That was Rolling Rock.
Rolling Rock definitely would make sense for the location. I just thought I remembered Hamms for some reason.
Rolling Rock was the favorite libation of my grandfather, who was a fairly well-connected bigwig in the local Democrat Party.
I remember walking into his kitchen one day in 1980 and seeing him at the table with this sullen, ashen look on his face. He looked like he had seen a ghost. I counted at least five empty green bottles there, perhaps there were more.
“What’s the matter, Grandpa?” I asked.
“It just dawned on me today that Carter is doing such a complete and thorough job of screwing-up the country that I have no choice but to vote for this Reagan guy.”
The first of many lifelong Dems to head for the exits. In his case with a little help from Rolling Rock.