Coronavirus at One: The Long-Lasting Trauma
In this ongoing series, I have been posting the reflections of brewers and cidermakers as they navigate the coronavirus pandemic. This week we'll have a series of our regulars discussing the pandemic at one year. You can see other posts in the series here.
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In today’s diary, the always-candid Ben Parsons offers a blow-by-blow of what the past year felt like. His brewery, Baerlic, didn’t just survive—it actually grew. Yet even that success came at a cost that left Ben and his team with lingering trauma.
Owning and operating a brewery has always been extremely challenging work. And yet the results have almost always been extremely rewarding. Each and every time we have grown—whether it has been expanding production or building out a new taproom or hiring for an entirely new position—it comes from a place of inexperience yet is wholly grounded in very real hands-on experience. Each step we make leads us to the next step we make. As a business, I never really know what we’re going to do until we are doing it. And while this way of running a business may lack the typical overthinking that, say, an MBA would provide, I just can’t not do it that way. Simply put, I run on gut and feel.
I often joke that we started a million dollar brewery with half a million dollars. That is an attempt to explain how much hand has gone into this business. [Co-founder] Rik Hall and I spent six straight months (after nearly two years in planning) in 2014 working 10-14 hour days 7 days a week to open what was at the time our dream brewery. We quite literally built this business with our bare hands. We cut, broke and hauled away the concrete. We framed, sheetrocked and painted the walls. We worked endless hours because we had no other choice…By the time we fully comprehended how challenging opening a brewery was it was too late to turn back. But more than that, it was extremely rewarding work. That is easily what kept us going and has kept us going over the years. In my experience, that is the give-and-take of owning and operating a brewery—what it takes in time, stress, effort and risk it gives back in unforgettable and rewarding life experience. We earn our (liquid) bread by the sweat of our brow sort of thing.
When I try and remember and reflect on the last 363 days, I can’t help but get anxious. The tightness in my chest…the inflated breathing…and the tingle I get in my head and face and lips from too much oxygen in my blood. I have gotten to know anxiety over the last year more than I ever thought I would and it’s weird to think that I am now quite comfortable with it. The difference here is that anxiety has never really been a part of running this business. The work—even the more risky work—has always been stressful yes, but also so damn worth it and rewarding. Turning nothing into something is my jam. So stress and sore backs and calloused hands are par for the course. It’s usually nothing a couple of beers after a long day won’t cure. But not going out of business after a year of shutdowns, restrictions and the very real threat of a deadly disease isn’t rewarding. Just like treading water alone in the middle of an ocean isn’t.
That’s the rub for me. For all intents and purposes, Baerlic has survived. We’re actually up this year…for whatever reason(s). Yay! We did it! But what does that even mean?
Most importantly, we kept the entirety of our staff on. There are now 17 (soon to be 19) of us and more or less we have the exact same team as we did just prior to the shut down. On paper, that’s great news, but what was once rewarding and fun work is now just…work. Really f**king hard, exhausting work. What was once a bright eyed beertender pouring sample trays and waxing on about hop varietals and dog breeds over the bar is now an order taker and a janitor. What was once a brewer, catching up with the team over a few beers after work going on and on about the proper CIP procedure is now a factory worker—isolated in the back of house on staggered shifts. Just them and the stainless steel. What was once an eager salesperson bouncing around town talking about beer over a beer is now an online sales rep. An order-taker for an e-commerce company. What was once a distro driver—schlepping thousands of pounds of beer a week to wholesale accounts knowing that a cold beer at the end of the day will make up for the grumpy receiver at that one account—is now part DoorDash driver—hustling 4-packs of Dad Beer to doorsteps in the ‘burbs. I often worry about them and whether they think their jobs are worth it anymore. I sometimes wonder if my job is worth it anymore.
That being said, I am more than proud of the work of my crew. They have provided more stoke factor than even I have been able to muster for the last several months and I am very grateful for that. But I just can’t expect them to be happy about surviving this…happy that the world is getting back to ‘normal. F**k that. The world has quite literally chewed them up and spit them back out on more than one occasion. And we have to recognize that there is real trauma in that. Real, long-lasting trauma. And now that things are beginning to get back to this new ‘normal’, the world will expect them all to just roll back into the before times with a smile…cause at least they were able to keep their jobs, right? And it is the beer industry after all, what’s not to be happy about?
As a business owner, it is my responsibility to balance the needs of the company with the needs of my team. And that’s a really big challenge right now. Morale is down and I’m sure to be lacking the optimism and gusto that I once had to weather that. Not to say that I’m not really optimistic and happy about the current state of the pandemic, because I am. It’s the best it’s ever been and is only going to get better. I am beyond stoked that my mom, having received two doses of vaccine, can now see her grandkids. I am more than stoked to grab a beer with my friends whenever the hell I want to; that my kids can begin to grow out of this fog; that the business is thriving; that my team can get back to a more rewarding version of their jobs. I am excited to get back to the expansion we put on hold this time last year in which we add a lot of capacity and a dedicated packaging hall. I am also very excited to see what and how our new 6,000 sq ft Beergarden and Piehall with Ranch Pizza will exist in the post pandemic world…
But, I am tired…out of gas. I am entirely spent from surviving. And I can only assume that my team is too. But, as I’ve said before, failure is not an option and whatever the world throws at us…we ride this thing til the wheels fall off.
Image: Baerlic Brewing