The Promise: Lessons in Life and Bourbon with Freddie Johnson

If there is one episode I would want everyone to hear, it would be this episode.  While I am proud of every episode, this one holds a special place.  There is a message and meaning that everyone, whether you are a bourbon fan or not, should hear.  I hope you enjoy it ! 

In this episode, the delicate art of promise-making is put under the microscope—a reminder that every word we utter carries a hidden weight. We delve into a world where promises are not mere utterances, but seeds that, when nurtured, grow into legacies that span generations. The narrative weaves through personal and meaningful encounters on the bourbon trail, from the emotional farewell of a couple on the brink of deployment to a serendipitous moment when a stranger’s plea for a favor transforms into a shared experience over a very rare bottle of bourbon. Here, every sip tells a story of sacrifice, love, and the courage to honor one’s word.

Amid the rustic charm of aging barrels and storied distillery corridors, the episode reveals that the true measure of a promise isn’t in its making, but in its fulfillment. The narrative shifts, inviting us to question what it means to truly commit—to live a life where a promise is a spark that ignites change, touching thousands of lives along its path. As the echoes of past vows resonate in the present, the episode leaves you with a lingering thought: what promise will you choose to keep, what moments do you hold dear, and how will it shape a legacy?

Feel free to email your thoughts about the episode or the show in general at thebourbonprincipal.com. I would love to hear from you!

Thank you for listening to Bourbon: Legends from the Trail, where history meets flavor and every bottle has a story to tell. Cheers to the stores and legends behind the Spirit! Please leave a rating and review as it will help me plan future episodes.

Transcript

A promise….

How often do we take time to think — I mean…..really think — before saying the words I promise? Do we ever stop to consider what we’re offering, or do those words slip out like a reflex, without thought to the weight they carry or the path they might set in motion?

The truth is, a promise can be heavier than any barrel resting in a rickhouse. It can anchor you, shape your choices, and quietly guide your steps… long after the words are spoken. Promises can be made in a heartbeat — whispered between loved ones, declared with fierce conviction, or spoken softly in moments of doubt. Making them is easy. Keeping them….well that…. is where the work begins.

Honoring a promise often means stepping into the unknown, enduring discomfort, and resisting the temptation to take the easier road. But for those who hold firm, a promise kept has the power to shape legacies — not just for those the promise was made to, but for the one who made it.

Because in the end, it’s not just about the words you said. It’s about proving, to yourself and to the world, that your word meant something.

And a promise made out of love? Well……That’s the most powerful promise of all.

Bourbon history is rich with stories of promises. There’s Booker Noe, who promised his mother he’d preserve the Beam family traditions, to make bourbon the way the family had done for over 200 years, when he took the reins at Jim Beam — a promise that gave us his now famous Booker’s Bourbon. And then there’s Bill Samuels Sr., who promised his wife Margie he’d toss the old family recipe for bourbon into the fire and create a new bourbon — a bourbon that would be softer, sweeter on the palate. His promise gave the world….Maker’s Mark, one of the most iconic brands today.

But today, I want to tell you about a different kind of promise. Not one made by a master distiller or a legendary distillery owner — but a promise between a father and a son.

The father believed in his son, told him so often, and had no doubt he would go out into the world and do incredible things. But before the son left, the father asked for one thing — a promise. That no matter where life took him, one day, the son would come back home and work at the distillery where both his father and grandfather had spent decades of their lives, — building a legacy 3 generations strong. Out of love and respect, the son made that promise.

Life, as it often does, carried him far from home. He built a successful career as a network and operations engineer in Atlanta, carving out his own path. But in 2002, the phone rang — and everything changed. His father was sick. He needed a caregiver. Without hesitation, the son packed up his family, left behind his career, and returned to Frankfort, Kentucky. His father even helped him secure a job as a tour guide at the distillery — and thus quietly fulfilling the promise made all those years before.

Neither of them could have known that keeping that promise wouldn’t just change his life — it would go on to touch the lives of thousands of visitors, leaving a legacy far greater than either of them could have ever imagined.

And that… is where the real story begins.

Intro

One of the gifts of working on the bourbon trail is that I occasionally cross paths with legends — the kind of folks who leave fingerprints on the soul of America’s whiskey. Every one of them has been gracious with their time, whether we chatted for an hour or just a fleeting moment. There’s no pretentious air about them — just good, common folks with stories to tell.

