What More Could a German Heart Possibly Wish For?

Writing Barons, Brewers, and Bootleggers: A Social History of Beer in Missouri resulted in leftovers – sentences, paragraphs, and passages that interested me – but didn’t make it into the manuscript, such as these literary and cultural notes on early 19th century German beer gardens in St. Louis.

One challenge with writing a book, especially about history, is that you cannot include every detail, observation, and event. Otherwise, the book becomes bloated and meandering, an overwhelming tome with too much detail. In physical form, an overloaded book becomes a hefty paperweight that’s daunting to crack open and read. Out of necessity, the writing process involves deciding what to include in the manuscript.

Bob Seger has a succinct line in “Against the Wind” that has always spoken to me as a writer and as I have grown older.

Well those drifter’s days are past me now
I’ve got so much more to think about
Deadlines and commitments
What to leave in, what to leave out

Aging prompts its own form of editing. Along the way, I found that I have less energy and ability to accomplish as much even if the desire and ambition remains. More relevant, Seger’s character in the song feels the weight of life, pressing deadlines and commitments. As the years pile up, becoming self-aware and responsible means facing the necessity of making decisions. What fits and what gets set aside as time grows short? When you contemplate how to lead the rest of your life?

Sure, I’m taking Seger’s lyrics out of context when I think about writing and editing. The same principle applies, doesn’t it? You can’t do it all. You can’t fit it all in. Reality has limits, whether it is the number of years left or the practicality of publishing a book that’ll sell.

At one point during research and collecting material, I found a fact or tidbit interesting. Once potentially valuable, cuts needed to be made so the best material could shine. You prune, edit, make choices. Some of those leftovers remain interesting to me. 

For instance, I devoted a chapter to German immigrant brewing and beer culture. Not only did they bring brewing knowledge, but they also imported cultural traditions from their homeland. Tens of thousands of immigrants populated St. Louis and other cities in the mid- to late 1800s. They worked in breweries and relaxed in beer gardens, picnics, and family gatherings when they could. Music, food, and beer were part of the experience as they celebrated togetherness as a people connected to a social and cultural identity, even though their German-ness wasn’t monolithic, mind you.

The entrance gate for Schnaider’s Beer Garden, located at 2000 Chouteau Avenue, St. Louis, Missouri, 1910.

German-American newspapers celebrated the civility and social nature of German beer culture. 

In July, 1869, the Desplaines Hall Workers Club sponsored a picnic in Ogden’s Grove, a park in the Chicago metro, which was covered in the German-language Der Westen. The newspaper described the setting in idyllic language.

Sunshine, woodland green and woodland shade, the sound of horns! on a Sunday afternoon, what more could a German heart possibly wish for?!”––A good mug of beer!

“Fellow countryman,” I asked the cashier as he accepted my 15 cents, “would you have a drop of beer, too?”

“Oh, plenty!” answered the man from Holstein … “not to mention spirited company!”

You can find the full passage here, where the account relates a joyous, spirited gathering that’s worth reading. 

That passage brought to mind Carl Sandburg’s poem “Happiness” from the 1916 collection Chicago Poems. While published nearly 50 years after Der Westen’s ode to Germans picnicking with beer, the similarities in spirit and setting between Sandburg’s lyrical poem and the newspaper account are clear. Both captured how people of the time felt and acted in shared company.

Happiness

I asked professors who teach the meaning of life to tell me what is happiness.
And I went to famous executives who boss the work of thousands of men.
They all shook their heads and gave me a smile as though I was trying to fool
      with them.
And then one Sunday afternoon I wandered out along the Desplaines river
And I saw a crowd of Hungarians under the trees with their women and
      children and a keg of beer and an accordion.

– Carl Sandburg


Some of you might recall that I referenced Sandburg’s poem in the introduction to my book Kansas City Beer: A History of Brewing in the Heartland

Missouri had its own beer gardens, such as Heim Brewery’s Electric Park built in 1899. The amusement park and biergarten was located northwest of the brewery in the East Bottoms. J. Rieger & Co. distillery occupies that acreage and the former Heim bottling plant now. They established their version of Electric Park onsite as a tribute to the Heim family.

Band members seated at tables at Schnaider’s Garden, St. Louis, Missouri, 1910.

Of course, St. Louis had numerous biergartens and bier culture in the late 1800s before Prohibition. St. Louis magazine featured Joseph Schnaider’s beer garden in a 2020 article, for example, that provides a look back in time. For the sake of space, I didn’t reference specific beer gardens like Schnaider’s in my book, but two photos in this post provide a glimpse of the culture then. Sometimes German bands in full uniform performed for guests.

In Barons, Brewers, and Bootleggers, I write more broadly about this then-new cultural phenomenon to the city’s changing identity. St. Louis citizens encountered these foreign ways and some of them embraced the cultural shift, thanks to beer, but not everyone.

Today, modern craft breweries like Kansas City Bier Company and Urban Chestnut in St. Louis have not only championed traditional German beer styles, but also celebrated Old World culture through festivals and events. 

One chapter of Barons, Brewers, and Bootleggers: A Social History of Beer in Missouri explores the social, cultural, and economic impact of German immigrants, and delves into beer gardens and German beer culture. However, I made the choice to leave literary and cultural references cited here out of the book. Hopefully, this sample leaves you with a thirst to read more once the book is published. 

Próst!


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Pete Dulin is the author of Expedition of Thirst: Exploring Breweries, Wineries, and Distilleries Across the Heart of Kansas and Missouri, Kansas City Beer: A History of Brewing in the Heartland, KC Ale Trail, and Last Bite.

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