The Ravine Find
On a quiet Sunday morning back home in rural Thornville, Ohio, 55 years ago, I joined Wirt and Judy Barrera—friends of my parents and our neighbours —for what we called a “dig.” Somehow the Barreras learned I had an early interest in antiques, a passion likely nurtured by my great-grandfather Ira Cooperrider and his daughter, my grandmother Carrie Blackstone, both collectors in their own right.
That morning, after we had walked a short ways through a fallow field just on the south edge of Thornville, we entered a wooded ravine and found the traces of a half century old dump. Among the twists of rusted farm machinery and kitchen appliances, I caught the glint of something reflecting the morning sun. Gloves on, I scraped away an inch or so of the hardened top soil around what appeared to be a small circle of darkened glass, and then below that, I carefully peeled away half a foot of earth from around the length of a fully intact glass bottle.
What I unearthed that day those many years ago was a pristine amber glass container embossed with the words “Belfast Malt Whiskey – For Medicinal Use.” It was crowned by a bold BM monogram. What a find! everyone exclaimed.
The bottle’s thick amber glass and pre-screw-top form placed it squarely in the 1890s–early 1900s, a time when whiskey was prescribed for everything from indigestion to nervous exhaustion.
The whiskey once held in this bottle was — as I learned later — marketed less as a spirit and more as a tonic. Produced in the late 19th century, it was a malt-based whiskey fortified with hops, intended to be smoother than grain spirits. Advertised for “nervous conditions,” indigestion, and general weakness, it was sold through pharmacies as a medicine rather than being poured in saloons. In practice, the 'medicine' straddled the line between remedy and indulgence (like ganja today), reflecting an era when alcohol was still widely prescribed by doctors as an actual treatment.
I've read how period advertisements for similar brands to the Belfast Malt, like Duffy’s Malt Whiskey, claimed it was “beneficial in old age, for illness and weakened vitality.” By 1907, federal regulators were already calling these medicinal whiskey promotions “gigantic frauds.” Belfast Malt Whiskey lived in that same cultural moment, sold as a cure-all in pharmacies across the Midwest.
Lucky for me, I developed a taste for straight whiskey back in the day, so this bottle carries meaning beyond the history. It has traveled with me ever since the early 70s, across decades and continents, a tangible link to my childhood and to the era before America's Prohibition in the 1920s and the introduction of municipal trash collection in the 1950s, back when rural ravines served as silent archives of everyday life.
The Collector’s Legacy
The second, shorter bottle in the first photo below, also amber glass and embossed, but with the added paper label, comes from my great-grandfather Ira Cooperrider’s collection, which was an assemblage of antiques and artifacts housed above his garage in rural Thorn township. Grandpa’s collection included dozens of period bottles and, literally, thousands of Native American stone tools and other materials he had gathered over many years.
This particular bottle bears the name of The Wendt-Bristol Drug Co., a Columbus pharmacy that operated, as stated on the label, opposite the McKinley Monument. With its cork top, prescription serial number, and illustrated label, it likely dates to the early 1900s, reflecting the transition from hand-blown to semi-automatic glass and the rise of branded pharmaceutical packaging.
Amber Echoes
Together, these bottles tell a story of medicinal whiskey practice, regional commerce, and my own family legacy. The taller artefact was unearthed when I was a curious teen, guided by neighbours who encouraged my budding passion for collecting. The other was preserved by my great-grandpa, a man who saw value in the everyday artifacts of Ohio’s past, and it was passed down as an heirloom. Both bottles now stand as amber echoes—reminders of where I came from, how far I’ve come, and what treasures and habits I’ve managed to hold on to along the way.