Today’s legend is about a legend, a man who made that promise to his dad and by all accounts, belongs among those greats. But if you called him a legend to his face, he’d likely laugh it off. Humility radiates from him like the smell of the angel’s share from a barrel. Still, a legend he is.

I’m the kind of person who likes to watch, to observe — you can learn a lot that way. Every time I see him at Buffalo Trace, whether he’s leading a tour or just passing through the gift shop and greeting the guests, he treats everyone the same — a wide, genuine smile, a warm greeting, and always a question about them. Are they enjoying themselves? Are they having a good day? He makes them feel special. And as he moves through the distillery grounds, you can see the faces of his fellow employees, who he is around all the time, just light up in his presence. It takes a rare kind of person to have that effect on people.

Can you imagine your name being included with the likes of Colonel EH Taylor Jr., George T Stagg, Albert Blanton, Orville Shuppe, and Elmer T Lee when listing those Buffalo Trace employees who are in the Bourbon Hall of Fame.  Well his is…... His name is right there with them as he was inducted into the hall in 2018……and is set to be inducted into the International Whisky Hall of Fame where his plaque will be hanging in a Scottish Castle next to other Whisky legends. His name…….. is Freddie Johnson. 

I’ve been lucky enough to meet Freddie a few times over the years. Every conversation leaves me with a smile and a warmth in my heart. That’s just his way. I’ve walked Buffalo Trace with him, soaking up his unmatched knowledge — from the science of distillation to the quirks of bourbon history. He knows it all.

While I took in a lot of information that day about Buffalo Trace and its history, the greatest lesson I learned from Freddie didn’t come from being inside the still or even in a rickhouse. It came from a story, a personal story for him — a story that changed how I see bourbon, its true value, and what really matters in life. It’s a lesson I choose to share with every guest I guide on the trail, whether we’re heading to Buffalo Trace or to any other distillery stop on the trail. Because this lesson goes deeper than bourbon. It’s about the value we place MOMENTS — and the people — who truly matter.

I guess the first real conversation I had with Freddie happened in the fall of 2023. I was hanging around inside the visitor center, just outside of the gift shop, waiting for my group to finish their tasting, when I felt a presence beside me.

“How you doin’?” came a familiar voice.

I turned, and there he was — Freddie Johnson himself. I introduced myself and we struck up a conversation. I mentioned I was a retired teacher and principal, and for the next ten minutes, we talked about my years in education and our commonalities with guests on the trail. 

It wasn’t long before another of my fellow guides, Jim, joined us and we all just swapped chit chat.  Then Jim asked Freddie to share a story that Freddie had told him about a month prior— one Jim had been retelling on the trail but wanted to make sure he got right. So, Freddie began.

A few months earlier, Freddie was leading a VIP tour for a husband and wife. The husband, a Navy SEAL, was preparing for deployment, and his wife had arranged the tour as a special way to spend time together before he left. It was meant to be a gift—one last shared experience before duty called him away. Little did they know that this particular MOMENT would be one they would never forget.

As they were moving through the distillery grounds and approaching Warehouse H, Freddie paused and mentioned that he needed to step inside—someone had specifically asked to see him. The couple, not minding at all, followed him into the warehouse, its towering racks of barrels standing like silent witnesses to the countless stories that had passed through its walls.

Inside, a group from Montana was in the middle of a barrel pick, laughing and enjoying samples from various barrels. Among them was a man who had been asked to come on the barrel pick by the group and was not going to pass up his chance to meet Freddie……..again.  As Freddie entered, the man stepped forward, his expression happy, but also, sincere.

“I’m sorry to interrupt,” he said, glancing at the couple before turning back to Freddie. “I don’t mean to take you away from your tour, but I came here today with one purpose—I need to ask you for a favor.”

Freddie, being Freddie, said, “Don’t worry about the interruption. What do you need?” The man said “Well, I don’t know if you remember me”.  Freddie looked at Jim and I as he was telling the story and said that he could not recall who the man was.

The man then explained that he’d visited the distillery three years earlier with his father, who was dying of stage 4 cancer. It was at that moment, Freddie said his mind clicked — he remembered. And then he relayed the events of that previous visit.

