The Mistake of Change was in the Proof

     This episode begins a little differently than usual—with a dedication. After guiding more than 700 tours along Kentucky’s Bourbon Trail, I’ve learned that every once in a while a day unfolds that reminds me why I love doing what I do. Recently, a simple tour with a small group of strangers turned into something far more meaningful—a quiet story of a father and son, of patience and presence, and of the kind of moments we don’t always realize are precious until we’re standing right in the middle of them. Their journey that day left a lasting impression on me, and it serves as a powerful reminder that sometimes the greatest memories we carry home from the trail have very little to do with the bourbon itself.

     Change has shaped the rise and fall of empires, industries, and some of the most recognizable brands in the world. History shows that refusing to change can be disastrous—but sometimes the greater danger comes when a company changes something people already love. When a product becomes more than just a product—when it becomes tradition, memory, and identity—altering it can spark a backlash no boardroom ever sees coming.

     In this episode, we follow the journey of a determined husband and wife who set out to reinvent a struggling family whiskey legacy in the hills of Kentucky. Their bold choices, creative vision, and refusal to follow convention helped build one of the most recognizable bourbons on Earth. But decades later, a quiet decision meant to solve a growing problem would ignite outrage across the bourbon world—proving that once the public claims a legacy, even the people who created it may no longer control it.

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

I hope you will not mind…..but I am going to take a few minutes and start today’s episode a little differently than usual. I am going to start it with a dedication. It is a story that shows why I love doing what I do.

Out on the Bourbon Trail, I’ve guided more than 700 hundred tours now — hundreds of days spent welcoming folks into our great state, telling stories, educating them in the world of bourbon and helping, hopefully, turn a simple trip into a memory that sticks with them long after the ride is over.

Each tour is special in its own way…but every once in a while, one reaches out and grabs my heart — reminding me that sometimes, I get the the privilege of bringing a little joy into someone else’s life…that I get the opportunity to help make memories for my guests that will last the rest of their lives. 

Recently, on a public tour, I had the privilege of guiding a group consisting of guests from all over the country…and among them was a father and son.

The father is living with Parkinson’s now. Life moves a little slower. Steps are more careful. And beside him at every turn that day was his son — lending his hands to assist, quiet patience, helping his father in and out of the van, never rushing, never making it feel like anything other than love and caring from a son to his father.

The son had explained to me that he had spent years chasing a calling that demanded nearly all of his time. Like so many of us, he looked forward to when the pace of his residency would slow down so that he could make more space for the people who mattered most in his life. This trip to KY was a gentle promise kept — a choice to show up, to be present, to make the first of hopefully many more memories with his dad while the moments still belonged to them.

I watched as they wandered the distillery grounds together. Breathing in the Kentucky air and the sweet pull of aging oak and Angel’s share. Sometimes the father spoke. Sometimes he simply watched the day unfold — storing it away in that quiet place where the best moments live.

You see… we don’t always know how many chapters remain in the stories we’re writing with our family and friends.

We only know that the ones we choose to live fully… are the ones that stay in our minds for the rest of our lives

As we rode out to Buffalo Trace that day, I told the group my story called– The Promise: Lessons in Bourbon and Life with Freddie Johnson, which you can hear in Season 2. The son later told me that the story truly had an effect on him and his father as it summed up the meaning of their time together here in KY.

When we arrived back at the hotel at the end of the day, the son asked if I could wait just a minute while he ran inside. A moment later he came back out holding a bottle—one of two his father had picked up the day before at Old Forester. His father had enjoyed it so much that he insisted on buying more than one.

He placed the bottle in my hands and explained that his dad wanted me to have it.

He told me that when they first arrived that morning, they weren’t quite sure how the day would unfold. His father’s Parkinson’s sometimes made simple moments unpredictable, and they didn’t know how it might be received—by the group, or by me as the driver. But as the day went on, that quiet worry faded. The small moments of patience and understanding had meant more to his father than he had been able to say.

