Story 1 - Tradesman’s Blessing

In 2021, after a couple years of brewing and experimenting with different additives and with how to increase ABV levels, Mel and I decided to experiment with Honey in our boil. We ended up perfecting a Honey Ale that had the ability to be an average Canadian ale ABV (~5%) or a high ABV ale (>7%) merely by adding extra honey to the boil (while still reflecting/honouring the original flavour profile). As the pandemic lifted, was re-restricted, lifted, and restricted again, we mustered-up the majority of our savings (which we had dog-eared as our first limb of change for the brewery) and invested it into the safety of our children by providing a second fire exit in our basement. This required us to enlist the services of a skilled masonry triads-person.

Down the road, a neighbour was taking down a chimney and a truck with a logo would pass by during our morning coffee once or twice before we walked 5-10 doors down to introduce ourselves. Within the week, Matt Voskamp (the owner of Heritage Brick & Stone Restorations) had provided us with a quote and scheduled time to cut egressed window holes into the back of our basement.

The next week was filled with evenings of digging, wheelbarrow loads of clay and dirt that we would “move at a later time” (the piles are still in the side and back of the yard *face palm*), and great teamwork between my beautiful wife and I as we sweat together and cheers with beverages that had solid honey notes for refreshment.

On the day Matt was scheduled for the project, he arrived alone with all his gear. His crew were assigned to another project that had urgency, but he was a man of commitment and his handshake meant something; so he was there to work! I had never done anything like this, but I called my work and was granted a vacation day to help Matt work.

When it came to lunch break, Mel made us both a sandwich, and I offered him a beer. As we sat, we shared stories of our lives, struggles with blending a family, the impacts of having co-parenting arrangements with kids whereby they are obligated to go between houses; houses that did not have the same morals, work ethic, and sense of what was humanely “fair”.

As the sun fell beyond the tree line, the project was more than finished! The holes were cut, the windows installed, shimmed, and secured…FAR MORE than I had expected. As such, I went to our safe to pull out our savings while he cleaned his gear and finished a half-pint of the same beverage.

When payment was due, he declined…All he asked was permission to pray for us. The quote I remember him saying was something along the lines of “I am in the business of rebuilding houses; it’s rare that I have the opportunity to help people rebuild their families and homes”. The conversation went on to discuss keeping dreams alive and maintaining hope that our family will, one day, be full of unconditional love, laughter, and warmth in our hearts.

That is where the name Tradesman’s Blessing came from…

Leading to the second part of this beer’s story…

In many parts of society, men are expected to be strong, supporters of the family, resilient to negativity, tough, and immune to the pressures of the world. In a previous life (about 5-10 years before I met Mel; not in a philosophical “different life”), I had a best friend that was like the older brother I never had. We would play Call of Duty, stand on the court with a beer in our hand while we watched our kids (and the neighborhood kids) run and play. Often, our dogs would be sitting at our feet and would move around us with expressions on their face that were identical to what, I believe, we both held in our hearts. Andrew Paulin was an angel sent to help guide me, protect me, care for me, and an irreplaceable best friend. Even today, tears flow from my face as I write this and remember how great he was.

But…Life changed…I made a decision, for the family I had at the time, to move away from Brantford, Ontario and I put my house up for sale. Understandability so, Andrew pulled away and our relationship began to fracture because both of our hearts were broken by that decision.

Years went on, visits became scarce or non existent, kids grew-up, and the Paulin family moved to farm land as Andrew’s dreams of retirement (from pipefitting and trades) came to fruition.

I would often dream of Andrew. He would enter my dreams, give me advice, we would share a laugh, and I would wake-up with a clear mind on how to solve whatever problem I was needing my big brother’s help with…But the text line seemed too far away to use; the phone seemed to distant to use to hear his voice in this life and this dimension.

And then came the ultimate heartbreak…The name “Sylvia Paulin” came through on my caller ID. Andrew’s wife had found the courage to do something neither Andrew nor I had the strength to do; she picked up the phone, with intention, and connected. But the news that was on the other line was not what any friend or family member wants to hear…

Over the years, Andrew had been struggling with mental health concerns. I don’t know what the root was, I don’t know how difficult it was for Sylvia, I don’t know whether I could have helped if our lawns remained connected, but I do know there are very few places and people for men to go and talk about their struggles. Often, our best friends are our partners; but we need to be strong in front of them and the family. Often, our friends drift, and it feels difficult to reach-out…And even if we did, what would we talk about? All the problems we are dealing with?! Poor finances? Issues with our ex partners? Problems at work? How a kid isn’t talking to us? Did we do something wring? Should our feelings be forgotten to repair the issues? - The oddest part about those questions is the answer is so easy…”YES”. It doesn’t matter what we are going through, we all need someone to talk to…and the more we bottle those conversations up and deal with them ourselves, the more the issue is perpetuated and adds to the load of stress. Looking back, it would’ve been so easy to call him…To unload my feelings and share the burdens with my best friends; my brother in soul…But, now, my burden is far, far greater. On that shelf of issues and emotions I don’t talk about is another jar…a jar labelled “Andrew”…A jar that, because of his suicide, I can never understand, change, or open. It will sit there forever, gathering dust, in his memory.

 

Leading to Tradesman’s Blessing…With the support of Mel, we have agreed that, when legally able to produce this beverage, we plan on donating profits from this line to Men’s Mental Health groups; specifically those focussed on trades and through trades-person organizations. We want to recognize the skills, spirits and generosity of Matt and Andrew, while preventing or minimizing the stigma of the strong, emotionless man’s-man.

 

Thank you for reading this…

~Nick