On that day 3 years before, it was close to closing time and Freddie was in the gift shop, chatting with coworkers as they were restocking shelves, when he saw a younger man helping another man (his father) through the door. As they approached the check-in desk, he heard the younger man say that they’d missed their tour time by two hours because his father had become ill on the way, forcing them to pull off the road until he felt better. And asked if there was anything that could be done.

The desk attendant, with sympathy, told them that unfortunately all the guides had gone home for the day — all that was left was to visit the gift shop. The son understood but was visibly disappointed. He mentioned that this was a bucket list trip of his father’s as Buffalo Trace was his favorite.

That’s when Freddie stepped in. “Hey man, why don’t you take your dad and go shop,” he told them. “Take your time and buy whatever you want. I’ll wait for you outside — and I’ll give you my own VIP tour.”

And he did — for a couple of hours, Freddie said “I took them all over and even showed them parts of Buffalo Trace most folks never get to see.

Now, we fast forward back, and the man told Freddie that his father had lived about a year after their day at Buffalo Trace and everywhere his dad went and whoever he talked to, he told them of his day at Buffalo Trace and what Freddie had done for them.  It was at this point that He then reached back to his backpack and began pulling out a bottle. 

“Our state of Montana gets one bottle of this a year and it goes into a lottery,” he said, and  “I won the lottery for it last summer.  If there was ever anyone that I wanted to open this bottle with and have the first pour, it was my father, but he is no longer here.  But because of what you did for us that day and how much you meant to my father, I came here today because I want you to open this bottle with me and have the first drink — in his memory.”

Freddie looked down at the bottle in his hands and a smile came upon his face. Looking up and glancing at the man he said, “Son, you understand that this is a $16,000 bottle of bourbon?” he asked, his voice carrying both reverence and disbelief. (You see, the man had won the lottery for a bottle of Double Eagle Very Rare). The man simply smiled and said “I know”. He knew exactly what he had in front of him.

As the moment settled, the man’s gaze shifted toward the Navy SEAL standing beside his wife. He had recognized the pin the man was wearing—one he knew well and asked if he was a SEAL.  “Yes, sir”, came the response.  Then the man said, well my father was a Navy SEAL and I would like you and your wife to join Freddie and I in celebrating the memory of my father. 

Realizing the significance of the couple’s visit, the man listened as they explained the purpose behind their trip—one last moment together before duty called him away. He understood the weight of it, the unspoken fears that came with deployment. Without hesitation, he extended an additional offer.

“After this pour, the rest of this bottle will be waiting,” he said. “When you return home from your deployment, you and your wife have an open invitation to Montana. We’ll pour another toast—this time, to your safe return.”

And in that moment, standing in the heart of Warehouse H, they shared the first taste of a $16,000 bottle of bourbon.

After Freddie finished telling the story, I was floored.  What a special day, special Moment, and memory for all of them.

A few months later, I found myself back at the distillery, this time with another group. They had arranged a special tour with Freddie, and when they asked if I wanted to tag along, I didn’t hesitate. There was no way I was going to pass up a chance to walk through the distillery grounds with Freddie, soaking up every drop of wisdom he was willing to spill.

As we moved through the heart of the distillery, weaving our way past bubbling fermenters, towering racks of barrels, and the soft hum of tradition echoing through the air, it was clear — Freddie’s knowledge was something beyond impressive. It was a lived-in knowledge as he grew up there from a little boy, it was layered with stories and meaning, like the char inside a well-aged barrel.

But then, we reached a moment that would define a life lesson I was reminded of that day, a lesson that came through bourbon and being delivered by Freddie and a lesson Freddie had learned from his father.

Towards the end of my group’s tour with Freddie, he paused and shared a story. If you’ve ever watched the documentary Neat, or been lucky enough to take Freddie’s tour, you might’ve heard it. But hearing it in person, with Freddie standing right there, added weight and warmth no film could ever capture.

