Beam, Straight Up

by Fred Noe

  I’ll be honest, sometimes when I’m driving down the highway in Kentucky and see one of our trucks with the name “BEAM” written on the side in big, bold letters, I get a lump in my throat, even after all these years. Pride and passion are what they call intangibles. They don’t show up in quarterly sales reports, don’t show up on any bottom line. But they’re both critical, and infectious. If you’ve got it, chances are someone else on your team will catch it, and chances are it will spread. So keep that head raised high and believe in your work—it will make a difference, maybe even a big one. I know it has for us.

  8. Quality: I told you most of these were common sense, but you’d be surprised how many companies don’t put an emphasis on this, especially nowadays in our “I want it now” culture, when speed and instant gratification are important. There’s always a temptation to cut corners, to find ways to water something down to make it cheaper, or to revise the process that has worked for you to make it a little faster. We’re a centuries-old company and we’ve lasted because we’ve always resisted those temptations. To be sure now, we’ve innovated, we’ve added technology, updated things. We don’t make whiskey like they did 100 years ago. But we’ve never skimped on the quality. We know what’s important, that what’s inside the bottle is what matters.

  There have been times when we could have rushed things. A few years back we basically ran out of Knob Creek, one of our Small Batch Bourbons and a big-time seller. Aged nine years at 100 proof. We could have made adjustments, mixed some of our remaining stock with our whiskies, stretched things, or bottled some younger whiskey, but we didn’t. The result was a shortage in the marketplace that probably cost us some money, but we didn’t rush the process or the whiskey. When it was ready, we got it back out there. Doing anything else would have compromised our quality. That’s not something we do here. And you shouldn’t either.

  9. Know your customers: One more common sense point, but it’s important: the customer is king. Repeat after me. There’s no reason to go into business if you don’t have consumers who will buy what you’re selling, so you’ve got to take care of them. I think we’ve always done a good job of connecting with the people who buy our products. I’ve mentioned before that besides making bourbon, the Beams are good at selling it. A lot of that is plain old hard work and relationship building: getting out there and shaking hands, thanking the people, building friendships with the bartenders, the distributors, the restaurant and bar owners, and the general consumers. We don’t take anyone for granted, never have. We’ve always made an effort to let them know we appreciate their loyalty. And we have loyal customers, about as loyal as you can get. People who are engaged with our brand, people who feel part of the Beam family.

  Case in point: Not that long ago, we ran a little Facebook promotion. I said if we got more than one million Facebook fans in three months, I would do something bold. (Full disclosure: It was the marketing department’s idea, and I went along with it because I didn’t think we’d reach the mark, so I thought, what the hell, I’ll play along.) Well, I underestimated our customers, underestimated them big time. They got into it and we blew by that mark—we added thousands of fans in no time. So, to show my appreciation, and to keep my part of the bargain, I went out and got myself a tattoo of the Jim Beam logo on my arm. It was my first tattoo and it was a big deal because I hate needles, but it was the least I could do, and a deal is a deal. And our customers loved it. I got e-mails from hundreds of them saying they appreciated the effort, appreciated that I kept my word. I also got pictures of other people with Jim Beam tattoos. (Some had gotten them in strange places. . . .) Apparently I wasn’t the first one with the idea. So it was all good. I had some fun, but more important, I showed our customers my gratitude. Without them, I’m not sure where I would be. (I’ll tell you one thing, I wouldn’t be writing a book.) So, stay close to your customers, engage them in your business, and show them you understand them, that you care. I’m not saying you have to go out and get a tattoo, but that might help.

  10. Have a succession plan: A key reason for our longevity has been our natural succession process. For years we were a family-run business, so passing the mantle was pretty straightforward—the head job was passed down from generation to generation, father to son, or uncle to nephew. In some cases, it was a no-brainer—Jim Beam only had one son, Jere, so that was that. I know that won’t and can’t work in most other businesses. That’s why you need a plan, need to put some thought into it. Early on, you should identify someone who’s eventually going to fill the leadership role and begin grooming him or her. Jacob did that with David and David did that with David M., and so forth down the line. They had a lot of kids, so they had a lot of choices and they chose carefully. (This is all on the distilling side, now; we’re not talking about the corporate structure of Beam Inc.)

  We already have our eye on my son, Freddie. He’s a man now, a college graduate, and he’s expressed a keen interest in joining the company. He hasn’t yet, and nothing’s going to be promised or given to him just because of his bloodline. Also, there won’t be any pressure on him to join. Like Booker did with me, it will be his decision. If we open the door, it will be up to him to walk through it. I personally think he has the goods; he’s a better student than I was and seems more focused on his future. I’m a little biased, though. I guess time will tell. Regardless, the important thing is that we’re already thinking about it, already laying plans so when the time comes, we’ll make the right decision, a decision that won’t disrupt our business and will keep it moving forward on the right track.

  Okay, so there you have it: What Fred Noe Knows about Business. Like I said, no theories about supply and demand, no consumer preference studies, no predictions about trends in the marketplace. Probably won’t see this chapter reprinted in the Harvard Business Review. But I do know our company, and I do know what built and helped us last. So some advice for you to consider, honest and straightforward, just like my family and just like our bourbons. Use it at your own discretion!

