Reexamining the Jack Daniel and "Uncle Nearest" Green Story

Transcript

The Editorialist

It was a headline no right thinking whiskey marketer wanted to see—especially when the brand was on the precipice of a sesquicentennial celebration. But there it was, printed in the June 25th, 2016 edition of the New York Times, “Jack Daniel’s Embraces Hidden Ingredient: Help from a Slave.” In the middle of a distillery celebration year and at a moment when racial tensions were boiling over, it had to hit like a ton of bricks.

The article explained that the distillery was slowly shifting its story from giving a Lutheran preacher the credit for teaching Jack Daniel how to make whiskey, to giving it to its rightful owner, “a man named Nearis Green—one of Call’s slaves.” (utilizing the misspelling of Nathan “Nearest” Green’s last name from the 1880 U.S. Census). 

The Times’ writer Clay Risen admitted that the story of Nearest was built on oral tradition “and the thinnest of archival trails” suggesting it—”may never be definitively proved.” 

But the softening tone didn’t last for long, as he went on to recall injustices of the past using inflammatory language, stoking the flames sparked by the headline. Using broad strokes, he painted a not too rosey picture of America’s distilling past, and suggested the brand might be bringing the story to light, simply to get out in front of bad press that might look bad to younger drinkers. 

The tone of the article found its way into a myriad of copycat articles that circulated across the nation, taking pieces of the Times article and framing them in their own editorial voice.

Sadly, what could have been an educational moment that elevated a lost piece of history turned into an editorial piece based on historical opinion, high level stereotypes, and speculation on the distillery’s intentions. 

In a time of reactionary op-eds and politics, the story framing wasn’t unusual. And so, it came to be that the story Nathan “Uncle Nearest” Green found its first life in the world of the editorialist.

The Marketer

Enter Fawn Weaver, a serial-entrepreneur and bestselling New York Times author who was known for her books on relationships. Finding herself with an afternoon alone, while on a trip to Singapore with her husband Keith, she came across Risen’s New York Times article and began to read. She noticed something about the tone of the article and the photo with the story didn’t mesh. Here was a historic picture of distillery workers with a Black man front and center. Who was this man? And why was he sitting next to Jack Daniel, the founder?

She searched the internet for information about Nearest but information was limited. Then she ordered a copy of a book the article mentions as a source, Ben Green’s 1967 book Jack Daniel’s Legacy. Flipping through its pages, she was struck by how central a figure the Green family, especially Nearest Green was to the Jack Daniel story. She flew to Lynchburg, Tennessee, met with members of the community and interviewed Green family members, She toured Jack Daniel’s three times, but never heard the story of Nearest. Then she reached out to the distillery, while simultaneously doing research in Tennessee and at the National Archives in Georgia and Washington, D.C.

With new information at hand, she set up a foundation in Nearest Green’s name and created the Uncle Nearest brand. Then she contacted Clay Risen and gave him content for a follow up story. The tone of the second article shifted focus from accusation to the elevation of Nearest Green. He said Fawn’s research showed “how Green had not only taught the whiskey baron how to distill, but had also gone to work for him after the Civil War, becoming what Ms. Weaver believes is the first black master distiller in America.”

Sourcing whiskey from Tennessee distillers, she released three whiskeys and utilized her research to name them:

• Uncle Nearest 1820 denoted the year he was born.
• Uncle Nearest 1856 was named for the year he started working for the Reverend Dan Call, the man who at times was given credit for teaching Jack Daniel how to distill, as was Lincoln County distilling legend Alfred Eaton.
• And Uncle Nearest 1884, the year he retired.

Today, the 1856 and 1884 are the core of an expanded line of whiskeys, the brand has won numerous awards, she even brought on one of Nearest Green’s descendents, Victoria Eade Butler as her master blender. 

Fawn had successfully taken the story of Nathan “Nearest” Green into its second life—in the marketing world.

However, today the Uncle Nearest story is edging toward its third life, one built around modern litigation, as the brand is caught up in an ugly tug of war between receivers, the court, and a defiant founder. 

