Bristol Brewing Loses Josh Osterhoudt

Which left Josh, newly second-in-command, to fend for himself often. And fend he did, with the earnest good nature that made him always so willing and able. Some would call it trial by fire. We call it joining the family. And it worked, because Josh had something that doesn’t always come standard with a new employee: he understood the vision that drives Bristol Brewing.
Over the next eight and a half years, Josh continued to help push that vision forward with a gentle, steady hand, every move informed by his astounding ability to relate to people. To say that Josh was “good with people” is like saying the Pied Piper is “good with kids.” Josh understood human nature instinctively. Working for the brewery, this meant he was a master at smoothing out ruffled relationships, and opening doors we had thought were padlocked tight. And he was exceedingly deft at addressing the proverbial “sticky situation.”

Working within the brewery, this meant he rarely missed an opportunity to just talk. About how you were feeling, how things were going. Not with your job—but with you. And he never minded throwing in a hearty theological or philosophical discussion, either. Good for the soul.

Yes, Josh was good for the soul. Exceedingly easy to be with. No fuss, no drama. Infinitely ready with that laugh (no one will forget that laugh!). So at home in nature, on the bike. So devoted to his wife, Kristie. He seemed to exude an untroubled contentment with life and with whatever life handed him. I always hoped that was contagious.

It was Josh who taught my boys that it’s OK to have a water fight in the birdbath during Dad’s company meeting. It was Josh who gave me a key to the brewery. It is Josh who will be on our minds every time we raise a glass of Yellow Kite, his favorite.

And when we look up at his bike hanging in the brewery, we’ll remember not to lose sight of the vision. Right on, Josh. Right on.