animal
11-20-2007, 06:33 PM
Nostalgia brews for return of state's historic A-1 beer (http://www.azcentral.com/arizonarepublic/news/articles/1119a1beer1119.html#)
Richard Ruelas
The Arizona Republic
Nov. 19, 2007 12:00 AM
For a time, it was what Arizona drank. A-1 beer was bigger than Budweiser, bigger than Coors.
A-1 signs hung outside taverns and bars all over the city, and A-1 artwork hung inside. A-1 sponsored sports teams, and its production facility became a gathering spot.
Then A-1 went away, disappearing slowly like suds atop a cold pint. advertisement
The brewery in the middle of central Phoenix sat vacant for years. The beer cans and bottles became collectibles rather than consumables. A-1, which had been so prominent, became a nearly forgotten footnote.
But there are traces of what once was. A large inlaid A-1 logo sits outside the door of the Phoenix Fire Department headquarters at 12th and Madison streets. There's a veritable shrine dedicated to the beer at one of the region's most popular steakhouses. A current brewer has made a beer he hopes follows the A-1 style. And a southern Arizona man hopes to once again sell beer bottled with the A-1 name.
"It's just a shame," said Andy Ingram, the brewer at Four Peaks in Tempe, who has created the A-1 tribute brew, "because it was here for so long."
It might seem odd that A-1 beer faded from its lofty status in the 1950s, about the time that Phoenix's growth was exploding. But the current nostalgia for A-1, and its possible comeback, reflects a city's growing appreciation for its sometimes abandoned roots.
"There's just something about Arizona having its own things we can cling to," said Eli Drakulich, the man who owns the trademark to the A-1 beer name. "When I bought the trademark, I didn't just buy the trademark. I bought a part of history."
Drakulich hopes to bring back A-1 beer in the next two years. He runs a chain of wine stores called Beverage House in Tucson and southern Arizona, making his plans a little complicated as he sorts through Arizona's liquor laws.
But he hopes to restore the beer, and the history. "I know it's not a great business decision from dollars and cents," he said. "But you've got to have the heart, too."
Gulp of A-1 history
The decision will make great business sense if Drakulich can repeat the beer's former dominance in the state. According to a 1956 Arizona Republic story, more than half of all beer sold in the state that year was made by Arizona Brewing Co., makers of A-1 beer.
The brewery opened in Phoenix shortly after the end of Prohibition in 1933, said Ed Sipos, 41, who is working on a book about Arizona beers.
The original company, according to a story from the Republic archives, put out several beers under different labels: Hopi, Apache, Dutch Treat, Wunderland and Sunbru. That last name, placed on the brewery's first bottled beer, was chosen by Republic readers in a contest.
In 1942, Joseph Lanser moved to Arizona from Tacoma, Wash., and bought the brewery. He started bottling under the A-1 name, and sales soared.
By 1949, Arizona Brewing Co. expanded, building a $2 million, four-story facility.
A-1 pushed its local ties, Sipos said.
It sponsored a minor-league baseball team called the Phoenix Stars, rescuing it from going under, Sipos said. It also sponsored a women's softball team, the A-1 Queens.
The brewery also commissioned artwork by Lon Megargee, a renowned Arizona artist whose work had been on display at the state Capitol. It gave the prints to bars for free.
"Every bar that served A-1 had those pictures," said Herman Dickson, who sells prints of that artwork at his Web site, www.a-1beerprints.com.
But even as the brewery seemed to be thriving in the 1950s, it was slowly losing money, Sipos said. Material costs kept going up. And A-1 had to advertise more to attract the people moving into the city.
"A lot of people came from out of town and had their own brands they liked," Sipos said.
Coors and Budweiser also started making stronger advertising pushes in the Phoenix market.
"A-1 just didn't have the presence and advertising budget to compete against the larger breweries," said Art Pearce, whose family's Pearce Beverage Co. was the longtime Coors distributor for the state.
Coors also told bar owners they would have to get rid of their A-1 taps if they wanted to serve Coors, Pearce said.