As a whiskey researcher and storyteller, it's a story that has been hard to watch. 

When I first encountered the Uncle Nearest story, I wanted to go deeper into it and reached out to Jack Daniels. To prep myself, I too read the Ben Green book. Like Fawn, I felt like I was getting a peek behind the curtain learning that the Wizard was pulling the strings out of sight. This revelation of a secret distilling world behind the founders and brands, was the inspiration for me to go into research the stories of women, the enslaved, farmers, families, and ancillary industries that had been under-represented in whiskey history. 

But when it came to the Nearest Green story, in the hot political climate, I decided to let others tell the story. After chatting with Nelson Eddy, distillery historian for Jack Daniels, I was put in touch with Fawn and we had an eye-opening conversation. She filled in gaps from her research and brought her energy and passion to the interview. I used pieces of it to frame my two season 3 episodes about Jack and Nearest. Then I used Ben Green’s narrative to dramatize the story of Jack and Nearest. It was enough for a beginner. I was getting the story out there and I felt I had accomplished my mission in building awareness with my audience.

Then, I went on my own research mission as I set out to write The Lost History of Tennessee Whiskey.” I spent a lot of time building up the forgotten history of Lincoln County, and traced Jack Daniel’s roots back to his grandparents Joseph and Elizabeth Daniel. I learned about his father Calloway and the plantation he owned and the numerous enslaved workers who tended his fields and kept his house running. 

Then it came time to dig into the details I had on Jack and Nearest. What I found was frustrating. So much of the Ben Green story wasn’t matching up with the timeline I was developing. I quickly learned the lesson that books built on oral tradition are greatly flawed—especially those that add in an element of aggrandizement and adventurous storytelling. I soon realized there was another life to this story, that of the historical fiction narrative.

Here’s the problem, when the primary source used by the editorialist and marketer is based on the faulty memories of human beings and people looking to enliven the story, their work suffers. It is a trap I fell into with my season 3, Whiskey Lore episodes. It’s easy to do.

So, when I released The Lost History of Tennessee Whiskey, it was my first opportunity to set this story straight, the best I could, using the limited information available. But it has bothered me ever since, that I have these two Whiskey Lore episodes out there, reinforcing a false narrative, based on Ben Green's version of the story, rather than the one I wrote based around my findings at the National Archives, in newspapers, and at the Moore and Lincoln County archives and courthouses.

So now, in an effort to pull the story back from the lore I reinforced, it’s time to challenge the old narratives and narrative structure and recast the story of Nathan “Nearest” Green within a timeline that fits the historical record.

Know that this is not an attempt to build up or reduce Nearest Green’s importance to the story of Jack Daniel or the whiskey industry. The fact is, the simple revealing of Uncle Nearest’s story, true to the timeline or not, has already opened the door to a deeper curiosity about whiskey’s real history. 

Instead, I want to bring the story away from editorial, marketing, and court battles and into the world of historical research, to see what parts of the story still hold when we line them up against the record.

It’s time to step back to 19th century Lincoln and Moore County, Tennessee and rediscover Reverend Dan Call, Jasper Newton “Jack” Daniel, and Nathan “Uncle Nearest” Green through a fresh lens. 

From Birth to the Arrival at Dan Call’s Farm

Imagine, if you will, a swimming competition held in the middle of the ocean. When the whistle blows, how do the competitors propel themselves in the water? How do you define a starting and end point? Perhaps that is why swimming competitions are held in pools, where competitors push off from a single point. In historical research, finding the side of the pool from which to start the judgment of events is critical in grounding research in a good foundation. And this will be made very clear with the Jack and Nearest story.

In my case, I wanted to build a timeline from the records I came across. I cut and pasted details from Newspapers, title deeds, Census Records, Federal tax books, and oral tradition—including the timeline introduced in Ben Green’s Jack Daniel’s Legacy book as well as a book called The History of Lincoln County Tennessee. 