  CHAPTER 11

  HOME

  Homeward bound. I looked out the window at the ground below, saw the Ohio River coming into view, shining and snaking through the flat land, curving this way and that. Off in the distance, I saw the knobs in the early evening light, soft sunlight bouncing off of them. Those hills have been there forever, since Jacob Beam’s time, and they’ll be there long after I’m gone. They’ve always reminded me of rack houses, strong and sturdy, silently keeping an eye on things, impervious to time.

  I don’t look out too many windows of airplanes anymore—been on too many flights to pay much attention—but this time I’m glad I did. I had been on the road for three straight weeks, one city after another, the days and nights blending together, everything a blur.

  Seeing Kentucky laid out like that down below made me feel good, solid. It also got me thinking about my home state and the business I’m in and how the two are linked together, inseparable.

  A few million years ago, an asteroid or meteor or something like that hit the Appalachians in the eastern part of the state, and when it did it helped make Kentucky possible. That thing blew a hole in the mountains and opened up a passageway to the west. The Cumberland Gap, they would eventually call it; a chance for pioneers looking for a better life. People walked through that gap, dragging along their life’s possessions behind them in a wooden wagon. Some kept going to other areas, further west to the Mississippi and parts beyond; others stayed forever.

  Looking down from the plane, I wondered about the ones who stayed. The ones who made a life in the mountains and in the hills and by the Ohio. I especially thought about the ones who grew corn and turned it into whiskey. A lot of them were kin of mine.

  Bourbon and Kentucky have always been one and the same. Can’t mention one without mentioning the other. Can’t have one without the other. Kentucky made bourbon and bourbon made Kentucky—that’s the simple, honest truth.

  I’ve written a lot abo
ut the Beams in these pages. I’m proud of my family, proud of what we’ve done and how long we’ve done it. But I’m also proud of the whole industry, proud even of our competitors. Over the years we’ve been through a lot, and I list most of them as good friends: Jimmy Russell and his son Eddie over at Wild Turkey; my cousins, Parker and his son Craig Beam, over at Heaven Hill; Elmer T. Lee at Buffalo Trace; and of course the Samuelses, Bill and Rob, lifelong friends of the Beams, partners and friendly rivals for decades. Even though we’re not blood, in a way all of us are.

  As I said, the distillers of Kentucky have been through a lot together. First, we had to work to clear the land and protect ourselves against the Indians; later we had to deal with George Washington and the very first tax agents; then came Prohibition and all that it entailed; and finally we had to confront a changing marketplace and the challenges other spirits represented: vodka, scotch, wine, and beer. Our ranks got thinner, but the ones who lasted got stronger. Through it all, we persevered and we helped each other out. If one of us had a problem, we were there: lightning strikes a rack house, you can use one of ours; grain shortage, we’ll sell you some corn; distillery flooded, we’ll be over with a boat; still breaks down, you can run your whiskey through our pots and columns.

  Through the generations, bourbon has bound us together. It’s who we are, and it’s who we’ll always be. In the end, whether you’re last name is Beam or not, we’re all family, each and every one of us. Just doing what our fathers, our grandfathers, and the men before them taught us.

  Bourbon in our blood, bourbon in our bones.

  A day or two after I got back from that long trip, I planned a little expedition, an adventure. Years before, Booker had claimed to have found a map that correctly identified the location of Jacob Beam’s original well, the spot where he first drew water to make his whiskey. He found the map in the archives of the county courthouse. I didn’t believe him; I thought no way that map is for real, no way that well is still out there after two centuries, and if it is, no way we’ll find it. But he was insistent that I go search for it; said it was my duty, my responsibility.

  Well, I never got around to it, but I kept that map in a safe place and now I dusted it off and was going out after it. I took along Jim the PR guy, and we got in my truck and off we went exploring, in search of the Holy Grail.

  We rolled through the hills, Jim squinting at the map and complaining. He wasn’t too keen on this idea, thought it was a waste of time, a wild goose chase. But after about 20 wrong turns, we came to a farm in Washington County.

  “I think it’s over there,” I said, pointing. “Past that creek.”

  We both looked at the map, then back out at the fields in front of us.

  “How are we going to get past that creek?” Jim asked.

  I opened the door of the truck. “We’re walking unless you brought a boat. Come on, Tonto, let’s go.”

  We walked across a flat field, and then we waded through the creek with our shoes still on. It wasn’t more than a few inches, but Jim made it seem like we were fording the Amazon.

  “You sure about this, Fred?” He kept looking around. I suspect he was thinking about the movie Deliverance and a part of me could understand why. We were in the middle of nowhere, deep back country, no one else around. He kept glancing this way and that, a city boy out of his element.

  “As long as we don’t hear banjo music, we’ll be okay.” I looked down at the map again. “Straight ahead, I think. Come on. Sun’s setting.”

  We made it across the creek, then through some woods, which opened up to a narrow path. We followed that path around a curve for a bit and there she was: the well.