Adding to A-1's woes, Anheuser-Busch, the maker of Budweiser, filed a suit, claiming the eagle on the A-1 logo was too similar to its label. The suit was settled in 1957, according to a Republic story. By 1958, A-1 replaced the eagle with a knight on horseback holding a banner that said Lancers. The name Lanser was intentionally misspelled.
The company junked the A-1 name completely in 1962, switching the beer's name to Lancer's.
At the time, Joe Lanser Jr., the vice president of the brewery, said that too many other companies were using the A-1 name, and the new white colorful can would better appeal to consumers.
At the time, Republic columnist Don Dedera suggested that changing the name of the beer might destroy a state institution. "For 20 years A-1 has been the local beer," Dedera wrote. "A generation of collegians dating back to Arizona State Teachers College has weaned from cream soda to the frothy beverage called A-1."
Quality slipped over time, Sipos said. After the elder Lanser died in 1963, the brewery changed recipes and may have even watered down the beer, said Sipos, who conducted interviews with brewery employees.
By 1964, Carling Brewing Co. bought out Arizona Brewing Co. Soon the Phoenix brewery was making the "imported" Canadian beer Black Label, as well as Stag.
The brewery was still a local hangout, though, said Helen Goldsmith, 77, of Scottsdale, who was a receptionist at the company in the early 1960s. Thousands annually took advantage of the hospitality room at the brewery, which offered free samples, she said.
"You could come in and put your elbow on the bar and you could have a drink of beer," she said.
The floor of the hospitality room was decorated with a large A-1 logo inlaid in the tile. It stayed even after the A-1 name faded out.
In the '70s, Carling tried to bring back the brand. It sponsored the Phoenix Suns basketball team beginning in 1972. Al McCoy, the radio voice of the team, would say a shot was "good like A-1 beer."
An archival history of A-1's ups and downs is preserved in a back room of Pinnacle Peak Patio in north Scottsdale. Marv Dickson, a longtime cook there and brother of Herman, curates the growing collection of A-1 memorabilia.
Promotional A-1 cans show a Suns schedule from the 1973-74 season and the 1974-75 season. A-1 beer stopped sponsoring the Suns right before the 1975-76 season, the year the team went to the NBA Finals.
A-1 had one more try at a comeback in 1979, Sipos said. It used the slogan "Arizona, you're A-1." But by then, it was a down-market beer, found in the bottom shelf of store coolers.
The brewery closed in 1985 and sat vacant for years.
In 1993, it was demolished and the headquarters for the Phoenix Fire Department was built in its place. The large A-1 tile in the hospitality room was preserved and sits outside the west entrance to the lobby.
There was a sentimental and historic attachment between the brewery and the Fire Department, said Robert Cantwell, assistant fire chief. Cantwell said the firefighters union used to have its meetings in the brewery back in the 1940s.
Currently, nothing explains the A-1 tile to visitors, Cantwell said. "We might think about adding that," he said, "so 20, 25 years from now (the story) doesn't fade away."
Similarly, there is no explanation at the Four Peaks brewery about the Sunbru beer. The only hint is the small word "tribute" on the label. "Honestly," said Ingram, the 38-year-old brewer, "we didn't think a lot of people would care."
Drakulich, the trademark owner who hopes to bring back an A-1 beer by 2010, said he won't worry about replicating the original but will try to make a quality brew. That's what he remembered A-1 being during its heyday.
"It was fabulous," Drakulich said. "Great, great beer. Perfect for the Southwest, perfect for the desert."
Those who had A-1 during the 1970s don't speak as kindly.
"I didn't like it," said Herman Dickson, the man who sells the A-1 artwork.
Sipos, the historian, said A-1's slide in quality might hurt people's nostalgia for it. "Most of the people who are going to remember it will say it's bad," he said.
"Well, that bottle's full," said Marv Dickson, pointing to an artifact in Pinnacle Peak's A-1 room. "We could take it down, open it up and taste it."
