Firesides Distillery was born in a place where no one is supposed to drink at all.
In 2004, at the height of Operation Iraqi Freedom, our AC-130 gunship crew rotated into a “dry” forward base—a stretch of desert where tents doubled as home, gym, and ready room. We worked hard, we flew hard, and like any tight-knit team under pressure, we needed a moment to breathe together. A shared drink would have been the perfect release valve—except regulations barred every drop. So we improvised.
The Birth of “Hooch”
When brand-new concrete barracks replaced our canvas tents, one of our gunners, Dan, waved me into his darkened room. Suspicious of the infamous gunner sense of humor, I hesitated—until he climbed his bunk, pried out a ceiling tile, and produced a protein-powder tub rigged with an inflated blue surgical glove for an airlock.
“Sir,” he grinned, “it’s hooch. I’m handing off the recipe before we redeploy so the crew can keep it alive.”
Within days we were fermenting our own batches, passing the method along like contraband folklore. It didn’t smell great, and it sure didn’t taste like top-shelf bourbon—but it brought us together. Our legendary Super Bowl party that winter proved the point: a humble homemade spirit turned strangers into brothers and sisters, stress into laughter, and routine into ritual.
A Promise Made in a Barracks
Watching my teammates unwind over that outlawed brew, I realized what I wanted to do after the war: craft legitimate spirits that spark the same connection—minus the clandestine ceiling tiles. I started touring breweries and distilleries on every leave, studying grain bills and yeast strains the way other aircrew memorize emergency checklists.
Then tragedy cut the lessons short. Shortly after we returned home, Dan was diagnosed with brain cancer. Surgery gave us hope but not time; he passed in 2005 at just 39. His legacy, though, was sealed. Every batch we distill, every bottle we fill, carries the spirit he hid in that protein tub.
Why We Call It Firesides
A fire is where warriors have always gathered—whether it’s a burn barrel behind a hangar, a campfire on patrol, or the hearth back home. Firesides Distillery exists to rekindle that circle: to hand you a glass, invite your story, and remind us all that community is the finest proof.
So raise a toast with us—to Dan, to every fallen gunship crewmate, and to the moments that turn colleagues into family. May the flames of friendship never go out—and may the spirit in your glass carry them forward.