Get to Know Bruce Russell & Wild Turkey’s Legacy

Depending on the family, “heritage” is a happy or hellish topic of discussion.

For Jimmy, Eddie and Bruce Russell, who distill and blend Wild Turkey whiskeys, heritage is weighty, multifaceted, honorable, a product of time and temperament. Bruce Russell views his family’s heritage with a balance of gravitas and excitement: the responsibility of making his grandfather (Jimmy) and father (Eddie) proud, and the chance to carry their bourbon-fueled torches around the globe.

But as he pointed out multiple times in our chat—originally to talk about the new Wild Turkey 8-year 101 proof bourbon release commemorating Jimmy Russell’s 70th anniversary at the distillery—grandfather and father continue to bear those flames. “Jimmy’s going nowhere,” he said repeatedly. Despite turning 90 in November, Jimmy Russell remains a daily fixture at Wild Turkey’s visitor center. “If he couldn’t walk, he’d have me wheel him out there.”

And though just shy of retirement age at 64, Eddie Russell, isn’t speaking of hanging it up—publicly, at least. A stout and phlegmatic former college football player, Russell rarely seems compelled to talk much to begin with, especially about himself. Keep reading and let Bruce Russell tell you about that.

Dad had never really talked to me more than 15 minutes! But he spent a whole afternoon with me. I thought, “Dad can speak in full sentences!

My first job at the distillery was in 2010 giving tours while I was in college at the University of Kentucky. Dad told me, “They need a tour guide. You’ll make $10 an hour, you're Jimmy's grandson, and so I think you'd be good at it.” After about a month or two, Dad came on one of my tours and then he took me aside and said, “You don't know a lot.”

But he wanted to teach me, so he spent a whole afternoon with me, like, four or five hours, taking me around the distillery, the bottling plant and warehouses, and explained to me the general basics of why we do what we do here. Dad had never really talked to me more than 15 minutes! But he spent a whole afternoon with me. I thought, “Dad can speak in full sentences! He's good at his job. He's passionate.” I didn't know any of this stuff.

Compared to Jimmy, Dad’s (quiet as) a church mouse. But once we got to work together, I got to know him. We got real close, and I started to hear stories about his life growing up in the industry.

Jimmy's pretty quiet at home, but I knew he was extroverted because I've been in public with him. If he's at a restaurant or at church or wherever, he's the life of the party. Sharing road time with him … that taught me who he was, and we also got close. That's the best part of the job. Jimmy, Dad and even my cousin Joann Street (Wild Turkey brand ambassador) … these are three of the most important people in my life now. And I would not have had a close relationship with any of them if it wasn't for whiskey.

...if Jimmy does not think that you're doing the best work, or you're not working your hardest, or you're not showing passion, then he doesn't want you around.

I was living in Austin, Texas, and had to make a choice: whether I wanted to do what Joann's doing or move back to Kentucky and work in the distillery. I ended up choosing to come back. (Jimmy and Dad) actually discouraged me from (working at the distillery). Dad knew that it's not always easy working with your family. Jimmy is this monumental figure, and I think for Dad, he didn't want me to have to do the same thing of following in his footsteps if I didn't want to.

You learn pretty quick when you're working at the distillery that if Jimmy does not think that you're doing the best work, or you're not working your hardest, or you're not showing passion, then he doesn't want you around. He doesn't care if you're related to him or not. He's so serious about that distillery that you really do have to prove yourself to him. That’s made me a better distiller, a better whiskey maker and a better person.

Jimmy's kind of beat it into my head over the years that we should feel very lucky to get to do what we do. We didn't start the brand. We didn't start the distillery. We're a right-place-at-the-right-time family, and we all feel like we've hit the lottery. We've got the best jobs in the world making amazing whiskey and getting to travel around meeting awesome people and sharing that whiskey.

When Jimmy started at Wild Turkey, he was in the lab as a quality person with Bill Hughes, the master distiller. (Jimmy became master distiller in 1967 upon Hughes’ death.) But Dad, he had it the worst out of all of us. He started as the bottom man in the union as a utility guy, a relief operator. Whatever needed to be done that day, that's what he did. Jimmy didn't even give Dad first shift. He made him work second shift.

What I've learned from Dad is hard work and perseverance. He worked at that distillery for 34 years before he had any type of a master title. And he had to work for Jimmy directly. I’ve never worked directly for Dad or Jimmy. My granddad was my dad's boss, which is crazy to me! Dad got a college degree while he was in the union to work his way out of the union. He paid his dues at almost every position in the distillery just to prove to Jimmy that he could start helping out with whiskey making.

Jimmy has a lot of sayings:

Do it right, or don't do it at all.
Never put out any whiskey you're not proud of.
Don't forget who you are and what you believe in.
Do things in a way that you're proud of and that you truly believe in.
Don't stray from who you are. Do it your way.

That's how he's lived his whole career, and that's probably the best advice he's ever given me. … Jimmy's going to be here every day. He’s an hour early to everything, and he stays an hour late. It's just who he is.

If it wasn't for those old guys, the world wouldn't know anything about our product.

I don't think that it changes a whole lot at the distillery once Dad and Jimmy are gone. From the ground to the warehouses to the distillery—they’ve put so much blood, sweat and tears into it. A lot of those union workers, the Campari folks in the company, the security people … they hold Jimmy in reverence. I heard a union worker say one time, “As long as there's somebody at that distillery who has worked with Jimmy, you'll never be able to get (Jimmy) out of the distillery operation.”

I'd be lying if I said I hadn't heard the same stuff (about the current American whiskey sales slump). For Jimmy and Dad, who both weathered the ‘80s and mid-‘90s, a little bitty blip, when we're already all doing so well … it doesn't really seem like a very big deal to them.

For Turkey, we're doing well. We're seeing huge upticks in business in certain parts of Asia that we're really excited about. There are parts of Europe, parts of South America that bourbon hasn't reached in the same way that it has in the United States, Japan and Australia. I just think that there's a lot more potential out there for bourbon to continue to boom.

Jimmy was the first of the old master distillers to start traveling to promote bourbon. …. If it wasn't for those old guys, the world wouldn't know anything about our product. … But Jimmy wasn’t just about promoting Wild Turkey, he was about promoting bourbon in Kentucky like he was bringing that to the rest of the world. I still think that a huge part of our job is to elevate the entire bourbon industry.