Coronavirus Diaries (7/2): An Uneasy Welcome Back
Gigantic is back open.
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In this latest round of reports from breweries trying to survive the Coronavirus, I noticed a theme in the writing: after nearly four months of the crisis, with no end in sight, brewers are starting to get both poetic and philosophical. These messages are so heartfelt and so full of important information that I’m not going to do an omnibus roundup. I’ll give everyone their moment in the spotlight. Pay attention and listen. This is the human cost.
As a short background, every county in Oregon is now in Phase 1 of reopening, with Multnomah County (Portland) finally getting the green light a couple weeks ago. Our numbers remain relatively low overall, but they are jumping up alarmingly. This week Governor Kate Brown issued an order that all citizens must wear masks in public.
First up is Van Havig, co-founder with Ben Love of Gigantic Brewing. Gigantic has a production brewery with a taproom in industrial Southeast Portland, and before the virus had been working on a second taproom facility on Northeast Glisan at 70th.
This is all so messed up. I still don't know how I feel about re-opening the tap room, even though it's currently day 3 of the new COVID rules. My thoughts are so difficult to organize on this issue that I can think of no other way to address them outside of the nearly random musings and concerns that follow.
When we decided to shut our tap room down in March, just hours before we were told we would have to close anyway, we actually talked about having a re-opening party for all of our people once this was “over.” We thought it would be so good to see them again, and that we could get our little community back. Now that we've re-opened, it's under such stilted and non-communal circumstances that everything just feels awkward. There's hardly any real celebration. Don't get me wrong, people are happy to be able to come back and see friends and the extended Gigantic family, but it feels like there's an ominous presence everywhere. Maybe it's just me. I've told many people many times that the thing I'm most proud of at Gigantic is the genuine Public House (yes that's capitalized for a reason) feeling we've created here. I know that most of our regulars like the beer, but they really come for the feeling of belonging that they get when they're here. Beer is about people. I'm proud to say that at Gigantic we feel that, believe that, and treat all of our customers that way. But now, with the way we have to operate, it all just feels wrong to me. So much so that I'm hardly interested in my end of day pint when I go out into the tap room and say hello to whoever is there.
We're supposed to be happy that we've opened back up. It's supposed to be the light at the end of the tunnel. It should be the case that the financial bleeding we've all been doing should be slowing. We're supposed to feel some kind of relief. I feel little of that. I mainly feel a sense of anxiousness and foreboding. My wife works in the tap room. I have known all of my employees for at least three years at this point, most of them I've known for at least eight years, and some I've known for nearly two decades. I am acutely aware that service workers are more likely to be exposed to this disease than most others. We've taken all the precautions we can think to take. We have always been willing to change things if a better idea comes along, and we will instantly put in place new procedures if it keeps people healthy. But I live in fear of the day when one of my employees gets sick because of working here. There is no possible way to completely protect yourself from this virus outside of shutting yourself up until a vaccine is available. And whereas I'm the oldest person at Gigantic (I turned 50 earlier this month), and therefore statistically the most likely to come down with a severe form of COVID, it is entirely within the realm of possibility that any of us could get a severe case. I think people only think about the chance of death, but think about how difficult being hospitalized with COVID could be. The isolation, the worry, the fear, the costs (we have health care for most of our employees, but it would still cost thousands of dollars)—I don't wish that on anyone. And weirdly, as a brewer, one of the things that scares me most about COVID is the potential to lose one's sense of smell; it seems that in most cases it comes back, but there are reports of people who have recovered but still can't smell. That terrifies me.
I am incredibly happy to see everyone again, even under these circumstances. Many of our regulars have now been a part of my life for 7+ years, and I genuinely like these people. It does feel like a tiny bit of normalcy has come back.
“It’s good to hear Kenny’s laugh again, to see Rich hold court, to have Sharon light up the room. Some of the 3-o’clock retired guys have yet to come back, and that’s understandable. I guess I know everything will be alright when Jack, Dean, Leonard and Jim are at the bar again. I could name a score of others who I’m thinking about.”
So how do I feel? Way back when, I wanted to be a brewer for the beer (the flavor, the culture, the science, the process, the history) but also for what beer does for people. I firmly believe that beer brings people together in an egalitarian way. It is a drink that binds our souls to each other. COVID feels like it's decided to pick a fight with all the best things about beer (and wine and food and ...). I know it won't win. It can't win. It feels like round two of a fight in which beer took a beating in the first round and is on shaky legs in the second. I'm guessing this will be at least a five round fight. I'm hoping it won't go to 15. I really don't want it to go to a decision. I want it to be a knockout—COVID on the canvas and all of us raising a pint. It'll happen. But we have rounds to go and all of our breweries are going to have to bob and weave and get punches in where we can. Don't ask me why I'm making a boxing analogy—I guess it feels like many of us are fighting for our businesses and our culture. And that's a fight worth having and one I'm going to win.
PHOTO: GIGANTIC BREWING