A Brief History of Beer’s Important (and Complicated) Place in America

Although this country was founded on beer, we’ve had a complicated relationship with it from day one.

When I say America was founded on beer, that’s not as much of a hyperbole as you might think. William Bradford, a settler who sailed over on the Mayflower, wrote in his diary in 1622 that the decision to land at Plymouth, despite an original plan to continue farther south, was made due to a supply problem.

“We could not now take time for further search or consideration, our victuals being much spent, especially our beer,” he wrote. And so the hearty souls disembarked and got down to the business of brewing . . . and forging a new settlement.

This is nothing new for beer. Historians tell us that as far back as 15,000 BCE, in China and the Middle East, nomadic tribes began to settle only when the wild grasses they grew became permanent crops, allowing them a stable place to grow, harvest, and live. Al- though the results were quite different from the beers we’d know today, when those newly cultivated grains were mixed with water and then attracted the natural yeast in the air, the result was a grain-based alcoholic beverage. Many of the original brewers believed that the ensuing intoxication was the work of the gods, specifically in Sumeria, where the brewing goddess, Ninkasi, was routinely and rightly praised. Access to the drink (along with a geography that regularly provided food) helped form some of the world’s first settlements.

From these humble origins we can quickly jump ahead through time, through the rise and fall of civilizations, past where ingredients like hops were discovered and became part of beer, where recipes were developed, where brewing became a profession and beer a national identity, and finally arrive back in the United States. During the American Revolution, the founders of the country regularly met in taverns to drink cider and ale as they planned to rebel against the monarchy and create the United States as we know it today.

Many of those revolutionaries are often cited as brewers. George Washington’s porter recipe is kept in the New York Public Library. Beer was regularly made at Monticello, Thomas Jefferson’s home. In truth, though, as with so many household chores, it was the women—or the slaves—of the house who were responsible for making beer. As much fun as it’d be to think of the Founding Fathers standing around the garage on a weekend, sleeves rolled up, brew kettle going strong, fife music chirping in the background, it’s simply not the case. That said, by both brewing beer and drinking it, the Founding Fathers and other revolutionaries sewed the importance of beer into our country’s fabric.

A quick diversion: that quote you hear attributed to Benjamin Franklin, the one plastered on countless T-shirts, pint glasses, and posters hanging in breweries? “Beer is proof that God loves us and wants us to be happy”? He didn’t say it. At least not like that. The written quote was originally about rain, how it nourishes vines and gives us wine, not beer. But despite this myth regularly being de- bunked by historians (along with so many of his other quotes), and me writing it here, I don’t expect it to go away anytime soon. Plus, who among us hasn’t been misquoted after a few rounds?

As America became a country of immigrants, many of those who came through Ellis Island sought a new life using their skills from the homeland, naturally. Farmers took to the fields, carpenters built, bakers baked. And brewers, of course, brewed.

Wherever people lived there were breweries, especially in river cities—Brooklyn, Paterson, Newark, Philadelphia, Boston, Chicago, St. Louis. The majority of these breweries were local. Transportation being what it was, citizens weren’t able to travel far for what they needed. So, if you lived within, say, ten blocks of a brewery, that would be your brewery. If you were eleven blocks away, there’d likely be one closer, and you’d frequent that one instead.

As on so many fronts, America has always had a complicated relationship with alcohol. When Prohibition hit in 1920, the anti- alcohol and pro-Puritan sentiment had been building for decades. We know, of course, that booze didn’t fully disappear. And from its being pushed underground, we are left with enduring images of the Fitzgerald speakeasy era. However, the alcohol industry as a whole was largely decimated, especially hop crops and cider.

Roughly forty-eight hundred breweries were operating in the country when Prohibition began. Thirteen years later, when it was repealed through the passage of the Twenty-First Amendment, that number was down to only a few hundred. From there things got worse for consumers. Big brewers became bigger, either absorbing competitors or eliminating them outright through sales or better recognition. By the 1970s the number had bottomed out at fifty or so.

If you were to draw a line from the craft-beer industry in America today back to its beginning, that line, despite any sharp turns, dips, and rises, would lead directly to the New Albion Brewing Company, which was founded in 1976 and in a relatively short period changed the course of brewing in this country, and therefore worldwide, reviving a once-proud tradition that had sadly fallen into obscurity.

The late 1970s were an interesting time for beer. Homebrewing had become legal again, thanks to a law signed by Jimmy Carter in 1978 that removed the tax on beer made at home for personal use. It was one of the last provisions on the federal level left over from

Prohibition. In garages, basements, and backyards across America, creative souls fired up burners and began mixing ingredients from recipes that had been mostly abandoned by large brewing companies, which had chosen to focus on mass-produced lagers.

These homebrewers tried their hands at saison, porter, and barleywine, bringing long-lost flavors back to enthusiasts and those looking for something more than the generic, one-size-fits-all lagers that dominated American shelves and taps. Change, however, was starting to creep in, both domestically and internationally. Imported lagers—which stood out thanks to their unusual green bottles in a sea of brown—and other specialty beers brewed overseas were beginning to make shy appearances in American stores.

As schoolchildren we sang about the “amber waves of grain” right alongside our nation’s “purple-mountain majesties” and “fruited plains.” The United States grows tens of millions of bushels of grain per year, according to the Department of Agriculture, the majority of which goes to food production, livestock feed, and other purposes. But some (a smaller percentage than you might think) gets turned into beer. That pint of pale ale is downright patriotic.

Now, after a rocket-like ride to this moment in time, it’s hard to ignore the endless waves of beer—both good and bad—that shape the everyday drinking experience for tried-and-true fans, as well as for folks slowly coming around to the taste of beer. Nearly nine thousand breweries currently operate in America. A few are probably located in your neighborhood. More are on the way.