It was a chilly February morning when I sat down with my cousin Bobby Mattingly, co-owner and operations manager of Moontown Brewing Company. During his high school years, Bobby would watch his dad, Pete, create unique homebrews five gallons at a time in their basement in Zionsville. As Bobby grew older, he became fascinated by the mysterious process by which four simple ingredients—water, hops, yeast, and barley (or wheat)—became beer, a drink cultivated for thousands of years. Originally procured in areas such as Egypt and Mesopotamia using wild yeast in the air, natives discovered that the fermenting process resulted in a unique taste and buzz. Beer was born. At a time when many water sources were contaminated, beer not only was used for social functions but also in an attempt to dispel harmful organisms that lived in the drinking supply.
Thousands of years later, the Mattingly’s had just finished winning a home brew competition in Whitestown, Indiana, just ten minutes from their home when they were approached by the town manager about a possible space to open a brewpub. Whitestown Elementary had opened in 1896, soon followed by the high school in 1915, and a gymnasium in the 1941. After a merger with Zionsville and Lebanon schools in 1963, the school and gym went vacant until one day the Mattingly family and a few investors purchased the downtown historic district space for one dollar, closing on the space in 2017. A full renovation soon ensued and on St. Patrick’s Day 2018, Moontown Brewing Company had its grand opening. In 2024, smaller locations would be opened in Nashville and Carmel, Indiana.
Two years before the purchase was finalized, a storm rolled through the Mattingly property and felled a large, 125-year-old white burr oak. As the restaurant began to take shape, the tree would live again, supplying all the wood for the tables, the bar, even the tap handles among other aesthetic features. Years later, the tables in the Carmel and Nashville location would come from this tree, with much wood to spare for future venues.
As Bobby and I talked about these early years, it was clear that his fascination with beer went far beyond the sharp taste and buzz it created. It became a space to bond with his Dad over new creations, and to find ways to relax and enjoy time with family and friends. Years after Moontown opened, he started to realize how the brewpub became that coveted “third space”, where people could come together, in celebration and commiseration, to process what life contained. With a mix of regulars and new patrons, Moontown quickly became not just a meeting space, but a harkening back to generations who had labored during difficult times so that opportunities like this were made possible.
As Moontown grew, it launched its Pint for Parks series, where over time all 32 state parks and reservoirs will be honored with a unique can. Now with 17 cans now into production, over 16,000 dollars have been poured back into the Indiana state park system, funding projects like a viewing area over Sugar Creek in Turkey Run State Park.
As Bobby and I reflected on all that had occurred over the last decade, and the link with thousands of years of brewing tradition, we couldn’t help but think about the way that Moontown had come to symbolize much more than a popular brewpub. From its founding in a historic place of athletics and education, to planks of felled wood that made up so much of its interior, to the philanthropic project to honor and preserve the statewide, natural treasures, it had become a place woven of temporal sophistication and hometown comforts.
Yet beneath the pride that Bobby felt in seeing this dream come to fruition, there was a deeper reality that ran like an amber current. For thousands of years, human beings had combined simple, yet timeless ingredients that all relied on the gifts of yeast and fermentation to create their brew. While people could tweak and alter the substance and process, they would never be its creators.
As a certified Cicerone, Bobby noted that while beer itself was the product of mysterious gifts, in order to create a robust, palatable brew, the gifts rendered had to be treated with great care and attention. Any ill-advised approach with sanitation, temperature, storage time, or packaging would result in a stale, even undrinkable quaff. Just like so many gifts rendered in our lives, it comes with a responsibility that if not heeded, will distort a gift into a curse, just like good brew turned into drunkenness slipping away from the blessing freely given.
In life, whether you are an 8-year-old boy or an 88-year-old great grandmother, we all desire newness, adventure, and connection that animates our authentic selves and releases the tension that life brings. At times, it’s a good brew with friends in a historic, natural place; at times, it might be a quiet walk together in the chilly, night air with a waning moon overhead. If the time-honored tradition of brewing and sharing beer teaches us anything, it’s that we depend on mysterious gifts of our life to provide us with novelty, renewal, and the joyous simplicity of a job, a hobby, a conversation, well done and well shared. Cheers to all who seek to use our gifts with care, and give back in return, so what is good is not just given its due respect, but is transformed into that which is so much better.
