“We have Myers’s.”

If you were a rum enthusiast a few decades ago, you’d know this common refrain. 

You’d walk into a decent-looking bar in the United States, scour the back shelf, ask for an aged rum, and get that reply. 

For a long time, Myers’s was the loneliest rum, a nomad on American bar shelves, a solitary ambassador for Caribbean rum in a sugarcane desert. 

Click Here to read the full article on The Caribbean Journal.