The First Sip: Walt Disney World, Age 5 My grandfather was a man who enjoyed his brown liquor. He wasn’t a collector, a connoisseur, or a snob about it—he just appreciated a good pour. And when my family ventured off into the wonderland of Walt Disney World, leaving me in his care, he did what any responsible grandparent would do—he gave me a sip of whiskey to help me sleep. Now, some might call that questionable childcare, but I call it an introduction to the spirit that would eventually find its way back into my life.
Of course, at five years old, I wasn’t exactly dissecting tasting notes. It was strong, it burned, and I drifted off without a second thought. My whiskey journey, for the time being, had ended.
Round Two: College Days and Wild Turkey 101 Fast forward to my college years at Virginia Tech, home of the Hokies—fighting gobblers with a reputation for taking down whatever was poured in front of them. At that time, Wild Turkey 101 was the whiskey of choice for many. It was bold, high-proof, and—let’s be honest—not meant to be savored when your main goal was survival.
Shooting back a 101-proof spirit was a rite of passage, but one I didn’t particularly enjoy. My relationship with whiskey was once again put on hold.
Made with FlippingBook flipbook maker