There are days when I drive the loop around Keuka Lake, windows cracked just enough to let that vineyard-sweet air drift in, and I think…
We talk a lot about the wine.
The views.
The tastings.
The way the light hits the vines in late afternoon.
But we don’t always talk about what came before this moment.
And around Keuka… there was a before.
When Wine Was Already Here — and Then Almost Wasn’t
It surprises people when I say this, but Keuka didn’t become wine country in the last few decades.
It already was.
By the early 1900s, Hammondsport was bustling with wineries — not one or two, but many. In fact, historical accounts note that by the time of World War I, there were
twelve wineries operating in and around the village.
Twelve.
Just let that settle in for a moment.
This little village at the southern tip of a Y-shaped lake — what many of us still call Crooked Lake — was once one of the beating hearts of wine production in New York State.
But history has a way of shifting the ground beneath even the strongest roots.
Prohibition Didn’t Just Pause the Story — It Almost Broke It
When Prohibition arrived, it didn’t just close tasting rooms.
It shut down livelihoods.
Around Keuka, where so much of the local economy depended on wine, the impact was immediate and deep. Many wineries simply could not survive those years, and the ripple effects were felt throughout Hammondsport and beyond.
I try to imagine it sometimes…
Cellars going quiet.
Barrels sitting untouched.
Families wondering what comes next.
We often think of Prohibition as a chapter in American history.
But here, it was personal.
Gold Seal: When the Name Stayed, But the Place Didn’t
One of the stories that always stays with me is
Gold Seal.
Its roots trace back to the
Urbana Wine Company, established in 1865 — one of the early anchors of Keuka’s wine identity. Over time, it grew, evolved, and became a recognizable name far beyond this region.
But the original winery?
It
closed in 1984, even though the brand itself continued on.
And that’s something I think about often.
Because around here, place matters.
When the building goes quiet…
When the work stops…
When the people who made it what it was are no longer there…
A piece of the story slips into memory.
Taylor: A Giant That Couldn’t Hold On
If you grew up around Keuka — or even just spent time here — you’ve heard the name
Taylor Wine Company.
It was once one of the most important wine producers in the country, not just the region. A name that carried weight. A name that meant something.
And yet… even Taylor didn’t last in the way people expected.
After corporate changes and industry shifts in the late 20th century, the company declined dramatically. Historians have described it as the fall of a once-dominant Finger Lakes institution — one that helped define Hammondsport, and then, slowly, faded from that role.
I think that’s when it really hits you.
This wasn’t just about small wineries struggling.
Even the biggest names weren’t immune to change.
The Winery the Flood Carried Away
And then there are the stories that feel almost like something out of a Keuka legend.
In 1935, a devastating flood tore through Hammondsport. In the glen, an old warehouse tied to the
Georges Roulet Winery was destroyed — and barrels of aging brandy were swept out into the floodwaters and through the village.
Can you picture it?
Water rushing through the glen…
Wood splintering…
Barrels breaking loose and rolling through town…
By that point, the winery itself had likely already faded during Prohibition.
But its story?
It wasn’t quite finished yet.
Around Keuka, history doesn’t always disappear quietly.
Sometimes… it comes back all at once.
The Ones We Barely Remember
Not every winery left behind a well-known name.
Some are quieter now — like the
Glen Wine Company, which operated out of the old Mallory Mill in the late 1800s. The company is gone, but the building remains, holding onto that connection to a time when wine production was woven into everyday life here.
And that’s the part I find myself coming back to again and again…
There were enough wineries here once that some could be almost forgotten.
Not because they didn’t matter.
But because there were so many.
Before the Comeback
Today, we celebrate the wineries around Keuka — and we should.
They are beautiful.
They are thriving.
They are part of what draws people here from all over.
But they are also part of something bigger.
Because before the wine comeback…
there was loss.
There were empty buildings.
Closed doors.
Families who had to start over.
And yet — the vines returned.
the land held steady.
The story found its way back.
Why This Matters
Maybe that’s why Keuka feels the way it does.
It’s not just scenic.
It’s resilient.
Every glass raised here today carries more than just what’s in the bottle. It carries the memory of what came before — the wineries that built this region, the ones that didn’t survive, and the quiet understanding that nothing here was ever guaranteed.
And somehow…
That makes it all feel a little more meaningful.
So the next time you’re driving the lake road, passing vineyard after vineyard, I hope you remember this part of the story too.
The one that came before the comeback.
The one that reminds us that what grows here now…
grew from something deeper.
Stay Rooted. Stay Keuka. 🌿