So the bottle was his way of saying thank you—for helping make their day together special, for offering a steady hand when it was needed, and for treating the day not as a complication, but simply as a day meant to be enjoyed together.

It was a kind of gratitude that lives in the quiet moments… the ones that somehow matter far more than words ever quite capture.

Tonight, as I pour a glass from that gifted bottle and share today’s legend with you, I find myself deeply grateful — not just for the bourbon, but for the reminder it carries.

Because the true gift is not what’s inside the glass.

Not that day. Not ever. It’s the hands we hold. The love we show in quiet actions and unspoken patience….The way we choose to be present for the people who matter most.

For a father and son that day, bourbon was simply the thread that stitched it all together — a reason to slow down, to walk side by side, to let a single ordinary day become something they’ll carry forever.

Time with the people we love is the one thing we’re always borrowing…and the one thing worth fiercely protecting. The memories we gather now…are the ones that warm us later.

So tonight’s episode is a dedication.

To Al and Adam — wherever you are —may you continue to find your way back to days like our day together..

Riding the trail…..Side by side…unhurried….fully present.

Because as Freddie Johnson reminds us all…the rarest thing we ever get to savor…isn’t the bourbon. It’s the memories we make from allowing time to slow down…and moments together…. to be what truly matters. 

Change.

A small word. Six letters. Yet it carries a weight that can shake empires.

For some, change sparks curiosity—How's this going to affect me? For others, it ignites excitement—especially when things have grown stale and a new direction feels like oxygen. But for many, change brings something else entirely.

Fear. Because when things feel balanced, familiar… change threatens to knock everything out of place. History has taught us that refusing change… can be fatal.

In ancient Sparta, they once stood as the most feared power in Greece—they were disciplined, dominant, and unbeatable on land. But while others adapted—building navies, strengthening walls, improving tactics—Sparta refused to evolve. They  refused the change. They clung to what had always worked. And when the world changed around them, they fell to those who embraced it.

The business world tells the same story.

There was a time when Friday night meant a drive to the local video store. And one chain ruled them all…Blockbuster—rows of tapes, DVD’s, late fees, neon signs glowing like modern temples. Then a smaller company came to the Blockbuster executives with a new, radical idea that they were having success with...what if people never had to leave their homes at all? Simply mail DVD rentals back and forth to the customers. The answer they got back from Blockbuster was simple: No need. We’re the biggest name in the business and people love coming to our stores.

Well the company behind the new idea was Netflix.

And today, Blockbuster exists only in memory.

Kodak tells a similar tale. They invented the digital camera—then they buried it, afraid it would threaten their film empire. Others, like Canon and Sony, they weren't afraid. And by the time Kodak realized the world had changed, it was already too late. And their name Kodak has faded away into history.

So yes—refusing to change can destroy you.

But here’s the part we don’t talk about nearly enough.

Sometimes… change IS the mistake.

Sometimes companies decide—confidently, logically, convincingly—that the future demands a new direction. And what they forgot… is that their product isn’t just a product.

It’s personal to the consumer.

In 1985, one of the most powerful brands on Earth decided its recipe needed an update. Sales were slipping. Taste tests suggested that the new version, their new formula, might win over a younger audience. So instead of simply adding something new to their product line… they decided to replace the old.

And the public revolted.

Phone lines lit up. Letters poured in. People stockpiled the original like it was being erased from history. Within weeks, that company, Coca-Cola reversed course, humbled by a truth they had underestimated: And ditched their idea of replacing the original and brought it back with the new name Coca-Cola Classic.  Today, their idea “New Coke”, no longer exists.

You see, in some cases, you don’t own a legacy once the public has claimed it.

A few months ago, I was walking the grounds of one of the Bourbon Trail’s most storied names, I was killing time waiting for my group to finish their tour. As I was waiting outside the gift shop, another tour group passed by and one of the guests asked a simple question to their guide—one that made the guide pause.

