Celebrating the soul of the South Wedge and the Rochester Real Beer Expo

Chris Jones, the quiet force behind Rochester's best beer event, quietly passed away recently.

Christina “Chris” Jones reminded me of my mom. And no, not in a maternal sense. But in the sense that she was not someone to fuck with and if she said something needed to get done, she made sure it got done.

As a long-time Rochester beer writer, Jones (as her close friends called her) was always on the periphery of the beer scene for me. First, I learned about her quiet dedication to making Rochester Real Beer Week a reality about 10 years ago. She did this through her unrelenting efforts to recruit businesses and coordinate beer events across Rochester every June.

Photo: Christina “Chris” Jones (provided).

And then that same resolve guided the Rochester Real Beer Expo for a number of years after Beer Week faded away. She was the force that the Expo happen all these years (and even through a pandemic). Jones was content to stay in the background while goofy bastards like me, former Tap and Mallet owner Joe McBane, and current curator Rob Richenberg ate up the spotlight. None of this was possible without her kicking ass in the background, making sure the trains were running on time.

Jones, 60, battled cancer for four years. But you would never know it. She didn’t publicize her plight, because that wasn’t her style. Instead, she shielded the world from her struggle and kept her fight private. I only learned about Jones’s illness after her incredible husband, Jim Wolff, posted an incredible tribute on Facebook. He offered, plaintively, “Man plans, God laughs.” As was her style and completely on brand, Jones passed away earlier this month. I am gonna miss her dearly.

(An aside: Jim and Jones were the perfect comedic duo. Jim was the outlandish one, the character who demanded the most attention. Jones was the straight person, the one who shook her head when Jim said something dumb and needed to bring back to reality. They were a great team. And clearly, it was nothing but love.)

I wish I would’ve known about Jones’s battle, because I experienced what a motherfucker cancer is as it quickly took my dad last year. (Not that I coulda changed anything.)

I got roped into the Beer Expo (and initially said no) in late 2022 after original curator Joe McBane decided to step aside after a decade. My wife talked me into it. She made understand that it was a chance to put my stamp on an event I loved and an opportunity to champion the breweries (and people) I loved. But a meeting with Jones, Jim, Karrie Laughton (owner of Lux), John Roth (owner of the former John’s Tex Mex), Andy Cook (owner/brewer at Swiftwater Brewing), and the rest of the BASWA crew sold me. They helped me realize what a big deal this was and showed me how the neighborhood relied on the event. Curating the Expo for two years (2023 and 2024) still stands as one of my proudest accomplishments, particularly in the beer world.

And none of it would’ve been possible without Jones and her belief I could do it. Jones made shit happen. If something needed to get done, then it was gonna get done. Her eye for detail ensured that the Beer Expo remained the best event on the Rochester beer calendar. (I tried to steal a pic of her from her Facebook page, but her account is just filled with pictures of Jim and their dogs. Again, that’s her style. So I stole a pic of the Expo VIP glass from the first year at Innovative Field. I think Jones would’ve liked that.)

While maintaining a role as the chief instigator and coordinator for the Beer Expo, Jones also co-owned Historic Houseparts with her husband Jim and was really the heartbeat of the South Wedge neighborhood through her involvement with the Business Association of the South Wedge Area (BASWA, which was the beneficiary of Expo proceeds).

Photo: I stole this from Jones’s Facebook page, because I realize I don’t have a picture of her and neither does her own Facebook page. But it shows how she quietly occupied the background and got shit done. Just look at that master list of Expo vendors and brewery reps. Jones was also organized and prepared.

Historic Houseparts was founded in 1980 and Jones and Wolff took it over in the early 90s after frequenting the store as customers. Under their stewardship, it has grown and morphed into one of the coolest institutions and businesses in Rochester. Through its website, it truly maintains a worldwide audience and reach. But for locals, you can visit the South Ave. spot and find a cavernous room filled with 1,000 vintage doors or a wall full of door knobs. The business footprint now stretches across four buildings with the old 1890s row home as the heartbeat of it all. Salvaging items, merchandise, and supplies from pre-1940s buildings remains the calling card of the business.

Seriously, if you’ve never been in there, you should remedy that. That place is like a cross between a museum, gallery, and Pier One store. Anything and everything is available there for those seeking to preserve the character of an old home or add some charm to a newer build. (Insert SNL Stefon gif here, because Historic Houseparts has it all.)

Yearly proceeds from the Expo went to projects throughout the South Wedge. Jones and her BASWA compatriots are really the stewards of the Wedge. Without them, the neighborhood wouldn’t have the well-preserved quirks and character it famously exhibits.

I feel like I’ve used the word “quiet” or at least some variation of it a million times in this remembrance. But it really encapsulates Jones and how she went about getting stuff done. Planning the Expo every year is a Herculean task. I never realized how much went into it until I stepped up and served as beer curator for two years (coincidentally the first two years the event left the South Wedge and took up residence at Innovative Field, home of the Rochester Red Wings baseball club).

When Tap and Mallet closed, Jones and her crew realized the Expo couldn’t remain on Gregory Street. It needed a new home, but there really weren’t any suitable spots in the South Wedge. It didn’t make any sense to shut down South Ave. for an entire day. Once that realization came about, discussions shifted to parks in Monroe County. Organizers wanted to keep the event in the city of Rochester, believing that the city was an important piece of the event fabric.

Jones was the one who thought the baseball stadium would be a great venue. At first, I was totally against it. It just didn’t feel right to me and it didn’t have the character I envisioned. But Jones ultimately convinced me and the rest of the team. And sure enough, as she almost always was, Jones was right. Innovative Field was a perfect home for the Expo and attendees loved it. The concourse layout allowed us to space out the participating breweries and there the abundance of bathrooms meant porta-potties were a thing of the past.

The two biggest lessons I learned from curating the Expo for two years: 1. You gotta be organized and your spreadsheet is your best friend; 2. You gotta trust your team. If Jones said something would get taken care of, there was no need to worry about it, because it would get done.

Cook from Swiftwater and Laughton from Lux are collaborating on a commemorative beer to celebrate Jones. It’s still in planning, but I wouldn’t be shocked if it was a hazy IPA (Jones’s favorite) and I know proceeds will be donated to a worthy cause. If nothing else, it will give folks a reason to gather and lift a glass in honor of the soul of the South Wedge and one of the quiet heroes of Rochester beer.

With her passing, the soul of Rochester’s best beer event is gone. And the Rochester community is a little poorer because of that. Jones was the heart and soul of the event and really the driving force for the South Wedge. I only knew her for a short period of time, but she made an indelible impact on me. And I know I’m not alone in that sense. So if you can, raise a glass to Jones tonight and send out a hearty cheers for a live well lived. Here’s to you, Jones!