They deliberated for more than a year, ultimately choosing to build a new brewery in Pottsville. Price tag: $50 million. While Yuengling's choice was the riskiest and would involve the most debt (two low-interest loans he expects to pay off next year), it would bring an additional 1.2 million barrels of capacity -- enough not only to meet current demand but also to resume the expansion into neighboring markets. Traditionally, family leaders had kept their wallets deep in their pockets, and Dick Jr. professes to be no exception. "I'm a cheap son of a gun," he says. "But after 165 years, I didn't do this on a whim. I was confident in our ability to grow."
The only problem was that construction would take close to three years. But then, right after breaking ground, Yuengling learned of a former Stroh's plant in Tampa that had become available. With its staff still intact and a capacity of 1.5 million barrels, the facility would alleviate the brewery's short-term crisis while the new brewery was completed. Perhaps more importantly, it would afford Yuengling the opportunity to open up the Southeast, a market that he had long eyed from afar. Moving production outside of Pottsville carried obvious risks, but he was willing to take them. Because technology has made brewing more science than art, the concern over inconsistent taste when a beer is brewed at more than one location is more one of perception than reality. Yuengling was confident his brand would stand up.
In April 1999, Yuengling bought the Stroh brewery for $13 million (and later spent $5 million in upgrades) -- a fraction of what it would have cost to build a similar facility from scratch. Years of fiscal restraint and low overhead provided Yuengling with the cash to pay out of pocket. Within three months, the plant was filling its first Yuengling bottles, bringing some much-needed breathing room. Just two years later in July 2001, the new state-of-the-art facility opened in Pottsville, making Yuengling America's "newest" brewery.
Yuengling capped his string of capital improvements in the summer of 2003 by spending $30 million on a new filling system, including 250,000 new and improved kegs. When all was said and done, the "cheap son of a gun" had committed $98 million toward upgrading the company.
Brewing is a lot easier than it used to be, but someone still has to keep an eye on the stove. At the old plant, that person is Jim Buehler, whose office is tucked away in a quiet corner near the museum, behind a frosted-glass door that identifies him simply as "Brewmaster." He began stacking cases in the bottle shop more than 30 years ago, and he remains a true believer. "Beer," he says without a hint of irony, "is good food. I'd rather drink beer than eat."
That beer first started flowing in 1829, when a German immigrant named David Yuengling opened the doors of his Eagle Brewery on Centre Street in Pottsville. Two years later, the building was destroyed by fire and replaced with what would become America's oldest brewery. Yuengling carved his second facility into the side of Sharp Mountain, using its underground caves to aid fermentation. With horse-drawn carts shuttling the beer in and around Schuylkill County, the company began to establish itself. For many years, though, it wasn't even the biggest brewery in Pottsville.
The first generational transfer of power at Yuengling began in 1873, less than a decade after the Civil War, when David's son Frederick joined him as partner, and the company became D.G. Yuengling and Son. Frederick took full control soon after and added the bottling line, but he passed away at 51, leaving his only son, Frank, at the helm. Barely in his early 20s when he took over, Frank would go on to inherit the biggest challenge in the brewery's history.
"I'm a cheap son of a gun. But after 165 years, I didn't do this on a whim. I was confident in our ability to grow."
All businesses face obstacles, but few face one as great as having the federal government ban its product. The 18th Amendment was ratified in 1919, and over the next 13 years, Yuengling barely survived Prohibition by making ice cream and "near beer," a nonalcoholic alternative the family hoped would maintain its brand recognition. When America's dry spell ended, many regional breweries were dead, but Yuengling unveiled its "Winner Beer," a jab at the temperance movement. Frank promptly sent a truckload to President Roosevelt at the White House.
When Frank's 64-year run ended in 1963, sons Richard Sr. and F. Dohrman took charge. Under Dick Sr. (Dohrman died in 1972), the brewery, like many family businesses, existed primarily to sustain the family. It often lost money, and expanding -- or even upgrading the plant -- was not on Dick Sr.'s agenda. He was mostly hoping to get by.
Dick Jr. began working at the family brewery in 1957, stacking crates as a teenager. From the beginning, he was outspoken about the flaws in the operation that he tended to notice. "I'd force my way into other areas of the business," he says. "I'd try to implement changes at 18, and, of course, I'd get overruled."
Disagreements with Senior led Junior to quit the business in 1973 to start his own distributorship. Naturally, he sold Yuengling (as well as other brands), and as a result, he routinely found himself back at the brewery, filling up his truck. His father was diagnosed with Alzheimer's in 1983, and Dick Jr. took charge not long after. "Hell, I always wanted to do this," he says. "I wasn't selling Pabst and Rolling Rock because I wanted to. I couldn't get along with my dad."
The wholesale contacts Dick Jr. had made as a distributor proved handy now that he was a manufacturer. A little bit of luck, it turns out, also helped. In the '80s and into the '90s, craft beers began rising to prominence, and even though Yuengling has always considered itself a workingman's beer and has priced it accordingly, its relative obscurity allowed it to ride the wave of the booming craft category. Yuengling's 200,000 barrels grew to 300,000 as the company began spreading across the Northeast.
