A Family Beer Empire That Spans Four Centuries
The Booms and Busts
The Evans family’s beer empire dates back to the 1700s.
Today, the Evans family stead is headquartered in an 13,000-square-foot industrial-chic perch on one of the most enviable crossroads in the Capital District. For the past 23 years, the Albany Pump Station has served as a magnet for craft beer enthusiasts looking for a cozy place to celebrate with friends, and ward off the winter blahs with rib-sticking comfort food by the Brachiosaurus-size (40-feet-tall!) fireplace.
But the Evans family’s route as entrepreneurial craft beer brewers has not been without incident or detour.
If you’re looking for a Disney version of the story of the classic family business, you won’t find it here. But if you’re thirsty for a draught of cheer, with a little bleak realism and a few rude awakenings alongside the whole hopes and dreams realized schtick, read on.
Setbacks, Part 1
The Evans family’s beers were beloved throughout the Northeast. They bottled their own beer and malted their own grain. By 1915, the team was cranking out 65,000 barrels of beer.
“My family had a successful brewing business in Hudson, from 1786 to 1922,” C.H. Evans Brewing Company founder, C.H. “Neil” Evans, explains. “But Prohibition killed it. They were able to hang on for a few years, but that was it.”
Empire over. (Sort of.) There are remnants, though, even today in Hudson.
Today, the original C.H. Evans Firehouse (funded by Evans’s great-grandfather) is home to Spotty Dog Books & Ale on 440 Warren Street in Hudson, and the owner, Kelley Drahushuk, is a descendent of the Evans family, and Neil’s niece. The Spotty Dog has become a regional favorite for its 10,000 titles—from popular to esoteric—art supplies, and laid-back bar vibes. And yes, C.H. Evans is on tap. But we’re getting ahead of ourselves.
Setbacks, Part 2
Evans, meanwhile, grew up and familiarized himself with his family’s place in America’s great craft beer history. He enjoyed beer. But he was focused on other things.
“I have always loved craft beer, but for most of my life, I had no intention to do anything with it professionally,” he explains. “I was living in Lake Tahoe in my 20s and 30s, enjoying life and skiing a lot.”
Evans worked as a craps dealer at Harrah’s “playtime is never over” Hotel and Casino in Lake Tahoe—who could blame him for wanting to stay in that lane?
“It was without question the best casino that has ever been, as long as founder William Harrah was alive,” Evans says. Harrah died in 1978. “In 1983, I was offered a job at what we were told was going to be Harrah’s Boardwalk Hotel & Casino in Atlantic City. My parents were getting older, and I wanted to move back East to spend more time with them.”
Evans took the job but soon discovered what he’d signed up for was completely different than the reality that awaited.
“When we got there, we found out that it was owned in part by Donald Trump,” Evans says. “And it was named ‘Harrah’s at Trump Plaza,’ not Harrah’s Boardwalk Hotel & Casino, which we were told it would be. Well, after six months, the name ‘Harrah’s’ came off the building, and within a year, we lost all of our fantastic health benefits, our 401K and our vacation time. Luckily, I had a lot saved up, so I hung on for another three years before quitting. Two years later, 1,200 of my co-workers and friends lost their jobs when the Casino went into bankrupcty.”
Evans embarked on a series of businesses that paid the bills but didn’t provide the sense of community or fun that his work at Harrah’s did. He worked for his brother, and then launched a profitable business selling cinnamon rolls in shopping malls. And then he had a revelation.
“I wish I’d had the revelation earlier, but I didn’t,” Evans says. “I was in my 40s, and I realized I wanted to make beer. I wanted to restart my family’s beer business.”
A New Dawn for Evans
As it happens, people love cinnamon rolls, and the great demise of malls had not yet begun.
“I made a lot of money off of those cinnamon rolls,” Evans says. “I enrolled in a beer-making class, and I got completely addicted to the process of making beer. I began competing and I did well. I realized there was a real potential to do something big.”
