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(From its inception in 1934 the Burger Brewing Company had been a leader among Cincinnati beermakers in barrels brewed and sold, as well as one of the most innovative beer advertisers in the nation. As late as the early 1960s it was the largest brewer in the city, with a seemingly secure future. But like other Cincinnati breweries over the years, Burger was not immune from the pressures of increasing competition from national brewers and the rise in popularity of alternative beverages, most notably soft drinks. Ironically, Burger's very success in owning several soft drink plants, along with mounting sales losses in the brewing business, led to the decision by Burger management to close its more than one-hundred-year-old plant along Central Parkway in 1973. The Burger labels continued to be produced by a nearby rival, the Hudepohl Brewing Company. And although activity around the historic Burger buildings quickly subsided in 1973, several elaborate plans were developed to rehabilitate the old brewery, with varying degrees of success.) Cincinnati was left with just two independent breweries with the failure of the Burger Brewing Company in March 1973. The sudden death of the sizeable operation caught many by surprise, although there were indications even a decade earlier that the long-term survival of the firm was in serious jeopardy. Several corrective measures were undertaken to reverse mounting losses at Burger, including the drastic decision to replace its regular water source, but proved to no avail when the decision-making process served to hasten the demise of the brewery. After three decades of sustained sales in its target markets, Burger faced an inevitable slowdown in business due to intense competition by the early 1960s. The sales decline forced the hand of Burger management, particularly with regard to advertising expenditures, and in a controversial move Burger relinquished beer sponsorship of Cincinnati Reds radio broadcasts at the end of the 1965 season. Efforts to diversify into the soft drink business, in their success, ironically served to undermine the security of brewing operations, while labor difficulties further stressed the ability of the company to maintain profitability. Aware of a continued downward tendency in beer sales, and equally aware of the high attrition rate among small- to medium-size brewery operations nationwide, Burger management opted to try a radical solution in its efforts to reverse the losses of the early- and mid-1960s. After years of successful use of city water to brew its beers and ales, in 1968 Burger switched to the use of artesian spring water, drawn from a well located directly underneath the brewery, in what was described as a cost-saving measure to reduce expenditures. Burger staked much of its brewing reputation upon a successful reformulation of its flagship brand, and played up the unique nature of its use of artesian well water in full-page ads placed in area publications:
Water ... Artesian Water ... Water that has been locked in cold perfection
in deep down artesian springs. But over time it became evident that a sizeable number of area beer drinkers did not share the sentiments of Burger management. The move failed to save the firm a significant sum of money, and far worse for Burger drastically altered the character of its beers, in the process alienating untold numbers of previously loyal customers who quickly responded by abandoning the brew.
The rapid loss of its most important sales base severely tested the resources of the firm, which quickly embarked upon an austerity program to streamline operations and remain a viable producer. In a further effort to revive its sagging fortunes, Burger reintroduced in cans one of its original brands, Red Lion Ale, hoping to recapture some of its sales success from the past. But Red Lion alone could do little to save the company; in 1970 Burger took its common stock off the Cincinnati Exchange, an open indication of the increased economic shortcomings of the brewery. Teetering on the brink of failure, in 1972 Burger installed a new, state-of-the-art refrigeration system able to cool the entire brewery, the equivalent of 150 homes in extreme summer heat. At the same time a new advertising campaign (“Join the Flavor Revolution”) was developed in a last-ditch effort to convince consumers of the merits of its artesian water-based formula. Significant advertising money was alloted for the new promotion during the course of the year, including $287,600 for spot and network television commercials—compared with $55,200 for network television in 1966—$40,000 for spot radio advertisements, and $26,000 for billboards and other outdoor publicity, but to little avail. Despite closure rumors that began to circulate in mid-February 1973, on March 3 Burger management began negotiations toward a new labor accord with area brewery workers’ unions. But it soon became apparent that there was little room for bargaining. Increasingly aware of the precarious financial situation of the brewery, union representatives submitted a proposal on March 14 with provisions designed to reduce labor costs. In a further gesture of solidarity, brewery workers went on record with a pledge to support the brewery fully in its efforts to stay alive, but the combination of poor local beer sales and the success of the secondary Burger operation in the soft drink field proved insurmountable. After five years of generally unsuccessful efforts to reverse both the trend away from locally-produced beers and the effects of its shift to artesian well water, Burger quietly terminated its workers and abruptly ceased operations at 12:01 a.m. on March 16, precisely the moment when the contracts for some 140 employees from four union locals expired. Representatives for the company stressed that labor costs had nothing to do with the decision to cease operations, a remark echoed by chief union negotiator James Paradise when the closure was made public:
We asked the company to tell us what it would like, and they said it
doesn’t make any difference. Everyone knows they’ve had declining sales, plus competition
from outside companies. I guess they just decided it was not possible to reverse the trend. Burger president J.F. Koons Jr. explained that the decision to cease brewing at Burger was irrevocable, while soft drink operations among its four manufacturing plants and ten warehouses would continue as before due to their strong profitability, with annual sales increases of over $1,000,000 per year. Faced with the prospect of sustained long-term losses in the brewing field, Burger management opted to cut its losses and focus its full attention upon the successful manufacture and distribution of soft drinks, at the expense of the product which had kept the company in the public eye for decades. Bewildered Burger laborers, particularly the many who had worked at the brewery for decades and faced uncertain prospects for new employment, were less than sympathetic with the plight of Burger management. Aware that the union was willing to give considerable ground to keep the brewery open, numerous members of the Burger work force experienced a combination of confusion and bitterness at the suddenness of the closure, evident in the comments of one such longtime employee: I don’t know what the hell I’m going to do. I’m fifty-nine years old
and I’m not going to go out and get another job just like that. I can’t start over.