Reach the reporter at 602-444-8473 or richard.ruelas@arizonarepublic.com.
Richard Ruelas
The Arizona Republic
Nov. 19, 2007 12:00 AM
For a time, it was what Arizona drank. A-1 beer was bigger than Budweiser, bigger than Coors.
A-1 signs hung outside taverns and bars all over the city, and A-1 artwork hung inside. A-1 sponsored sports teams, and its production facility became a gathering spot.
Then A-1 went away, disappearing slowly like suds atop a cold pint. advertisement
The brewery in the middle of central Phoenix sat vacant for years. The beer cans and bottles became collectibles rather than consumables. A-1, which had been so prominent, became a nearly forgotten footnote.
But there are traces of what once was. A large inlaid A-1 logo sits outside the door of the Phoenix Fire Department headquarters at 12th and Madison streets. There's a veritable shrine dedicated to the beer at one of the region's most popular steakhouses. A current brewer has made a beer he hopes follows the A-1 style. And a southern Arizona man hopes to once again sell beer bottled with the A-1 name.
"It's just a shame," said Andy Ingram, the brewer at Four Peaks in Tempe, who has created the A-1 tribute brew, "because it was here for so long."
It might seem odd that A-1 beer faded from its lofty status in the 1950s, about the time that Phoenix's growth was exploding. But the current nostalgia for A-1, and its possible comeback, reflects a city's growing appreciation for its sometimes abandoned roots.
"There's just something about Arizona having its own things we can cling to," said Eli Drakulich, the man who owns the trademark to the A-1 beer name. "When I bought the trademark, I didn't just buy the trademark. I bought a part of history."
Drakulich hopes to bring back A-1 beer in the next two years. He runs a chain of wine stores called Beverage House in Tucson and southern Arizona, making his plans a little complicated as he sorts through Arizona's liquor laws.
But he hopes to restore the beer, and the history. "I know it's not a great business decision from dollars and cents," he said. "But you've got to have the heart, too."
Gulp of A-1 history
The decision will make great business sense if Drakulich can repeat the beer's former dominance in the state. According to a 1956 Arizona Republic story, more than half of all beer sold in the state that year was made by Arizona Brewing Co., makers of A-1 beer.
The brewery opened in Phoenix shortly after the end of Prohibition in 1933, said Ed Sipos, 41, who is working on a book about Arizona beers.
The original company, according to a story from the Republic archives, put out several beers under different labels: Hopi, Apache, Dutch Treat, Wunderland and Sunbru. That last name, placed on the brewery's first bottled beer, was chosen by Republic readers in a contest.
In 1942, Joseph Lanser moved to Arizona from Tacoma, Wash., and bought the brewery. He started bottling under the A-1 name, and sales soared.
By 1949, Arizona Brewing Co. expanded, building a $2 million, four-story facility.
A-1 pushed its local ties, Sipos said.
It sponsored a minor-league baseball team called the Phoenix Stars, rescuing it from going under, Sipos said. It also sponsored a women's softball team, the A-1 Queens.
The brewery also commissioned artwork by Lon Megargee, a renowned Arizona artist whose work had been on display at the state Capitol. It gave the prints to bars for free.
"Every bar that served A-1 had those pictures," said Herman Dickson, who sells prints of that artwork at his Web site, www.a-1beerprints.com.
But even as the brewery seemed to be thriving in the 1950s, it was slowly losing money, Sipos said. Material costs kept going up. And A-1 had to advertise more to attract the people moving into the city.
"A lot of people came from out of town and had their own brands they liked," Sipos said.
Coors and Budweiser also started making stronger advertising pushes in the Phoenix market.
"A-1 just didn't have the presence and advertising budget to compete against the larger breweries," said Art Pearce, whose family's Pearce Beverage Co. was the longtime Coors distributor for the state.
Coors also told bar owners they would have to get rid of their A-1 taps if they wanted to serve Coors, Pearce said.