It was a question about changing the way things had always been done.

And in that moment, I was transported back  in time to a decision—made in this very distillery’s boardroom, backed by logic, justified by numbers—but sent shockwaves through the bourbon world.

It was a change so controversial…so personal…that it united fans, collectors, and bartenders in outrage.

Today, we tell the story of how a single production decision proved that in bourbon—tradition isn’t nostalgia.

It’s a line you cross at your own risk.

Today’s legend… is the story of the change that rocked the bourbon world to its core. 

William and his wife Margie were just beginning their life together—newly married, full of plans, and staring into a future that felt wide open. Like so many couples at that stage, they talked about stability. About meaning. About building something that might outlast them both.

William, you see, came from bourbon stock. Distilling ran through his family tree like limestone water through the fertile Kentucky soil. For generations, their surname had been attached to whiskey.

But there was a truth William couldn’t ignore. The whiskey his ancestors made was bad…real bad…. Not “rough around the edges” bad. Not “an acquired taste” bad. Just get it down so I can feel the effects…bad. His great grandfather’s bourbon burned. It bit. It lingered in all the wrong ways. And if that weren’t enough, most of the family distillery itself had been lost the generation before to fire—reduced to ash and memory long before William ever considered taking up the craft.

It was Margie who was nudging William to consider the family business. But he knew that If he was going to return to bourbon, one thing was for certain: He would not be reviving the past.

Margie agreed… If they were going to step into this business together, it wouldn’t be to preserve tradition for tradition’s sake. It would be to improve it.

So they started over. Not tweaking an old family recipe, heck they burned it. And not polishing a flawed legacy.

They sought advice from the best minds in bourbon—they talked with friends and confidants who understood both history and possibility. Names like “Pappy” Van Winkle at Stitzel-Weller. Carl Beam of the Beam family. People who knew what worked, and why it worked.

William and Margie began testing mash bills through baking loaves of bread relentlessly as waiting for distillate trials to age would take years. Grain combinations were tried in their recipe, discarded, revisited, and tested again. And  then slowly, a philosophy emerged.

Most bourbons of the time leaned on rye—a grain that brought spice, bite, and edge. William didn’t want edge. He wanted elegance. He wanted something smoother. Softer. Something you didn’t have to fight. Something similar to what his friend Pappy over at Stitzel Weller was flourishing with -- with his bourbons.

So he did something quietly radical. He removed the traditional rye. In its place: wheat...red winter's wheat. Corn for sweetness. Wheat for softness. Barley to bind it all together. A wheated bourbon—crafted not to intimidate, but to invite. Now they just needed a place to bring it to life as his family’s distillery was no longer an option.

Outside Bardstown, Kentucky, they found it: an aging gristmill located in the valley of rolling hills. Alongside was a spring water lake, it was a place with a forgotten distilling past thanks to prohibition.  It was called Burks Springs Distillery. Timeworn stone. The quiet trickling water of Hardins Creek flowed through the valley alongside. There was a sense that came over William and Margie…whiskey had once belonged there and lit onged for it again.

So…They bought it. And in 1953, William and Margie’s bourbon began flowing from the still.

Early success came from two forces moving in lockstep. William obsessed over the liquid—taste, texture, balance. Margie focused on everything else. The look. The language. The feeling. Margie created an identity so distinctive it bordered on defiant. A bourbon that didn’t shout—but didn’t apologize either. A brand that suggested confidence rather than demanded attention.

And it worked….until America changed. By the end of the ’70s, brown spirits fell out of favor. Vodka, Tequila and gin surged. Clear spirits were clean. Clear was modern. Bourbon was suddenly old-fashioned. Many distilleries closed. Others chased trends. But William and Margie leaned into belief. They believed in storytelling. The believed in a line that said everything it needed to say:

Our bourbon Tastes expensive… and is.

