If you are a drinker of fine bourbon, odds are you’ve tasted the handywork of the late, great Ronnie Eddins. Ronnie was not a master distiller, but I claim his role was just as important. He, and his partner in all things smooth, Leonard Riddle, oversaw the aging warehouses at Buffalo Trace Distillery for decades.
Ronnie was my mentor and a dear friend. I think of him often. Ronnie lied about his age to start working at the distillery when he was 17. He was there for more than 40 years. He was one of the smartest, kindest and most humble humans you could ever hope to meet. No one knew more about bourbon—aging in particular—than Ronnie (except for maybe Leonard, but Leonard was a man of few words).
Thousands of barrels were filled, aged and dumped under Ronnie’s watchful eye. He treated each barrel like his baby and knew where every one of them was resting and how long it would stay there. He was a wizard.
I cherished every moment I spent with Ronnie. I always learned something. He always made me laugh and never failed to surprise me. Like on the way to WhiskyFest in New York City, where he was accepting a lifetime achievement award. He just casually mentioned he sparred with Cassius Clay back in the day. There was not a hint of bragging as he told this story. He just liked to tell stories and this was one of his. He also did some drag racing and was a high roller on a gambling riverboat.
Ronnie was money with a media interview. I tapped him for interviews regularly and loved seeing how he connected with everyone on a personal level. If a writer was not a bourbon fan when they showed up in Ronnie’s office, they were when they left.
It was always an adventure with each new story Ronnie would tell. I realize as the person responsible for PR, I probably should have vetted some of these stories beforehand. However, I quickly learned when dealing with people who had been in the distilling biz for decades, you just rolled with it. There was rarely a dull moment.
My favorite was the time a writer asked Ronnie about safety and his crew. Those guys are rolling around barrels that weigh more than 500 pounds, after all. Ronnie made note that OSHA guidelines were probably a good thing, as prior to those, multiple fingers had left the distillery on ice in a cooler. I understand losing a digit is not a laughing matter. However, Ronnie’s matter-of-factness combined with his gentle voice and the comment just coming out of nowhere may have made me snort. Luckily, he was not quoted on that.
Ronnie drank coffee from the moment he woke until the second he went to bed and never had a cross word for anyone. He loved his family fiercely—especially his grandson. His son followed in his footsteps and is a longtime distillery employee as well.
Ronnie was like a father to me. Every moment with him was gold. He made me love the bourbon industry more every time we spoke, when I didn’t think that was even possible. I can honestly say knowing Ronnie made me a better person. I hope someone will say those words about me one day. I can think of no better compliment. Next time you have a sip of quality bourbon, please do a little toast to Ronnie. I will.
