Chalmersiz | 15 |
at Free State Growlers | 7 |
Free State Growlers | 7 |
at John Denver Experience | 8 |
Free State Growlers | 18 |
at Reading Rockets | 2 |
Free State Growlers | 15 |
at Sacred Sword | 8 |
Free State Growlers | 6 |
at Ladybird Harpies | 2 |
Woost | 3 |
at Free State Growlers | 8 |
Pawsh Wash | 5 |
at Free State Growlers | 11 |
Free State Growlers | 17 |
at Corksuckers | 2 |
Nick Lerner's "Homies" | 3 |
at Free State Growlers | 15 |
Johnny's Tavern | 15 |
at Free State Growlers | 18 |
Free State Growlers | 17 |
at Repetition Coffee | 4 |
Pawsh Wash | 15 |
at Free State Growlers | 12 |
âBecause without beer, things do not seem to go as well.â
Chuck Magerl grew up surrounded by family history.
During Prohibition, his grandfather was sent to Leavenworth Penitentiary for distributing alcohol.
One great-great grandfather was the sheriff of Jackson County, Missouri -- Â in 1869, the governor of Missouri sent a letter, authorizing him to capture Frank and Jesse James, dead or alive.
Another ancestor ran a saloon in Kansas City; a ledger book shows he paid $7 per barrel of beer in 1909.
And, Magerl has made history of his own. He was a pioneer in the local craft beer and artisan food movements, long before those were really a thing. He also helped change the liquor laws in Kansas to open the Free State Brewing Company in Lawrence â the first legal brewery in the state after Prohibition.
âItâs a fun legacy to be able to draw on,â Magerl told host Brian Ellison on KCUR
While growing up in Kansas City, Magerl spent his Saturdays working at his grandfatherâs small grocery store on the Westside, bagging and boxing groceries and delivering them up and down the hills of the neighborhood.
One of his early heroes was Albert Schweitzer, the physician and humanitarian. Inspired, Magerl went to KU and to study biology and pre-med.
âI got distracted in the course of that,â he said. âWithin a few years, food became the calling again.â
In the mid-1970s, he was one of the founders of The Community Mercantile in Lawrence, a natural foods grocery co-op (now called The Merc).
Working at his grandfatherâs store helped demystify the business for him.
âI had a chance to run in and out of the back room at my grandfatherâs store,â he said. âI was able to look in the meat case and see what were exotic items to me at that point: pigâs feet, ox tail, snout, liver ⦠it gave me the sense of how people provided that for their customers.
âI think thatâs a really important part in anybodyâs life is once you see the back room and you understand how that works, it gives you the ability to say, âyes, I can give that a go.ââ
His grandfather was somewhat skeptical about his grandsonâs foray into the business.
âIs this a co-op? Why arenât you just joining an AG, an associated grocers?â he recalled his grandfather asking. But at the same time, he said, his grandfather felt a certain sense of pride that Magerl was continuing in the family business.
At that time, there wasnât anything like The Community Mercantile in Lawrence. The grocery business was consolidated and uniform in some ways, he said. Groceries were delivered on trucks and put on the shelves, no questions asked.
âMainstream was the word of the 1970s, both in the beer business and the food business. The variety was dwindling,â he said.
That was the low point in terms of beer variety and quality in the United States, he said. There werenât many breweries â especially small, local breweries.
Not long after opening The Community Mercantile, Magerl was writing an article for a community tabloid about the history of brewers in Lawrence. During the course of his research, he wondered why Kansas used to have around 130 breweries in the 1870s. But nearly 100 years later, there were none.
âSo that historical component was really the inspiration to try something new,â he said.
The answer of the disappearing breweries riddle was Prohibition. Once, the alcohol industry was big in the state, but people became concerned about its effects.
In 1881, Kansas was the first state to enact a ban on alcohol. And when Prohibition was repealed on a federal level in 1933, Kansas held on until 1948, when it began to modify some of the law.
âItâs been a slow process ever since,â Magerl said.
He had started brewing beer at home, and he took classes in brewing at the University of California, Davis. One day, a friend who had just returned from a visit to a small brewery in Yakima, Washington, told him about a new thing: brewing beer and selling it at the same location.
But first, the liquor laws had to change.
At that point, in the mid-1980s, if you wanted to go out to dinner, you couldnât order beer or a glass of wine with your meal. You had to be a member of a private club of that restaurant in order to do so.
âBasically, we overhauled the entire code of alcohol law in Kansas,â he said.
He spent time in Topeka, talking to legislators. It was difficult, he said, because he didnât have any models to show them; he couldnât say, âGo to Des Moines, youâll see something like this.â
âAnd talking about breweries ⦠really, the only thing people had as a reference was, âIâve been to that one in Golden, Coloradoâ or St. Louis,â he said. âI had to explain, thatâs not really what weâre talking about ⦠more local, anchored in the immediate community.â
It came down to the last days of the session, he said, but he was successful, and Free State opened in an abandoned bus depot on the north end of Massachusetts Street in 1989.
Several years later, the same friend who told him about the brewery in Yakima was running a grain exchange to preserve heirloom grains. That friend, Thom Leonard, had a small bakery in Salina, Kansas. He wanted to move it to Lawrence, so he approached Magerl, and along with a chef, they opened WheatFields Bakery.
Now, craft breweries and artisanal food products are common in Lawrence and Kansas City. Magerl is pleased by the shifts in the food and beverage scene.
âWeâre seeing extraordinary strides; itâs wonderful to see the variety out there,â he said. âPeople are connecting with food and beer in a way thatâs not imaginable 15 years ago.â
He still feels like a pioneer.
âI still do in the sense that Iâm involved every day, I havenât retired from this business, and Iâm constantly learning,â he said. âIâm reading technical bulletins, Iâm reading information from all over the world having to do with beer and barley. It engages me every day.
âI think in some ways, one of the best phrases I can imagine is greeting somebody with, âGood to see you. Can I get you a beer?ââ he said.
âWhat a welcoming sentence that is.â