Now, those last two resources are based solely on oral tradition—a concept I place little trust in. That isn’t to say they are full of fiction, they do provide names, dates and events that can aid in real research. But because they are built on word-of-mouth, human memory, and exaggeration, I tend to be cautious in my dependence on them. Newspapers, I also take with a grain of salt, unless they are producing hard cold numbers. As we saw with the Times article, newspapers tend to editorialize and push narratives (yes, even in the 19th century, actually especially in 19th century Tennessee) so their stories require a critical eye. Eventually courthouse records develop their own rabbit holes so oral tradition research is abandoned. But eventually, the historical evidence will become the bricks of our building, while the oral tradition will be the mortar that binds the story together—rather than the whole story.

One look at the Jack and Nearest timeline I developed and Ben Green’s hollywoodized story of the lives of Jack, Dan, and Nearest immediately falls apart.

First,  Green claims Jack was born on September 5, 1846. He goes on to tell of Jack’s leaving home because of his wicked stepmother Matilda and his being lost in the shuffle as the youngest of 10 children. So Jack moves off to live with neighbors Felix and Mulhulda Waggoner and a year later, he meets the Reverend Dan Call and move to his house at around 7 years of age or 1853 in Green’s timeline. Dan was of marrying age so lets conservatively say he was around 19 or 20. On the farm, Jack befriends 10 year old George Green, Nearest's son, in the days before he met the man Dan called “the best whiskey maker around.” Looking at Fawn’s timeline, assuming Nearest was born in 1820, Nearest would be around 33. Okay, get a picture of this group in your mind. In 1853, Nearest was the elder at around 33, Dan was 20, George was 10, and little Jack was 7. 

Got it?

Okay, now let's look at the historical record, starting with Jack. According to the 1850, 1870, 1880, and 1910 U.S. Census, Jasper Newton Daniel was born in 1849 (not 1846)---his grave actually says 1850. The month of his birth is a bit of a mystery, although the 1900 Census suggests it was in August, not September. Either way, the census records dismiss the 1850 date because his mother Lucinda died of typhoid fever in January 1850 according to the 1850 U.S. Mortality Census. So evidence is strong that Jack was born in August 1849.

As for the Reverend Dan Call's birth month and year, those are more straightforward. He was born to Joseph and Rebecca Call in May 1836 on the family farm along Louse Creek.

Nathan “Nearest” Green’s birth, well, that is a little more complicated. There are only two census records that track Nathan Green and his family. The first one is from 1870, where Nearest is listed as a 27 year old farmer, black, from Maryland, with a personal estate valued at $450, a wife Harriet (25), and four boys Louis (8), George (7), Jesse (4) and Eli (2). 

It sounds straightforward until you look at the 1880 census where Nearest is born in Tennessee and his age is written right on the line obscuring whether his age is 40 or or 60. 

Fawn Weaver went with 60 (thus calculating Nearest’s birth year as 1820) rather than the more logical 40. Then she chose his birthplace as Maryland from the 1870 census. 

For me, I just can’t ignore that 1870 record, saying he was 27. While that may be off by a couple years, it is more feasible than Nearest aging 37 years in just a decade. So I would put Nearest’s birth around 1843, but that immediately creates a problem Ben Green’s narrative built around Jack’s story—since he has Jack being born 3 years after Nearest. The 1880 interpretation of Nearest being 60 fits the Ben Green timeline better.  

So, why am I so convinced of the 1870 record? Well, if lets compare the other people in the record—Nearest’s family. In 1880, he is still listed as a farmer. And his family, to a person, only aged 10 years during that decade. Plus, listen to these ages and see if this sounds more like the family of a 40 year old or a 60 year old. His wife Harriet is the same age as Nearest—40, Louis (19), George (17), Jesse (14), and Eli (12). There were additional children including Martha (10), Morals (8), Edde (6), Charley (4) and John (under 1). Nearest and Harriet didn’t seem to waste any time growing their family, which would suggest they didn’t waste time starting it either. So I’m putting Nearest’s birth year as 1843 give or take a couple of years.

