Thirty years ago last week, as kids faced the sober reality that their Star Wars summer of '77 was coming to an end and a new school year was about to begin, an item appeared on drugstore shelves that offered a glimmer of hope for those still lost in that galaxy far, far away. On August 15, 1977, the very first Star Wars lunchboxes were made available to kids desperate to keep the Star Wars experience alive throughout the school year.

King-Seeley Thermos of Norwich, Connecticut, who launched into the lunchbox business with a snappy four-color number of cowboy star Roy Rogers in the early '50s, was looking to out-do their best seller of early '77, a lunchbox based on the Happy Days TV show. TV properties had proven a safer prospect than films in those days, since a TV show could last several seasons compared to the few months (or weeks) a movie might be in theaters. KST had recently fumbled with a lunchbox based on the 1976 remake of King Kong, and were understandably timid about approaching another film property.

But in February of 1977, the company received one of the lavishly-illustrated Star Wars promotional books sent to all prospective licensees, featuring the epic characters, dazzling effects, and exotic locales of what was being called a "space fantasy". It caught the attention of KST's marketing executives, who placed it in their "tentative file".

But when KST learned that their prime lunchbox competitor, Nashville's Aladdin Industries, was showing interest in the property, they were quick to act. They sent a representative with a contract and check in hand to meet with Twentieth Century Fox (the licensor at the time) to close the deal on the spot. The price for the license was allegedly among the highest paid by the company at the time.

Timing was everything. KST had the foresight to launch their Star Wars lunchbox six months ahead of schedule -- it was originally slated for Spring '78 -- putting them in kids' hands before any other real merchandising for Star Wars had taken place, save for the random poster, button, or pendant.

The gamble paid off -- by 1978, KST reported their Star Wars line had been their best selling ever -- and was still proving a strong contender a year later. While kids had started moving away from Fonzie to properties like the Bee Gees, Muppets, and Mork and Mindy, Star Wars was still being snatched up faster than chocolate milk on fish stick day. KST even enhanced their Star Wars model (illustrated by artist Don Henry) with added graphics for the lunchbox's side panels, which originally had depicted simple star-filled space.

Emerging from the merchandising maelstrom of 1978 was an elusive prototype R2-D2 vinyl lunch kit produced by KST, and the few salesman samples that survive have become holy grail collectibles for more than a few Star Wars and lunchbox aficionados. Sporting a zipper closure, strap handle, and plastic dome top with soft vinyl body in the form of R2-D2, the reason for its stalled production is vague, but was probably due to the fragile vinyl hinge created when the kit's dome was folded back. It was an ambitious design for KST, and speaks to the staying power of the Star Wars brand even a year after its release.

For '78 and '79, two more Star Wars lunchboxes were released by KST, both plastic, with one that could be customized with a sheet of adhesive stickers. Thermos in Canada also jumped on the Star Wars bandwagon with two lunchboxes of their own, both made of orange plastic and depicting scenes of droids or starships.

In the years that followed, KST produced lunchboxes for The Empire Strikes Back and Return of the Jedi, and even the Ewoks and Droids TV series of the mid-80s. Thermos dropped out of Star Wars in the years between the sequels and prequels, and even allowed the lunchbox rights to go to another licensee for The Phantom Menace. KST returned to the saga with Attack of the Clones, however, offering a metal lunchbox and several plastic models. A soft vinyl and a plastic model were produced for Revenge of the Sith.

It's the first metal Star Wars lunchbox with X-wing graphics on one side and a landspeeder on the other, however, that seems to hold the most appeal for old-school fans and collectors. It was cool, practical, and built to last -- all that, and a bag of chips. If kids knew what a mint example might fetch 30 years later ($100 ), a few might have brown-bagged it to school more often.