Adding to A-1's woes, Anheuser-Busch, the maker of Budweiser, filed a suit, claiming the eagle on the A-1 logo was too similar to its label. The suit was settled in 1957, according to a Republic story. By 1958, A-1 replaced the eagle with a knight on horseback holding a banner that said Lancers. The name Lanser was intentionally misspelled.
The company junked the A-1 name completely in 1962, switching the beer's name to Lancer's.
At the time, Joe Lanser Jr., the vice president of the brewery, said that too many other companies were using the A-1 name, and the new white colorful can would better appeal to consumers.
At the time, Republic columnist Don Dedera suggested that changing the name of the beer might destroy a state institution. "For 20 years A-1 has been the local beer," Dedera wrote. "A generation of collegians dating back to Arizona State Teachers College has weaned from cream soda to the frothy beverage called A-1."
Quality slipped over time, Sipos said. After the elder Lanser died in 1963, the brewery changed recipes and may have even watered down the beer, said Sipos, who conducted interviews with brewery employees.
By 1964, Carling Brewing Co. bought out Arizona Brewing Co. Soon the Phoenix brewery was making the "imported" Canadian beer Black Label, as well as Stag.
The brewery was still a local hangout, though, said Helen Goldsmith, 77, of Scottsdale, who was a receptionist at the company in the early 1960s. Thousands annually took advantage of the hospitality room at the brewery, which offered free samples, she said.
"You could come in and put your elbow on the bar and you could have a drink of beer," she said.
The floor of the hospitality room was decorated with a large A-1 logo inlaid in the tile. It stayed even after the A-1 name faded out.
In the '70s, Carling tried to bring back the brand. It sponsored the Phoenix Suns basketball team beginning in 1972. Al McCoy, the radio voice of the team, would say a shot was "good like A-1 beer."
An archival history of A-1's ups and downs is preserved in a back room of Pinnacle Peak Patio in north Scottsdale. Marv Dickson, a longtime cook there and brother of Herman, curates the growing collection of A-1 memorabilia.
Promotional A-1 cans show a Suns schedule from the 1973-74 season and the 1974-75 season. A-1 beer stopped sponsoring the Suns right before the 1975-76 season, the year the team went to the NBA Finals.
A-1 had one more try at a comeback in 1979, Sipos said. It used the slogan "Arizona, you're A-1." But by then, it was a down-market beer, found in the bottom shelf of store coolers.
The brewery closed in 1985 and sat vacant for years.
In 1993, it was demolished and the headquarters for the Phoenix Fire Department was built in its place. The large A-1 tile in the hospitality room was preserved and sits outside the west entrance to the lobby.
There was a sentimental and historic attachment between the brewery and the Fire Department, said Robert Cantwell, assistant fire chief. Cantwell said the firefighters union used to have its meetings in the brewery back in the 1940s.
Currently, nothing explains the A-1 tile to visitors, Cantwell said. "We might think about adding that," he said, "so 20, 25 years from now (the story) doesn't fade away."
Similarly, there is no explanation at the Four Peaks brewery about the Sunbru beer. The only hint is the small word "tribute" on the label. "Honestly," said Ingram, the 38-year-old brewer, "we didn't think a lot of people would care."
Drakulich, the trademark owner who hopes to bring back an A-1 beer by 2010, said he won't worry about replicating the original but will try to make a quality brew. That's what he remembered A-1 being during its heyday.
"It was fabulous," Drakulich said. "Great, great beer. Perfect for the Southwest, perfect for the desert."
Those who had A-1 during the 1970s don't speak as kindly.
"I didn't like it," said Herman Dickson, the man who sells the A-1 artwork.
Sipos, the historian, said A-1's slide in quality might hurt people's nostalgia for it. "Most of the people who are going to remember it will say it's bad," he said.
"Well, that bottle's full," said Marv Dickson, pointing to an artifact in Pinnacle Peak's A-1 room. "We could take it down, open it up and taste it."
Reach the reporter at 602-444-8473 or richard.ruelas@arizonarepublic.com.