Jerry Hartley

Born just west of Atlanta and raised in Birmingham, my character has been shaped with an appreciation of what it is to be Southern. I was fascinated by our Founding Fathers during high school and began to explore colleges with a Colonial or Early American foundation. I concluded that the University of Virginia, founded by Thomas Jefferson would be my college. What a place to experience our nation's great history. On the edge of the South yet still very Southern, Virginia is probably the finest public university in the country.

Like many college students, I learned about beer – cheap beer, but beer nonetheless. Eventually, I would graduate and was hired by a Charlottesville company where I had the good fortune of working for a Scottish boss. I can attribute my love of beer to his tutelage. Traveling across the country in the mid-90's, I tried the new offerings from many of America's burgeoning craft breweries and brewpubs.

Trips to Europe afforded me the opportunity to try the "forefathers of American beers." More importantly, I was able to see and experience "beer culture" in its most excellent example. At gourmet restaurants, quality beers were given equal menu space alongside Italian Chianti and French Cabernet. Not demonized, rarely abused, beer was intended as an integral part of a meal. In many cases, historically beer may have BEEN THE MEAL.

I found Trappist monasteries where modern day monks still practice the art of brewing. Chock full of vitamins and nutrients, beer is indeed a product of cereal providing nourishment, where more intoxicating alcoholic beverages like vodka are deficient. These Christian monks will fast for periods of time through their worship of God, with beer being their only nourishment.

I moved to Germany and was able to experience many things beer related (including the migration from Deutsche Marks to Euros). I immediately had access to most if not all of the world's best beer styles - Belgian Dubbels and Tripels, German Doppelbocks and Schwartzbiers, Czech Pilsners, Irish Stouts, Scottish Ales and English IPAs and Barleywines. The whole continent was such a fantastic place to explore these beers where you may stumble upon a castle or cathedral next to your pub.

I moved back to Birmingham in 2005 quickly realizing after a perusal of the phone book and local newspapers that we lacked restaurants that had both good food and great beers. With meager resources and lofty aspirations, The J. Clyde sprouted on Cobb Lane. It's a place I wanted in Birmingham. If I didn't own it, it would still be a frequent pit stop for me.