Now, let’s go back to that image you created in your mind based on Ben Green’s information. In 1853, Nearest was the elder at around 33, Dan was 20, George was 10, and little Jack was 7. 

Well, let me upset the apple cart again. Obviously 1853 is wrong. If Jack was born in 1849, he’d only be 4. He was an ambitious young man, but that’s a bit early to be leaving home to go work on someone else's farm. And if Nearest was born in 1843, he’d only be 10 years old…not quite the well-known distiller with a reputation as the best whiskey maker in the area. Again, don’t get upset. I’m not saying Nearest didn’t have that reputation, I’m just saying, I can’t see that reputation being there in 1853.

What we need to do is find out when Jack logically made his move to Dan Call’s farm—the place where he finally meets George Green and eventually Nearest. And if we are to believe the tale Ben Green spins about the events that occurred on the day Jack Daniel went to live with Dan and Mary Jane Call, then we might finally have our first real timeline anchor in this sea of confusion. 

As the story goes, when Dan and Jack arrive at the Call farm for the first time together, there is a desperate situation playing out. Mary Jane is in a panic because the Call’s baby Rebecca has crawled under a floorboard and she can’t reach her. To the rescue, little Jack Daniel, small in frame and perfect for the job at hand. He crawls under the floorboard and brings Rebecca to safety. All we need to do is find out when Rebecca Call, the daughter, was born and calculate out about 8 months, the time when a baby starts to crawl. Turns out, she was born on June 25, 1857, which would put Jack’s arrival to the spring of 1858. 

With this new information in hand, using 1858 as our point of reference and the dates we’ve now established for births, Dan now stands as the elder at 22, Nearest is 15, Jack is 8, and George Green was still at least 5 years away from being born. It is a clear case of what goes wrong when you rely solely on oral tradition without first grounding the story in hard cold historical evidence.

The False Start

When it comes to whiskey history as in life, there are two things you can count on—death and taxes. In the case of the Scots and Irish an entire industry built up and was formalized under taxation, with 1823 being an inception point for the modern industry thanks to the Excise Act enacted that year. In America, 1866 is a date that is born of both the ending of a Civil War and the full establishment of Federal whiskey excise taxes in the south. 

While several distilleries in Scotland trace their legal origins to 1823, in Tennessee, three distilleries claim 1866 as their origin date, including J.W. Kelly, Old Dominick, and Jack Daniel’s. 

But in the case of Jack, was this founding date the day Jack Daniel went solo, or was it the beginning of the partnership between Jack and Dan Call? Ben Green, Brown-Forman, and Fawn Weaver put the timeline of the Dan Call and Jack Daniel partnership back to the days of the Civil War. All three conclude that Jack acquired sole ownership of the distillery in 1866.

I have to say, the first time I interviewed Nelson Eddy, Jack Daniel’s historian, I wasn’t buying it. But I didn’t have any hard evidence to prove otherwise. Still, it didn’t make sense. Where was Jack, a 17 year old boy, getting the money to buy into a distillery? His father Calloway had died in 1864, leaving him in his dreaded step-mother Matilda’s care. My further investigation showed that after Calloway’s death, the family feared pillaging Union soldiers would steal all they owned and so they auctioned off their belongings, which left the funds locked in an estate battle at the courthouse. For a year, Matilda fought the courts for money to feed the family, while attempting to gain control of her dowry. The Daniel’s had no access to ready cash.

Ben Green, provides an explanation by pointing that Jack and his buddy William Riley "Button" Waggoner taking load after load of Nearest’s whiskey down to Huntsville, Alabama in a covered wagon. It was said they gave eggs to Union soldiers and then whispered under their breath that they had liquor to sell. Another story has them placing meat on top of their jugs of whiskey to get past Union patrols. 

Here is the problem with that theory. Green suggests Jack and Button met during Jack’s 10th birthday party, so that would be 1859. If they were encountering Union Soldiers, this would put these events after April 1862, when the Union took control of the Memphis and Charleston Railroad. Button and Dan Call both went off to war, with Dan and maybe Button going into Nathan Bedford Forrest’s escort cavalry unit, which formed in September of 1862, just months after the Union secured Huntsville. This doesn’t seem like enough time to raise capital to buy a stake in a distillery. Plus Nearest Green is still only 19 in 1862, so the veteran distiller narrative is still weak. 

