Voodoo-Brand Beer Uproar Comes to a Head

The Texas hex on voodoo beer ended Wednesday. But my, what a flap it was.

It had everything. The occult. Imagined skeletons. A state legislature gone righteously indignant. A New Orleans brewery trying to make ends meet. And a can of beer that conjured up demons to the Texas agency in charge of alcoholic brew.

We’re talking Dixie Blackened Voodoo Lager beer.

Lest this frothy story be spoiled by its ending, let us turn to the beginning.

The voodoo lager, manufactured by the Dixie brewery in New Orleans, was banned from Texas last Jan. 11 by the state Alcoholic Beverage Commission. In a letter to the brewery, the commission said the voodoo beer was not being allowed in because “we feel this kind of label and name would be detrimental to the industry as would witchcraft and other cult organizations.”

The can has on it a swamp scene in Cajun country, with small animal eyes peering out of the dark blue dusk. The Alcoholic Beverage Commission also saw what it thought were skeletal remains in the picture.

Dixie President Kendra Bruno thought it was a joke when the somber-sounding letter arrived. But the laughing stopped in Louisiana when Texas liquor stores began receiving letters in recent days telling them to get Blackened Voodoo Lager off the shelves.

The calls over at the Dixie brewery started coming in like crazy. Bruno explained over and over that the can was nothing more than a tribute to the Cajun culture, that the beer was sold in 15 states and two foreign countries and that it is even served at Disney World.

Shocked, the Louisiana legislature wasted no time retaliating. Last Friday, it unanimously passed a bill that would have banned the sale of Texas’ pride--Lone Star Beer--in Louisiana.

Here is what the resolution had to say about Ray Hoskins, the supervisor of marketing practices for the Texas commission, who had the unfortunate job of sending that fateful letter to the Dixie people:

“If Mr. Hoskins’ inference that skeletal remains and the color blue are to be considered measures of cult activity, he would do well to travel about his native ‘Longhorn State’ where the state’s lone star reposes on a dark blue background.

“And if the devil himself were to visit the great state of Texas,” the resolution continued, “he would swell with pride at the preponderance of products labeled ‘Diablo’ and festooned with his horned and tailed trademark and he would be prouder still of ‘The Devil’s Backbone’ which provides such a beautiful vista in the Texas Hill Country.”

Dixie is the last beer brewed in New Orleans, once home to 13 brands. Bruno bought the label in 1985 but declared Chapter 11 bankruptcy in 1989. The new Voodoo beer has been a big seller for the ailing company.

In any case, Bruno also told the callers there was nothing dark about the beer, except the color of the can and what’s inside it.

Gypsy Valeu, the curator of the New Orleans Historic Voodoo Museum, agreed with that assessment.

“There’s nothing on the label people usually associate with voodoo--skulls, blood or Satan,” she said. “This whole thing is ridiculous.

“Voodoo beer is extremely popular in New Orleans,” she said. “It’s like you go to a bar and say ‘Miller Lite’ or ‘Voodoo.’ ”

Now for the conclusion of the tale, which took place Wednesday in Austin.

There, the Texas Alcoholic Beverage Commission decided to rescind its original order and allow the sale of Dixie Blackened Voodoo Lager in the Lone Star State.

Ralph Yarbrough, an assistant administrator for the commission, said the rules governing liquor labels weren’t specific enough to be sustained in a court fight.

“We don’t feel it’s in good taste, but New Orleans is another culture I guess,” he said. “This is the best free advertising Dixie has ever gotten.”