Bill Jones closes 65-year beer story

SANDPOINT — In the Jones family, the history of the last 65 years is chronicled in large part by the logos and advertising slogans of famous beer brands. This month, that history was punctuated by the sale of Bill Jones Distributing — a local legend for brew lovers, to be sure — to Odom Distributing and Centennial Distributing in a business deal that marks the end of an era.

For Bill Jones Jr., the transaction also closes the final chapter of a story that was begun, and mostly written by, his father.

Bill Jones never planned on building a beer distribution empire. In fact, the idea was foisted upon him back in 1951.

“His best college buddies owned the Bohemian Brewery in Spokane in the 1950s and they needed someone to sell beer in Sandpoint,” Bill Jones Jr., said. “So he started distributing for them up here.”

The next label to come on board was Hamm’s — a brand that came to be joined at the hip — well, head — with the business and its owner.

“That’s what he was known for,” Jones Jr., said, holding up a photo of his parents Bill and Joyce. “That Hamm’s hat.”

The stable of labels was further expanded when Jones added Highlander Beer, brewed in Missoula, Mont., to the catalog.

“I used to ride in the truck with him to go pick it up,” his oldest son recalled. “That was a long day.”

Before long, Bill Jones Distributing had two mainstay brands — Hamm’s and Olympia — and two local competitors with their own famous suds to sell.

“There were three big distributors up here at one point,” said Jones Jr. “Ray Eller had Rainier and Madsen Distributing had Lucky and Budweiser.”

Fast-forward roughly 20 years to 1987, and Bill Jones was the sole remaining beer merchant in Bonner County. His domain included several beers of note, but Budweiser had become the biggest seller by then. He kept the label for the next 13 years, until the powers that be at Bud decided that going with a larger distributor in the region might make more sense.

According to Bill Jones Jr., it was an example of the politics of beer companies — something his family had grown accustomed to by that time.

“A guy could write a book,” he said.

Losing Budweiser in 2000 could have meant financial disaster, but for the surprise ascension of another brand with younger beer lovers.

“Right about that same time, Pabst got popular, thank God,” Jones Jr., said. “PBR was our bread and butter.”

Whatever the brand, Bill Jones had a knack for grassroots promotion. He and his Hamm’s hat were regular fixtures in Sandpoint watering holes, where the owner had mastered the fine art of creating and cementing customer loyalty through the buying of rounds.

“That was part of sales — establishing relationships and making friends,” his son said. “But if you weren’t drinking a brand of beer he sold, he wouldn’t buy you one.”

Bill Jones Distributing was ahead of the curve in coming decades, when the advent of craft brewers started to erode the dominance of the giant labels. If anything, that trend has accelerated in recent years.

“We actually did real well, because we got an early start with some good brands like Sam Adams, Sierra Nevada and Fat Tire,” Jones Jr., said.

More than the brands in play, it was the people who made the business work, he added, listing longtime employees such as Billy Bopp, Bernie Beyer, Chris Irving and Casey Fournier; employees whose time with the business spanned decades running from the ’70s onward.

“They’ve been here a long, long time and they are the best,” said Jones Jr. “They’re what made our business successful.”

The same core group proved to be as loyal as they were competitive during the years when Odom and Jones were going toe-to-toe in the region. When Odom offered to hire them as part of the sale, most of the employees opted not to make the move.

In its heyday of the 1990s, Jones had as many as 15 people on the payroll. That number stood at eight when the distributor sold at the beginning of this month. The warehouse on Bottle Bay Road is now mostly empty, save for a couple of delivery trucks and some empty kegs stacked in the corners.

Its rich history, on the other hand, remains intact in the form of beer signs and marketing souvenirs dating back to the 1950s. Some of them are still top-of-mind, such as “Hamm’s — From the land of sky blue waters” or “Olympia — it’s the water.” Others depict less famous labels, like the pinup girl shown above the words, “Ohhh, Schmidt’s!”

For Bill Jones Jr., these items are pieces of a family history he shares with his brother, Kevin, his sister, Candy Tate, and his brother Jerry, who passed away last October.

“There’s a lot of history here — a lot of artifacts,” he said, adding that the collected memorabilia might end up as some form of beer museum. To that end, the siblings might have the perfect place to start with the contents found in a corner room in the building.

“There’s one more thing,” Jones Jr., said, opening a door and flipping on the light.

Inside, his father’s original office lies in state — a vintage slot machine against one wall, an ‘80s-era computer on the desk and framed photos claiming every inch of wall space. There’s Bill Jones standing next to Gary Cooper in one shot and smiling broadly alongside John Wayne in another. Sandpoint High School grad and football great Jerry Kramer poses with the owner in yet another photo — all the more poignant for his time as one of the beer distributor’s earliest employees.

With the warehouse building for sale, Jones Jr., is not sure where these treasures will end up. One thing he is certain about, though, is making good on his plans for he and his wife, Mary, to finally spend some time traveling and seeing places like the Grand Canyon and the Redwoods in Northern California.

And, after a career in the beer trade that he says started “at birth,” Bill Jones Jr., has no regrets whatsoever.

“At the end of the day, we were selling beer, right?” he said. “That’s a good job.”