There is another big issue here. How would Jack have legal right to be a part owner of a distillery, he wasn’t an adult. Ben Green suggests family friend Felix Waggoner took Jack down to the Lincoln County courthouse and had him declared an adult. Yet there is no record at the courthouse that validates this.

And the biggest issue of all is the turmoil at the Daniel household, which Green doesn’t really dive into. Thanks to a court ruling on November 20, 1865, Matilda, Jack’s stepmother, is given full rights to Callaway Daniel’s property, cutting the children out of the inheritance. And then, to add insult to injury, three months later she marries William Hinkle. Now the Daniels have two stepparents, not one. If Jack didn’t like Matilda before this…it’s hard to think what he thought of her afterwards. The marriage brought about a long legal fight pitting the Daniels vs the Hinkles. It’s a fight that wouldn’t be resolved until the next decade.

The reality is, none of this washes between the timeline, the player’s ages, and the narrative as written by Ben Green and the people like Fawn, Brown-Forman and subsequent whiskey historians who followed their lead.

Now, before you think I’m about to proclaim the whole story as simply lore and nothing else, there is a record in the Moore County Archives that validates one of the most impactful days in this saga—the day Jack Daniel and Daniel Call formed their partnership. 

And while I will eventually reveal the exact day the Daniel & Call Distillery was born, there is a greater question at hand—where is Nathan “Nearest” Green in all of this?

The problem with Nearest’s story is that, because there is no evidence he ever owned a part of the distillery, there is no recording of his work at the distillery, so we are, beyond census records, 100% beholden to oral tradition for his story. 

To bring him in at the logical time, we will have to continue using public records as our anchor, while filling in Nearest Green at the most logical points in the timeline. Yes, this means speculation, but I’m afraid it is all we have. 

Still, I’m quite certain, the historical evidence I’m about to bring to the table will create a compelling picture of the union of Dan, Jack, and Nearest in this story. And it will keep many of the overriding narratives alive, while adding plenty of meat on the bone to support them.

Finding Nearest Green

First, we need to cast out the elephant in the room. There is no record placing Nathan ‘Nearest’ Green as an enslaved distiller working under Dan Call or Jack Daniel in the way the modern narrative suggests. It may have sold New York Times digital subscriptions in 2016 and it may have added some southern Civil War context to Ben Green’s story, but Uncle Nearest was just too young to have earned a reputation as a skilled distiller while in his teens—unless he was a child prodigy. Which I won’t discount. But there are too many other pieces to this story that will render the Civil War story moot. Yes, Nearest was likely enslaved as a boy, but he was around 22 when full emancipation came to Tennessee.

As for Jack Daniel, his story takes an interesting twist—a twist that most likely led to his first meeting with Nearest Green.

Remember me saying Ben Green told of Felix taking Jack to the courthouse to be declared an adult in 1866, so he could own a distillery? Well, there is a courthouse record but it’s on March 2nd, 1868, and while Felix’s name is on it, it’s not about Jack being declared an adult. Instead, Felix Waggoner, Jack’s brother Wiley B. Daniel, and famed local distiller William Tolley laid down $3,000 to make Felix, Jack's legal guardian. Jack still wouldn’t be able to own a distillery, but a bigger opportunity opened to him.

You see, William Tolley’s son Ben was partner in a distilling operation, located in Lincoln County’s Civil District #2, which just so happened to be the same district where Dan Call’s farm was located. Ben Tolley’s partner in the venture was Colonel John Hughes, who gets a large writeup in Ben Green’s book—including an added note that Hughes once partnered in a distillery with Jack Daniel.

Are you starting to think what I’m thinking? Was Hughes and Tolley’s distillery located on Dan Call’s farm? Is this the convergence point between our three subjects? 