At the same time that Burger announced that it was leaving the beer business, the company and nearby rival Hudepohl jointly announced that Hudepohl had purchased remaining Burger assets, including trademarks, beer label and advertising rights, formulas, and packaging materials. Hudepohl executives openly lamented the demise of their friendly rival, and reiterated a commitment to the Burger brands with the announcement that production of Burger Beer and Tap Beer would continue at their Gest Street facility, although Hudepohl assumed no control of Burger brewery property and equipment. In its announcement Hudepohl officials noted their plans to “produce the high quality Burger products and to maintain the fine reputation which Burger held in the industry,” but over time Hudepohl transformed Burger Beer into an economy entry in its product line, given the established nature of Hudepohl 14-K as a premium beer in the Cincinnati market and the desire to avoid unnecessary overlap in its offerings; after several years of the production of Tap in a similar light, its manufacture was discontinued in the early 1980s. Given the extensive size of the moribund Burger facility, it was inevitable that major plans were formulated for its usage following the closure. Less than two years after the demise of the brewery, local entrepreneur Dick Schilling sought to turn the abandoned complex into a gigantic shopping complex. Schilling, who gained notoriety for having built up the Beverly Hills Supper Club in nearby Southgate, Kentucky into a premier entertainment center, first came up with the idea to redevelop the Burger site during a November 1974 flyover with a business associate. When further research yielded the information that 118 caves and tunnels ran underneath the complex, Schilling began to envision the property along the lines of successful retail centers such as the Chocolate Factory in San Francisco and the Air Base in Salt Lake City, while others drew a parallel with the underground city of Atlanta. But preliminary work on the project—including discussions with an unnamed major retailer to become an anchor for the new shopping center—came to an abrupt halt in February 1975, when city administrators raised concerns about the site, including specifics on the redevelopment plans and building codes.
In anticipation of the project, Schilling and his partner from the flyover, Cincinnati builder and architect Rudy A. Hermes, purchased the Burger facilities and formed a separate company, Anvil Inc., to administer the property, construction, and further development which was to lead to some 150 boutiques and several restaurants within the complex. In mid-September 1975 Anvil announced plans to apply for a building permit around October 1, and to begin remodeling work on 470,000 square feet of floor space close to the beginning of 1976. At the same time Anvil provided a detailed description of its intended use of the former brewery, including a main restaurant facility located near the former brewery entrance, with several smaller restaurants and drinkeries scattered across the complex. An old warehouse structure located north of Wade Street stood to be the first of four buildings to be renovated, into an international bazaar specializing in antiques and collectibles. After the warehouse project was to be completed, work was slated to begin on the former brewhouse, on the south side of Wade Street, and the brewery office building to the north, as the centerpiece of an exhaustive reconstruction effort scheduled to last five years and create additional shopping areas, business offices for the complex, and more office space for other interested parties. Further plans intended to convert the two below-ground levels of the brewhouse and main facade, constructed by the Windisch-Muhlhauser Brewing Company over a century earlier, into shops and small entertainment centers, with a double-deck ramp system under Wade Street designed to permit visitors to stroll leisurely through both sublevels. Despite the scope and detail of the plans, or perhaps because of them, city and state leaders opted to study the proposals further before giving final approval, under the premise that significant problems remained to be resolved concerning building codes, financing, and parking. After protracted negotiations with city representatives and the State of Ohio, renovation of the former brewery appeared on the horizon: building and fire code concerns seemed to be resolved, and financing difficulties likewise had been addressed by early 1977. But in an ironic and tragic twist, given the concern of city officials over compliance with fire ordinances for the renovated brewery, the project was derailed suddenly and unexpectedly on May 28, 1977, when the Beverly Hills Supper Club burned to the ground with a loss of 165 lives. The tragedy exerted a profound effect upon Schilling, and the entrepreneur soon lost all interest in further work on the brewery property. During the summer of 1978 the shopping mall idea met its formal death, when the sale of the former Burger holdings to the Pabco Fluid Power Company, a local manufacturer and distributor of hydraulic components and systems, was finalized. With the promise that use of the former brewery would generate fifty new jobs in the city, in late August 1978 Pabco received $1,000,000 in Ohio Industrial Revenue Bonds to help finance renovations and expansion of the site, and several of the Burger buildings soon were restored to meet new manufacturing needs.
In spite of the efforts of Pabco to improve the Burger site, the sheer size of the complex dictated against usage of all of the former brewery property, and several buildings were left abandoned, eventually to be slated for demolition. In November 1984 the Burger power plant was demolished, and the neighboring gray brick and iron brewhouse and Burger smokestack were torn down by early 1986 to make room for planned industrial expansion. After years of neglect and decay, the turn of the historic Romanesque Revival facade of the former Windisch-Muhlhauser complex came in 1993, precisely twenty years after its last service to the brewing industry. Structurally weakened over the years and infested with rodents, the brick building had fallen into disrepair during the late 1970s and 1980s, and with no further use foreseen for the structure, it was razed in favor of new development on the site. Among the former brewery edifices, only the Burger office building at the corner of Central Parkway and Liberty Street enjoyed a fate more in keeping with its origins: constructed in the early 1960s, the modern structure eventually was acquired by cross-street rival Schoenling, and in later years served as the main office building of the merged Hudepohl-Schoenling Brewing Company, the last surviving major Cincinnati beer producer. |
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