In 1987, Hugh Blackthorn, a third-generation cooper whose grandfather had barreled whiskey in Speyside before crossing the Atlantic, bought eighty acres of hollow land outside Lynchburg for one reason: the spring. Coldwater Hollow runs year-round at a steady 56 degrees, filtered through Tennessee limestone that strips the iron out and leaves the minerals in. It is, Hugh liked to say, "water that already knows what it wants to be."
He commissioned two copper pot stills from a Louisville metalworks, christened Maggie and Brodie after his grandparents, and ran his first spirit in the spring of 1988. The first barrels of Blackthorn Straight Bourbon weren't sold until 1992. He spent those years coopering his own barrels from new American oak, charred to a No. 4 "alligator" level, and stacking them in a rickhouse he raised from reclaimed 1940s warehouse timber.
Nearly four decades on, his daughter Eileen Blackthorn runs the stills, the mash bills haven't changed, and every drop still passes through Maggie and Brodie. We make less whiskey than we could. That's the point.