By Trent Modglin

Mike Tyson may not have been the most quotable of characters during his days of dominating the professional boxing world, but there was one comment he made prior to a title fight that had the potential to carry a deeper meaning for life, in general. 

“Everybody has a plan until they get punched in the mouth.”

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Emily Slayton, who owns Skeleton Key Brewery with her husband, Paul, and brother, John Szopa, had a paralyzing fear of tornados ever since she went to college in Missouri. At any sign of severe weather, she’d be the first one to grab the cats and go to the basement, where it was common for her husband to get her up dancing to Frank Sinatra. “Anything to distract me when a big storm hits,” Emily jokes. 

But on Father’s Day, 2021, her phobia became a reality, when an F-3 tornado ripped through west suburban Woodridge, the home of her new brewery and taproom. 

“It looked like someone had picked up the brewery and shaken it.” — Emily Slayton of Skeleton Key Brewery

Initially it looked like the tornado was traveling toward her sister’s house, and the brewery, which had been expanded months earlier, was more of an afterthought. That was until she went to look at the security cameras at the brewery and was able to watch the ring camera on the back door. Not good. Then some of her patrons who live across the street texted her pictures of a transformer that had caught on fire and spread to a nearby tree. “It just looked like the whole street was in flames,” Emily says.

“We saw the Pride flag we have inside was all bent in one of the photos, and that’s how we knew things were happening inside the brewery,” Emily describes, admittedly still getting emotional. “I laid down on the couch and turned on the police scanner, worried about our friends and patrons.”

Emily and Paul hopped in the brewery van and took the 10-minute drive over to see for themselves. What they found was that part of the roof had been torn off over their taproom, doors had been blown in, interior walls had collapsed and there was a chemical leak.

The fire department escorted her brother through the remnants of their creation, and he started shaking so bad they walked him back outside. 

“It looked like someone had picked up the brewery and shaken it,” Emily says, still thankful her brother was given the night off from prepping for the brewing process because they wanted him to relax on Father’s Day.

The trio stood in the parking lot and hugged and cried before heading home to drink a bottle of whiskey and the last bottle of their first-anniversary beer. Next on the docket: leaving a message for their insurance agent at 3 a.m. and organizing a Zoom call with their staff later that morning so they could hear the news from them.

“Everything centered on our staff, and that gave us something positive to focus on,” Emily adds. “It kept us from the ugliness emotionally.”

The next day they weren’t supposed to be inside the brewery, as the situation was all still very dangerous, but they needed to see it with their own eyes. What they found was a cooler that was still cold, a lot of raw materials unharmed, but everything they had built themselves was in shambles. And then the rains came. Four straight days of it. All without a functioning roof. 

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The Rutherfords initially thought maybe it was a kitchen fire, and they’d have to close for a month or so for repairs. Just 20 minutes later, it was clear it was going to be a total loss.

Karl and Marilee Rutherford, owners of Twisted Hippo in Chicago’s Albany Park — a fun, funky taproom and restaurant where they always encouraged folks to “embrace your strange” — have lived in the northwest side neighborhood for two decades. The venue was filled with vibrant colors and bold architectural details, the beer list and menu equal parts interesting and approachable, the atmosphere warm and accepting. Their goal was for people to always be themselves. 

Nothing seemed odd on that particular Sunday last February. It was an insanely busy day, and Karl and Marilee’s thoughts were on how they needed to add to the limited staff they’d had since the beginning of Covid because things were finally beginning to turn the corner.

But Deb, a regular who now serves as Twisted Hippo’s sales rep, lived a block away and called Marilee’s phone four times in a row, just before 4. a.m. There was awful news. The Hippo was on fire.

“We literally played rock-paper-scissors to see who was going to stay with our 18-month-old and who was going to check out the damage,” Marilee says. 

The Rutherfords initially thought maybe it was a kitchen fire, and they’d have to close for a month or so for repairs. Just 20 minutes later, it was clear it was going to be a total loss. 

“The whole thing was surreal,” Karl says. “You think you understand the concept of surreal until something like this happens. But it was a relief to know no one was hurt and it happened overnight, and to know we could not have done anything differently to change the outcome.” 

The blaze started in the apartment building behind them before jumping to a kids’ gym next door and then the brewery. All three buildings are long gone, but the cause of the fire is still unknown. 

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The day after the tornado, Mikerphone Brewery in Elk Grove Village reached out to tell Emily and the Skeleton Key staff that they wanted to start a GoFundMe campaign, but the Slaytons were dealing with survivor’s guilt.

“This is a business. We still have houses to go back to, and we’d driven around to see what happened to people’s homes around us,” Emily says. “Our hearts were so broken, and normally in a situation like this, we’d be offering our help to those folks. But we didn’t have the resources or the mental capacity to do that. It was a constant emotional struggle.”