  It was just a hole in the ground, but there were white stones surrounding it to mark its presence. I wasn’t sure who had laid down those stones or how long they had been there. I stepped closer to the hole, looked down. It was deep and dark, and after 200 years, that well was dry.

  “You sure this is it?” Jim asked.

  “Pretty big coincidence if it’s not, don’t you think? An old map says there’s a Jacob’s Well out here in Washington County where Jacob lived, and here it is.”

  We both stared down at the well for a while, and in the late afternoon I thought I could hear my ancestors talking to me, the ghosts whispering.

  A few years before, the company had put my likeness on the Jim Beam Bourbon label. It was a surprise, I hadn’t expected it, but mostly it was an honor to be listed in such company. Looking into the well, I thought about that now, thought about how I had felt that day when I first saw that bottle, the pride and the emotion that had overwhelmed me. I wish Booker had been around to share those moments. I know he would have been proud as well.

  Standing out there in the woods of Washington County, surrounded by the past, I felt a strong connection to my family, especially those other six men on the bottle: Jacob, David, David M., Jim Beam, Uncle Jere, and of course Booker. One family, one bourbon. All Beam.

  This whole ride had begun right here for those men, for all of us, at this exact spot. I’m sure that old Jacob had no idea what he was starting when he dropped a bucket down there. Had no idea that we would last this long, or that we would one day be where we are now. From this well to the world.

  Seven generations. Maybe one day eight, one after the other, never missing a beat.

  “Hey, Fred, you ready?” It was Jim and he was looking at his Blackberry.

  “Why don’t you go on back?” I said. “I’ll be there in a minute.”

  “You sure? You’re going to stay out here all alone? It’s getting dark.”

  “I’ll be all right. I’ll catch up. Go on now.”

  So he left, and I just stood there, staring down into that well. It was getting late, but I didn’t care. I wanted to stay as long as the light would let me. Besides, I wasn’t really alone. My family was there with me, I could feel them all around.

  APPENDIX

  COCKTAILS

  Around the world, people enjoy their bourbon differently. For the most part, I personally like my bourbon straight, with water back. But that’s just me. Like I said, everyone has their own preference, their own way of enjoying it. My mom, Annis, she likes her Jim Beam with ginger ale. Booker, he liked it with some water and maybe one single ice cube. It’s a personal thing.

  One thing is for sure: there’s no “proper” way to drink bourbon. It’s a very mixable drink, maybe one of the most mixable. So here are a few favorite ways to enjoy it. Some are Beam recipes, some aren’t. But they’re all good and should be enjoyed responsibly wherever you are in the world.

  Whiskey Sour

  Ingredients:

  1½ parts Jim Beam Bourbon

  1 part lemon juice

  ½ tsp. sugar

  1 lemon or orange wedge

  1 cherry

  Preparation:

  Add the sugar and the bourbon to the lemon juice. Garnish with lemon or orange wedge and a cherry.

  Manhattan

  Ingredients:

  1¾ parts Jim Beam Black

  ¾ part vermouth

  Cherry

  Dash of bitters (optional)

  Preparation:

  Add the sweet vermouth to the bourbon in a Manhattan glass. Optional: add a dash of bitters. Garnish with a cherry.

  Old-Fashioned

  Ingredients:

  1½ oz. Jim Beam Bourbon

  2 dashes of bitters

  Water

  Cherry

  Orange slice

  Lemon wedge

  ½ tsp. sugar

  Preparation:

  In an old-fashioned glass, dissolve sugar and bitters in the water. Fill glass with ice. Add bourbon; garnish with cherry, orange slice, and lemon wedge.

  BBG (Beam Black and Ginger Ale)

  Ingredients:

  1½ parts Jim Beam Black

  2 dashes of bitters

  4 parts ginger ale

  1 lemon wedge

  Combine bourbon and bitters in mixe
r and shake vigorously with no ice. Pour over ice in glass and top with soda. Garnish with lemon wedge.

  Knob Creek Bourbon Mint Julep

  Ingredients:

  1½ oz. Knob Creek Bourbon

  1 tsp. granulated sugar

  2 tsp. water

  Finely crushed ice

  Fresh mint, washed and patted dry

  Preparation:

  In a highball glass, dissolve the sugar in the water. Fill glass with crushed ice, and add bourbon. Stir contents until glass becomes frosty, adding more ice if necessary. Remove stems from some of the mint leaves and use a straw to push them into the chilled julep mix for added flavor. Garnish with remaining sprigs of mint.

  The Bitter Devil Cocktail

  Ingredients:

  1 part Devil’s Cut Bourbon

  1 part ginger ale

  1–2 dashes of bitters

  1 lemon wedge

  Preparation:

  Combine ingredients in a rocks glass, neat or on the rocks. Garnish with lemon wedge.

  Devil’s Play Punch

  Ingredients:

  1 part Devil’s Cut Bourbon

  ½ part ginger ale

  ½ part soda water

  1 lemon wedge

  Preparation:

  Combine ingredients in a tall, ice-filled glass. Garnish with fresh lemon.

  Red Stag Breeze

  Ingredients:

  1½ parts Red Stag by Jim Beam

  3 parts sweet and sour mix