Evans hoped to relaunch the brewery in Hudson. But this was not the Hudson of 2023.
“This was in the 1990s, and Hudson was not an up-and-coming town at that point,” Evans says.
The pressure to invest wisely was on. As he toiled away at his business plan, Evans realized that he needed a community filled with people who had discretionary income and a potential thirst for beer. In other words, the kind of town that was filled with college students, university workers and government employees.
“I realized that Albany had a dream demographic for brewers,” Evans says.
He discovered an abandoned Pump Station, which was created to draw water from the Hudson River and send it under Clinton Avenue to Bleecker Reservoir. Built in 1874, it was in operation until 1932, when the Alcove Reservoir was created.
“I was finally able to get the city to sign on to my plan in 1997, and we were able to open it in 1999,” Evans says. “From the beginning, I knew we’d have to be more than a brewery. To be profitable and serve the demographic we were looking for, we’d have to be a brewpub.”
Evans hired a brewer but planned to have “a lot of input, and spend about half of my time on brewing projects. I had 60 employees, and 59 worked in the restaurant side. Guess where I spent all of my time and still do?”
That’s right, reader, the restaurant.
A New Dawn for Beer Lovers
While Evans may not cherish every moment he spends settling worker squabbles, dealing with equipment malfunctions and contending with supplier shortages, the loyal customer base he has created sure appreciates his eff orts.
“We were very successful right out of the gate,” Evans admits. “We’ve always had the support of the community, through ups and through some serious downs, like COVID. That almost killed us, but our loyal base helped us through.”
The industrial space looks factory ready—and in fact two massive overhead cranes built in 1906 and 1909, respectively, to repair pump engines, are still able to lift 20 tons each and were used to install the fermentation and serving tanks in the building.
There are typically 12 beers on tap, with a handful of core selections and several seasonals.
“Our two best-sellers today are the beers we first introduced 23 years ago,” Evans says. “The Brown Ale and the Pale Ale. The Brown Ale is still my favorite. To me, it’s food. I’m a malt freak, I could live on malts. This beer feels as hearty and filling as really good bread.”
Speaking of bread, what about the food?
“I am not a foodie,” Evans admits. “I’ve never tried to serve anything fancy. The things that do best on our menu, and that people return for again and again, are our mac ’n’ cheese and our burger.”
At the Albany Pump Station, simplicity rules. And not simplicity as an excuse for idiocy; rather, the elimination of clutter and excess, the curated paring back of the unnecessary.
Sit me close to the fire, under one of the broad windows, so I can warm my tired bones. Bring me a Brown Ale, and let its notes of chocolate and coffee wash over me. Pair it with a juicy burger, medium rare, topped with Brown Ale–infused mayo, fired shallots, applewood bacon and pepper jack cheese. And, yes, I will take that side of onion rings, thank you for asking.
Simply delicious.
What’s next for Evans?
“Well, I’d love to retire,” Evans says. “But I was 55 when I opened the business, and I don’t have children. My nieces and nephews are wonderful people, but they all have very successful businesses on their own.”
While retirement sits on the back burner, the Albany Pump Station is already in a prime place for thirsty students, workers and visitors on Quackenbush Square, and it’s about to get busier.
“We’re right next to the Albany Skyway,” Evans says, referring to a new elevated park reconnecting downtown Albany to the Hudson River waterfront, with access to the Empire State Trail. “Quackenbush Square just had a $1 million refurbishment project, and a long-delayed luxury hotel is set to open this Spring.”
Will the next chapter for Evans be a setback or a new dawn? After a pint and burger at the Albany Pump Station, it’s impossible to harbor dark thoughts. Fingers crossed for a new dawn that will extend the Evans legacy, and let this Evans sit down and enjoy a pint or two himself for a change.
C.H. Evans Brewing Co. at the Albany Pump Station is located at 19 Quackenbush Square in Albany. EvansAle.com.