The popular belief is that Nearest worked for Dan Call as a distiller and this is where Jack finally met Nearest, but there is no record of a Dan Call distillery anywhere in the Internal Revenue’s tax books between 1868 and 1874, but there is Hughes and Tolley. We just need to confirm these two were operating on Dan Call’s farm.

The smoking gun appears in the Lincoln County title deed books on March 25, 1869, when Hughes and Tolley formally sign a lease with William and Dan Call in the 2nd District. William Tolley and Felix Waggoner gave the latter control over young Jack, so he could go to work with Hughes and Tolley, which was located on Dan Call’s farm. 

If that was the case, then was Nearest Green working for Hughes and Tolley while Dan Call was simply the landlord? We’ll never prove it 100%, but it all fits the record. It also makes sense that Jack Daniel would have jumped on board at age 19, first as possibly an apprentice to the distiller so he learned about the product, before moving on to become a salesman. It’s the same path Jack placed upon his nephew Lem Motlow many years later. The distillery will tell you that Jack took over after Nearest, but this doesn’t make sense to me. Distillery owners in that era were rarely behind the still, and Jack’s gift of gab, story weaving, and snazzy attire made him much more valuable in front of customers, rather than fermenters.

Another item that leads me to this conclusion comes from Ben Green pointing out that Felix Waggoner was the one to convince Jack it was okay to sell whiskey. Not make whiskey—sell whiskey. Now, if we want to, we can shoehorn in Jack and Button’s wagon trips down to Huntsville. It still fits. Union soldiers were all over the area after the Civil War, including in Huntsville and all over Lincoln County. 

It fits that Button would join in, due to the fact, he was an officer in the Lynchburg Masons, along with Colonel Hughes and Felix Waggoner. They were as good as brothers. 

What we are finding is that there are valuable nuggets in Ben Green’s book, they’re just out of step with time and missing shape and context.

The Rise of Jack Daniel
So I hear you asking, how does Daniel and Call develop out of this scenario?

Well, it doesn’t happen immediately and mostly thanks to the federal government. During the Summer and fall of 1868, just as the dream team of Jack and Nearest were united, changes to the excise law greatly restricted how distillers made and measured their whiskey. Moonshining was running rampant and Washington was angry about the lost revenue, so they came up with an incredibly complex number of taxes and regulations. 

Basically, Lincoln County distillers, who’d always relied on log stills and natural fermentation were restricted from letting their mash sit for the added days necessary for yeast to naturally ferment from sour mash, and stills required the addition of a tice meter to cut out any cheating. The meter itself cost $6,000, which was far beyond the ability of small distillers to pay. Hughes & Tolley tried to get by for some time, but soon found themselves in the less regulated rectifying business. Yes, it is possible Nearest Green spent time as a rectifier. By late 1869, Hughes and Tolley were struggling and Hughes went off to form a partnership in Lynchburg with John Eaton, the son of legendary Lincoln County distiller Alfred Eaton, another man who has been suggested as one of Jack Daniel’s mentors—and the man who according to legend, started charcoal mellowing whiskey as far back as 1825 in front of the Cave Spring Hollow, where the modern Jack Daniel Distillery sits. 

What Jack or Nearest would have done at this point is unclear. Jack was living with his sister Finetta, her husband, Felix Motlow and their little boy Lem. Nearest was listed in the census as a farmer, so he was likely spending time there—as the entire Lincoln County distilling community stayed mostly silent from 1870 to 1872.

But by early 1873, things began to stir on Dan Call farm. Corn was turning into mash and barrels were rolling again. Now listed as Tolley and Call, the distillery made headlines in the Lynchburg Pioneer, but not in the way they would have liked. “The large registered distillery and warehouse belonging to Messrs. Tolley & Call, about six miles from Lynchburg, in this county, was destroyed by fire on Thursday night, Ist inst. There were about 48 barrels of whisky in the warehouse and a good deal of corn, mash, etc., in the distillery, besides all the works belonging to the concern consumed in the conflagration. The loss is supposed to be estimated at between 8 and 10 thousand dollars. No insurance. All agree that the house was set on fire by some evil disposed person, and every possible means will be resorted to in order to ferret out the perpetrators of this foul and damning deed.”