At Buffalo Trace, tucked at the far end of the property, stands the smallest federally bonded rickhouse in the world. From the visitor center, you only need to look to your right, down the road toward the river, to spot it — a small brick building with iron gates standing guard at the door. Peek inside, and you’ll see a space no bigger than the average kitchen and dining room of a modest home. But resting inside is something far more significant: a single barrel — the millionth barrel, a quiet symbol of history and progress. Today, it’s the 8 millionth barrel that sits there, holding its place until the 9th eventually takes its turn.

Freddie’s story took us back to the day he and his brother stood side by side, watching their father, Jimmy Johnson, Jr., roll out the 6 millionth barrel. It wasn’t just another workday — it was a celebration, the kind that brings together distillery legends, bourbon royalty, employees from every corner of the grounds, and generations of families who’ve spent their lives here. Both Freddie’s father and grandfather had rolled out the millionth barrels going all the way back to the days when Albert Blanton ran the distillery. After the ceremony that day, Julian Van Winkle III — Pappy’s grandson and the man now carrying the Van Winkle legacy — handed Freddie a bottle of Pappy Van Winkle 23 Year Old. It was a gift meant for Freddie’s father, a gesture to honor the occasion and a lifetime of dedication to the craft.

Later, when the 3 of them returned home, Freddie’s dad told him to open that bottle. “We’re going to have a toast,” he said. It was a moment to celebrate. Freddie opened the bottle, poured each of them a glass, then instinctively reached for the stopper and placed it back in the bottle.

His dad gave him a look — one of those looks only a father can give — and asked, “Freddie, what in the world are you doing?”

Freddie hesitated, unsure. “I don’t understand,” he said. “You said we were celebrating, so I poured us a drink and I’m putting the stopper back in. This is a really, really good bottle of bourbon and highly sought after.

His father shook his head. “I know it’s special,” he said.

Freddie went on to explain to his dad, “I just thought we’d have a drink and save the rest for another day — for more toasts later on.”

That’s when his father leaned in, his voice soft but resolute. “Freddie, there will always be more old barrels of bourbon. But look at your brother, and me, and you…the 3 of us…. We are the fragile part of this.  Never put away the good bottles when you’re with friends and family. Bourbon isn’t meant to collect dust — it’s meant to be enjoyed, here and now, with your friends and family”

That day turned into something extraordinary. Freddie said that the three of them had never spent 3 hours together like that—just Freddie, his father, and his brother. No distractions, no schedules, just laughter, stories, and the warmth that comes from sharing both a glass and a lifetime of memories. 

Freddie, paused, smiled, and then said  “My dad told stories about my brother and I that we had no idea he knew, mom must have shared them with him…..and we told stories about dad that he had no idea that we knew as mom had let his stories slip to us. He said they laughed, they toasted, they finished that bottle and they connected in a way that only happens when time slows down and THE MOMENT becomes the only thing that matters. 

As Freddie continued, his voice caught in his throat when he told us, “Later that day, when I tucked my dad in, he grabbed me by the wrist and told me that it was one of the greatest days of his life.”

Nine months later, both his father and brother were gone.

Freddie doesn’t share his stories to make anyone feel guilty. That’s not his style. He knows how people are — always hunting for that elusive bottle, that rare unicorn, the trophy they can put on a shelf and show off to their friends. But what good is a treasure if it’s never opened, never poured, never tasted in the company of the people who matter most in your life? And then he ended by looking at each one of us and saying, “You see, the bourbon inside any bottle was born to be enjoyed. If people leave it sitting there to gather dust, they’re missing the point.”

So he encourages them, and everyone who crosses his path, to rethink what’s truly valuable. “Take that special bottle,” he said, “open it, share it with the people you love. Then take a sharpie, write their names and the date on the bottle. When the last drop of that special bottle  is gone, what you’ll be left with isn’t just an empty bottle — it’s a living history of all the people you’ve loved, all the moments you’ve cherished, all the memories you’ve made by sharing that special bottle”

Freddie looked at us with an endearing smile, his eyes full of conviction and warmth. “You see,” he said, “it’s never really about the whiskey. It’s about the people. The lives you touch. The connections you make. The whiskey — that’s just the byproduct of those great relationships.”

Thank you Freddie, for pointing out what truly matters in this life that we are in.  Like your father told you and your brother, we are the fragile part, and not just when it comes to tasting bourbon.  We should cherish each Moment with friends and family and share in life’s pleasures, as that is where true value lies.