Raise a cold Bud in memory of St. Louis' lost corporate headquarters

When the American press in general, and Barak Obama in particular, bemoaned the loss of Anheuser Busch ownership to Belgian InBev, European newspapers rang with accusations of protectionism. This is, of course, a common theme. The European media finds it difficult to believe that any American could be a well-educated internationalist who understands and plays competently on the global stage. I consider myself to be one such American, but I was in deep mourning the day of the takeover announcement. I grieved not because evil foreigners were buying our brewery, but because St. Louis was losing yet another corporate HQ. Another puncture in the civic economy would see more jobs draining away, leaving the Gateway to the West with more glorious history, more empty buildings and fewer of the top level corporate jobs that fuel a vibrant economy.

Admittedly, St. Louis was already on the downturn at my birth. Most historians say the slide began more than 100 years years ago when short-sighted river ferry owners blocked construction of a bridge over the Mississippi here, forcing the project upriver to a backwater in Iowa. Allowing another backwater called Chicago to become the midwestern hub for the new railways. Despite that spectacular piece of short sightedness, St. Louis was still a respectable corporate hub in my youth. Anheuser Busch shared the stage with TWA, who made St. Louis' airport a gateway to the world. Both McDonnell Douglas and General Dynamics ran their operations from here. Pet Foods fed people and Ralston Purina fed the nation's pets and farm animals. There was Mallinckrodt chemicals, Southwestern Bell Corp and a formidable group of local banks. All are gone, most acquired by out of town firms and downscaled to regional offices with fewer jobs and far less prestige. And of course there was the Globe Democrat; not a global enterprise but a venerable paper whose death as I graduated from journalism school had a direct impact on the shrinking job market that would eventually be a factor in my move away.

Against these gloomy musings, I decided a tour of the Anheuser Busch brewery in its final days of independent glory was essential. As expected, the tour is a demonstration of AB's mastery of marketing and public relations. Let's hope InBev recognises a good thing and leaves them to get on with it.

These days the entire brewery complex is behind gates and you have to take the tour to see anything. (In the old days, you could wander around on your own and pop into the Clydesdale stable with a sugar cube or two for the gentle giants.) A new visitor centre at the top of the hill holds a bright, enticing museum and a huge gift shop. Tours leave from there and take a meandering one mile route, all downhill, to show visitors the brewing process, the horses and the architecture. I've toured a (perhaps alarmingly) large number of breweries, distilleries and vineyards, but never a complex with architecture like this.

There's the turn of the century Clydesdale stables with their stained glass and chandelier from the French pavilion at the 1904 World's Fair. (The matching one is in the Adolphus Hotel in Dallas.) The brewhouse is a festival of wrought iron, custom painted tiles and more amazing chandeliers, these festooned with delicate brass hops. And then there's my favourite element, the larger-than-human foxes in German costume sitting on the corners of the bottling plant hoisting a beer. This is a remarkably beautiful set of buildings, all the more amazing given their prosaic purpose.

The tour is up to any lofty expectation. It's well scripted and well delivered by the cheerful and competent staff without falter. The pace is perfect, the jokes well placed, the facts delivered with colourful commentary. After finishing up at the bottom of the hill, a bus disguised as an old-fashioned trolley car returns you to the visitor centre where you get to sample two beers of your choice. No dinky sample cups here, but full glasses of anything across the product range. (Not much of a beer drinker, I was particularly partial to the new Michelob cranberry and raspberry beer, which tastes like the best of the fruit beers I've sampled in Belgium.) And it's all for free. Is it any wonder that the city loves its brewery, and that Midwesterners drink more beer per capita than any other region of America? Let's hope InBev's touch is as light as a low carb beer.

On another trip down a corporate memory lane later in the week, I ended up at the James S. McDonnell planetarium at the St. Louis Science Center. This was the location for a meeting with the X Prize, a non-for-profit organisation with deep aerospace roots that's a key partner in my company's marketing. We were treated to a private tour by the director, and I found myself on familiar territory. McDonnell Douglas was my first proper job, and I loved the place. As you'd expect from the naming, much of the glorious corporate history is reflected here, and I had a great time looking back at St. Louis' aerospace roots as well as my own professional ones. I was also mightily impressed by how much the museum has developed from the humble institution of my childhood. It's clearly one of the top museums in the country these days, and if I'd had a small boy in tow I'd have returned for multiple hours of exploration.

The growth of the Science Center sparked a bit of optimism in my civic gloom. Despite the departure of the big HQs, this museum has managed to grow into a top ranked institution. Curious to see what headquarters where still around to fund such things, a bit of research reminded me that AG Edwards, Edward Jones, Express Scripts, Charter Communications and Build-A-Bear all run national operations from here. It's not the old days, but it's respectable.

So whether it's in memory of the past or in hopes of the future, seems like there's plenty of reason to hoist an icy cold Anheuser Busch product of your choice. Like your correspondent, AB's brains may end up living in another country, but part of its heart will always be in its birthplace. That's real globalisation.