My dad would mostly drink Miller High Life, and upon occasion he’d pour me a cold one. He’d pour it into a shot glass for me. I still remember that shot glass, as it had a turn-of-the-century bar motif. To this day, I am still trying to find that shot glass so someday I, too, can pour a cold one for my son.
—anon
When I think of my dad and beer…my memory is of him during summer, standing at a grill with a can of Old Milwaukee. And it’s the 80s and he has a perm!
—anon
My father loved beer: growing up, it was always the center of the family get-togethers and always used in the cooking. specifically, bratwurst boiled in Leinie’s.
—anon
Even though my dad loves a good margarita and an occasional bourbon, he always has made it known that you can’t be a real man if you don’t drink beer. He first introduced me to Leinenkugel’s on a fishing trip in Wisconsin with my grandfather and uncle. Even now, when we go hiking out West, he loves to have a few ready in a cooler to slake our thirst after a long day’s hike.
—anon
My dad made his kegerator in 1970 by hand. If he would have lived until the 90s, I am sure he would have liked all the different beers we are blessed with today.
—anon
Today he is in his eighties and still loves beer. When my wife and I traveled to Minnesota from Florida for the Thanksgiving holidays, he surprised me with a growler of Flat Earth Angry Planet Pale Ale! It turns out he takes a “field trip” over to St. Paul on Thursdays and has his growler filled. My mom thinks that he is at the hardware store.
—anon
My fondest memory would happen to be at the age of three, a hot summer day out in the back yard. My father was swimming in our pool and happened to use my Little Radio Flyer wagon as a cooler for his choice of beer for the. Being the generous three year old I was, I felt it was my duty to share this glorious, cool, refreshing beverage with the whole neighborhood. So I took the wagon and went up and down the only side of the road I could be on and gave away the brew for free! The neighbors were always so kind after that. Needless to say, I don’t quite remember what the consequences for my actions were, but I have heard that story countless times in the presence of friends, family, and my future wife.
—anon
Every evening, he would cook dinner on the Weber grill, drink his Yuengling Premium, and we’d listen to Phillies games on the radio. He loved it, I loved it. Great memories!
—anon
My father is a football coach, and game day is a busy and stressful event. After the game, I always liked to be there as he left the locker to join his family and friends who were tailgating. Being the one to first hand him a well-earned beer and congratulate or console is a memory I cherish.
—anon
Whenever I came home from college, he always sat me down to have a beer and go over what was happening in my life. It had a bonding effect. By being able to have a beer and my dad not be afraid that I will be a binge drinker, I learned to appreciate it, savor it. Sadly he died in 1985, but to this day I stop by his grave, leave him a cigar and have a beer with him. I now am a homebrewer and brew with my sons, hoping they have the same experience I did with my dad.
—anon
Growing-up, my dad never was much of a beer drinker, however, whenever his beloved Steelers were playing, he always enjoyed a Rolling Rock.
—anon