Ben Green mentions Mary Jane’s dissatisfaction with the Reverend running a distillery. Apparently someone else felt the same. There is no evidence the perpetrators were ferreted out. However, it is interesting to note the distillery was described as “large.” 48 barrels doesn’t seem like a lot of whiskey, but the distillery had been silent for over 3 years. Plus aging whiskey wasn’t always a priority in a Tennessee culture that valued charcoal mellowing or leaching. Were Nearest and Jack in and out of work again?

Well, eventually the Eaton's partnered with Ben Tolley and Dan Call to restart the distillery. But just at they were getting things running smoothly again, on March 15, 1875, another tragedy hit. A terrific hailstorm caused major damage to Lynchburg's Tolley & Eaton distillery (not to be confused with Eaton, Tolley & Call) moving it 20 feet off its foundation and the storehouse at Colonel Hughes Lynchburg distillery saw 115 of its aging barrels of whiskey float down stream some 300-400 yards. Eighty barrels were recovered. The Herald and Mail had to ask "Are the elements going into the temperance business too?" 

Luckily the distillery of Tolley, Eaton, and Call on Dan Call’s farm survived the worst. But Tolley and Eaton were getting itchy feet and were making plans to move in another direction. What was Dan Call to do? 

Well, it just so happened that the best whiskey salesman in the area was interested in partnering in the distillery. Having finally seen the distributions of his father Calloway's estate settled a year earlier, Jack Daniel had become a cattle rancher using part of his $1000 inheritance to purchase a 140 acre farm in Moore County. Diversifying into distilling made a lot of sense for a cattle breeder. So on November 27, 1875, the papers were signed, and on the door of the stillhouse, situated on Dan Call’s farm along the banks of Louse Creek, wet paint proclaimed, Daniel & Call Registered Distillery #7. And with the federal government issues finally settled, they were free to distill their sour mash whiskey without a worry. 

Who was their distiller? Well, this is where Ben Green’s account begins to align more closely with the record. There is a good bet it was Uncle Nearest, who, according to Dan and likely salesman Jack Daniel, the best whiskey maker around. 

So I ask you. Did I ruin the narrative of the relationship between Jack Daniel and Uncle Nearest by placing it in context? Or do you feel just a little closer to the two men? What changes here isn’t the presence of Nearest Green—it’s the path and timing by which he enters the story. - Framework for further research.

What impresses me is the number of legendary Lincoln County distilling families Nearest work with, the Tolleys and Eatons, who went back to the origins of Lincoln County whiskey, Colonel Hughes, who became quite respected an prolific during the golden years of Lincoln County whiskey making, and of course, his relationship with Jack Daniel and the Reverend Dan Call. And the most amazing thing of all about this retelling, it shows Nearest could have been a part of all of those legacies, without ever having to leave the banks of Louse Creek. 

I’m Drew Hannush and this is Whiskey Lore

Whiskey Lore is a production of Travel Fuels Life LLC

Production, stories, and research by Drew Hannush

Want to dive deeper into the myths and legends of Jack and Nearest, then join me this week on Whiskey Lore’s Patreon for Jack & Nearest, Behind the Lore. I’ll reveal what the record says about Jack and Nearest’s friendship, his association with the Lincoln County Process, and there are so many myths surrounding the Jack Daniel’s story. Make sure are a member of the Speakeasy or Club 1897, to Behind the Lore bonus episodes, votes in our annual fan favorite pagoda awards, and extended interviews. I’ll be back with a new Interview next week and then in two weeks, Whiskey Lore will dive into Jack Daniel’s “first registered distillery claim” and find out were that piece of lore came from. 

Until then, Thanks for growing your whisky knowledge along with me, I’m your host Drew Hannush and until next time, cheers and slainte mhath.

Find show notes, resources, and transcripts for this episode at WhiskeyLore.org/episodes