Post Updated: Full obit below, with comments from former longtime brewer Van Havig.

Monday morning, rumors started flitting through social media: Rock Bottom’s Portland brewpub, a downtown fixture for nearly a quarter century, had closed. It was listed that way by Google, and the website returned a “Page Not Found” warning.

Well, it’s true. I called to inquire and a cheery voice answered. When I asked if they were open, though, her tone changed to somber. “No.” When did you get the news, I asked? “This morning.” I gave her and everyone there my condolences. Three days after Lompoc Brewing announced its departure, we’ve lost another one.

Rock Bottom appeared at a time when brewpub chains were appearing as a national phenomenon. It was an important development for a industry in which “brewpub” often meant a grungy little space with offbeat (and often unreliable) beer. Along with Gordon Biersch, BJ’s, and Old Chicago, these chains offered suburban approachability and consistency within product lines. They were mainstream, glossy, and corporate—and they opened up craft beer to a whole segment of the population who would never enter those grungy indies.

Portland didn’t actually need a Rock Bottom, but it was the only brewery that could afford to locate downtown. It was largely ignored by the drinkers who’d already discovered and fallen in love with the Lucky Lab, Hair of the Dog, and BridgePort, but no doubt saw far more tourists than any of those breweries—along with office workers who stopped in for lunch and after work. When brewer Van Havig arrived early in its existence, Rock Bottom also became a more interesting brewery. Rock Bottom allowed Van to make beers that would appeal to a local market—critical because by then Portland was eons ahead of most places Rock Bottom had planted a flag.

Rock Bottom was acquired by CraftWorks Holdings, a parent company that has since acquired Old Chicago and Gordon Biersch. Havig stuck around for some months after the transition, but the new owners and the outspoken brewer didn’t see eye to eye. In the decade since, I have stopped in maybe twice and found the beer to be without much interest—though well-made. In a city of five or six dozen breweries, it was hard to find a reason to go back. The closure received quite a bit of attention online—seemingly more than Lompoc’s closure, despite the far more interesting beer at the latter. That may well reflect why Rock Bottom was a valuable component: it introduced a disproportionate number of new people to good beer.

I emailed Havig to see if he had any parting thoughts—and it was no surprise to see that he did. Below are some of his comments—astute and thought-provoking as always.

“So the thing I keep thinking is this - when I first moved back here in 2000 [note: Van moved around within the company], these are all the brewpubs in Portland I can remember*:

Widmer - pub closed

Portland Brewing- pub closed

Bridgeport - closed

Old World (became laurelwood) - closed

Alameda - closed

New Old Lompoc - closed [note: Lompoc’s name went through various iterations]

McMennamins - a bunch open

Hair of the Dog - open

Lucky Lab - open

“Checking the 2005 OLCC beer reports [I found this] addition*:

Laurelwood - sold most of it

Roots - closed

“And now the Rock Bottom. When I moved back here, I felt like I was brewing among giants. This was the big time. I was making beer in Portland F***ing Oregon! And now it's as if almost all of the giants have fallen. It's a little weird.”