Their general manager explained it best: Everyone really wants to help you guys, and sometimes you have to accept that help graciously. You’ve given so much to the industry and community, and this is people showing the love.

While the incredible gratitude was contrasted with a feeling of despair over losing everything they had created, Emily and her family decided the best way to honor the generosity was to accept the kindness and focus on their staff. The $135,000 raised, which the Slaytons still can’t wrap their heads around considering everyone was coming out of a pandemic, was used almost exclusively for payroll and a few bills. 

Their good friends at Misktaonic Brewery reached out immediately to help store any of their kegs, cans or perishable items. There was a drive-through sale to get rid of beer, shirts, pint glasses, anything they could find that wasn’t ruined. 

“Going through something like this makes you realize your plans for tomorrow could be completely rendered impossible. And there’s a value and strength that comes from being completely present in the moment.” — Emily Slayton of Skeleton Key

The Illinois Craft Brewers Guild stepped in to help, as did fellow breweries like Werk Force, Metal Monkey, Mikerphone, even PBR and a couple Nashville breweries that had been through a tornado years earlier. Collaboration projects were offered, and accepted. All told, they made beer with 13 different breweries over the next nine months to keep their brand alive and were able to open “Little Key,” a smaller temporary taproom on site from October-March, in an effort to find a sense or normalcy while working on all the construction. 

“It was essential for us to not feel disconnected,” Emily adds. “We really needed to feel like an active part of the industry. And realize our patrons wanted to see us.”

Still, the rebuild was tough, and her husband Paul underwent two back surgeries in the winter. While he was on the mend, they took a much-needed weekend getaway in February, only to see news of Twisted Hippo’s fire on Facebook. 

“Their situation was so much more extreme than what we had been through, but we knew what they were dealing with emotionally,” Emily admits. “I cried for them our entire last day of vacation.”

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Karl and Marilee Rutherford of Twisted Hippo

The response to Twisted Hippo’s fire was much the same as Skeleton Key. So many people in the craft beer industry — and their northwest Chicago community — reached out immediately to help, whether it was offering jobs to their staff, selling their beer, or just raising funds. 

Mikerphone, again, was there with a GoFundMe account, which ended up raising nearly $180,000. Eris Brewery and Cider House in the nearby Old Irving Park neighborhood, organized two fundraising events — one within a few weeks of the fire and then a bigger one later. The Rutherfords actually have a hard time remembering how many different fundraisers were held in all. 

And perhaps as meaningful as anything was a text from Emily at Skeleton Key, who didn’t want to bother them in the midst of the devastation, but was right there, offering a shoulder to lean on, or cry on. 

“We were trying to make sure we were doing the right thing without really knowing what the right thing was. There is no guidebook for this.” — Karl Rutherford, owner of Twisted Hippo

“I call it the world’s strangest mentorship,” a smiling Marilee says of Skeleton Key’s guidance through the fire’s aftermath. “We needed it more than you even know.”

In fact, as a type of future support system, Karl is working to create a disaster advisory committee within the Illinois Craft Brewers Guild.

“Breweries and organizations from all over the country reached out to us,” he says. “If I can help pay that forward in some way, I’m all for it.”

The Rutherfords started actively looking for real estate two weeks after the fire, almost as a distraction from dealing with insurance companies and figuring out how to take care of their staff and mounting bills. 

“We were trying to make sure we were doing the right thing without really knowing what the right thing was,” admits Karl. “There is no guidebook for this.”

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The Rutherfords have plans to keep Twisted Hippo in Albany Park. The community means too much to them to consider rebuilding elsewhere. But for now, they’re just grateful to be brewing again. In mid-August, they trotted out nine beers at District Brew Yards (417 N. Ashland in Chicago), where you can pour your own Beating Heart kolsch, Nom Wall hoppy pale ale and some of their other creative hits from years gone by. They’re also brewing at District Brew Yards’ new suburban Wheeling location, which opened earlier this fall. 

“We’re going to ramp up distribution once the smaller batch stuff is done,” Karl says. “We’re still juggling things a bit. This is definitely a learning process as we see how the recipes translate in a new facility.”

Meanwhile, in Woodridge, Skeleton Key’s taproom officially re-opened in June this past summer, nearly a year after the tornado ripped through. There were smiles, there were hugs and tears, and there was beer. 

“Going through something like this makes you realize your plans for tomorrow could be completely rendered impossible,” Emily Slayton says. “There’s a value and strength that comes from being completely present in the moment and doing what you need to do to be the best version of yourselves. I guess that’s the good change that was brought about with this.”

Skeleton Key’s rebuilt taproom