most companies hope customers remember a commercial. Sanka created a symbol that became part of everyday life.

As I drove home, I realized something interesting. I hadn't bought a jar of coffee because of anything Sanka had done recently. I bought it because of marketing someone invested in decades earlier. Television commercials, grocery store displays, restaurant coffee pots, magazine ads, and countless small reminders had quietly built recognition in my mind. Forty years later, that investment still produced a sale.

That's an incredible return on a marketing investment.

But it's also where the story takes an unexpected turn. I became curious about how Sanka is doing today. Unfortunately, companies don't usually publish detailed product sales for individual brands, so I couldn't honestly tell you whether Sanka is thriving or merely surviving. Instead, I looked for public clues. Google Trends doesn't measure sales, but it does measure search interest. Compared with several long-established coffee brands, Sanka generates very little online search activity. Likewise, today's retail presence appears much smaller than it once was. None of this proves the brand is unsuccessful. Loyal customers often buy familiar products without ever searching for them online. Still, the evidence suggests Sanka creates far less new curiosity than many competing coffee brands.

Figure 1. Google search interest for selected coffee brands. Search interest is not the same as sales, but it offers one indicator of ongoing consumer curiosity and brand discovery.

That observation led me to a realization that has nothing to do with coffee and everything to do with marketing.

Marketing has three jobs. First, it introduces your business to people who have never heard of you. Second, it reminds former customers that you're still here. Third, it reassures current customers that they made the right choice.

Sanka accomplished the second and third jobs remarkably well with me. I remembered the brand instantly, and my positive memories were enough to earn a purchase. But somewhere along the way, it appears the brand slowed its introductions to new generations. That's not necessarily a criticism. It may be a deliberate business decision. It may still have a loyal customer base that keeps it profitable. Yet for every customer like me who remembers Sanka, there are countless younger shoppers who may walk right past the jar because they've never been introduced to it in the first place. That's a lesson every local business should think about.

Many business owners tell me, "Most of my customers come from word of mouth." That's wonderful. Word of mouth is one of the strongest endorsements you can receive. But word of mouth usually works best after someone knows you exist. Before a recommendation can happen, there has to be an introduction. Marketing makes that introduction possible.

Every year, new families move into town. Young adults buy their first homes. Retirees relocate to be closer to grandchildren. New businesses open their doors. People change careers, churches, schools, doctors, accountants, mechanics, and contractors. None of these people can remember a business they've never heard of. They aren't avoiding you. They simply haven't met you yet. That's why marketing is an investment, not an expense.

The money you spend today isn't just trying to create this month's sales. It's building recognition that may pay dividends years from now. The challenge is remembering that today's investment eventually becomes yesterday's memory. If you stop introducing yourself to new people, one day you'll discover your reputation is living on borrowed time.

That jar of Sanka reminded me that marketing can have an astonishingly long life. Somewhere, decades ago, a room full of marketers approved a commercial, designed a package, chose an orange coffee pot, and launched a campaign. They had no way of knowing a guy in Arkansas would walk into a grocery store forty years later and buy their product because those memories were still sitting quietly in the back of his mind.

That's the power of good marketing. It's also the warning.

A reputation is something you inherit from yesterday's marketing. A future is something you build with today's.

At Woodruff Media, we believe every business should be speaking to three audiences at the same time: people who have never heard of you, people who forgot about you, and people who already trust you. Introduce. Remind. Reassure. Do those three things consistently, and one day your marketing may still be paying dividends long after the campaign itself has been forgotten. Update: Barry’s Grocery & Market

While researching this article, I learned that Barry’s Grocery & Market’s building collapsed in January 2026. Thankfully, no one was injured.

After 72 years in business, the store had become part of the town’s history, making the photos in this blog an unexpected record of a longtime local landmark.

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AI was used in the creation of this article for research, proofreading, idea clarity, graph development, and thumbnail design. The personal experience, opinions, conclusions, and final editorial decisions are the author's.

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