And while America drifted away, other parts of the world leaned in. Overseas markets kept William and Margie's barrels moving. Kept their stills warm. Kept their brand alive while bourbon quietly waited its turn.

Then—almost without warning—America came back.

In the late 1990s and early 2000s, bourbon wasn’t just rediscovered. It was desired. Coveted. Collected. Demand didn’t rise—it surged like a tsunami. But bourbon has a cruel truth at its core. Every barrel refuses to be hurried…it relishes in its time of aging, season after season. Every barrel filled today is a guess about what drinkers will want a decade from now. And after years of neglect from consumers, distilleries hadn’t guessed big enough. Supply was thin. Shelves began emptying faster than they could be restocked.

For William and Margie’s son, Bill Jr., and his son Rob, (who were now in charge of the distillery) the pressure mounted. They could make more to meet the demand—but that meant capital they wouldn’t see returned for years. More labor. More equipment. More time. And again, time was the one thing bourbon refused to give. So they considered another option.

Their bourbon had always been bottled at 90 proof. Always. Since William and Margie’s first batches. It was typically aged six to seven years, it was bottled by taste—not by calendar.

What if—just temporarily—they lowered the proof? Add water. Increase volume. Stretch what they had while they were waiting for the future to catch up. Taste tests showed little difference. Their panels struggled to tell them apart. Cocktails remained unchanged. On paper, it all made perfect sense.

And so the decision was made. Quietly. Logically. Confidently. Lower the proof from 90 to 84. Simple. Until the public learned the truth.

And when they did—the reaction was immediate and visceral. This wasn’t about alcohol percentage. It was about trust.

Message boards ignited. Reviews turned furious. Loyal drinkers felt like something sacred had been thinned—not just in strength, but in spirit.

Liquor stores reported phones ringing nonstop. Hundreds of calls a day. People scrambling to find bottles of the original. Even those who had never paid attention suddenly wanted in.

They were thinking that if people were this angry about it—it must be worth tasting.

The uproar was impossible to ignore.

And so Bill Jr. and Rob reversed course. The proof returned. The bourbon came back exactly as it had always been.

Was it a misstep? Or was it a planned masterstroke in marketing? Had Bill Jr. and Rob learned a lesson from Coca-cola and applied the same strategy with their bourbon.

Well we may never know what was truly said behind those closed doors. But the lesson was unmistakable—one learned years earlier by Coca-Cola, and learned here again: When a product becomes personal, change stops being a business decision.

And for bourbon drinkers around the world, that lesson still pours from William and Margie's brand the same way it always has—

A wheated bourbon, bottled at 90 proof, sealed beneath dripping red wax…

Maker’s Mark.

Thanks for tuning into today's episode...I hope you enjoyed the journey.  And if you haven't already, don't forget to hit that subscribe or follow button. I appreciate you joining me on this flavorful journey through time and taste....cheer's to stories behind the spirit.  

I am you host, writer, and producer....Travis Hounshell. If you enjoyed this week's episode, please help the show grow by sharing it with friends and leaving and rating or review on Apple podcasts, Spotify, or wherever you like to listen.  And feel free to mention a story you would love to hear in the future. 

Source:

1) Fred Minnick Website:  Maker's Mark Responds to Lowering Proof.   https://www.fredminnick.com/2013/02/09/makers-mark-responds-to-lowering-proof-interview-exclusive/

2) Maker's Mark waters down its whiskey, and Anger rises, by Michael Lindenberger...Time Magazine. (Feb. 12, 2013)

3) Chuck Cowdery Blog.  Maker's Mark on Proof Change..."Never Mind". (Feb. 17, 2013).  https://chuckcowdery.blogspot.com/2013/02/makers-mark-on-proof-change-never-mind.html

4) "Maker's Mark not lowering Alcohol by Volume after all", by Joseph Lord (Feb. 17, 2013). Louisville Public Media.  https://www.lpm.org/news/2013-02-17/makers-mark-not-lowering-alcohol-by-volume-after-all