One half of the duo Doty Glasco talks about their collaborative installation, Valley of the Sun. I was commissioned by Oklahoma Contemporary to film and edit this interview with Joe. Be sure to read their accompanying blog post for more information.
Author: Dennis Page 65 of 180

Written by me for the Oklahoma Venture Forum.
What started with “poor decisions and lots of circumstances,” COOP Ale Works has grown into a company with a $20 million expansion plan at the former 45th Infantry Armory. Despite feeling like an outsider in the brewing community from not being a brewer himself, Daniel Mercer, CEO of Coop Ale Works, sees positives in his business-focused skill set.
“From day one, back in 2006 when Mark and J.D. and I met, one of my kind of tidbits and inputs was that we had the opportunity, in the research phase, to set a foundation for how we wanted to move forward and how diligent we wanted to be and how we wanted to run this thing,” Mercer said. “We were starting a brewery from scratch in a market that didn’t have a production brewery outside of brewpubs, which aren’t packaging breweries.”
One of the first challenges the COOP team faced was Oklahoma’s prohibitive alcohol laws, including 3.2 beer and the lack of availability of beer in grocery and convince stores. They collected data and feedback about what people in Oklahoma were drinking back in 2006. They knew Oklahomans had different tastes than what people were drinking on the coast or what people were drinking internationally. They did beer tastings in the back room of Cheever’s.
“We were interested in whether there was a receptive audience to craft beer that didn’t exist at the time,” Mercer explained.
They worked through the summer of 2006, brewing together. They then spent the next two years putting together plans, which included going to dozens of breweries around the United States. They visited with engineers, brewers, and financial people to investigate their methods of success, their histories and then built a strategy to launch COOP in the summer of 2008. They raised the initial capital, found their building, and then spent about six months building out “this little 5,000 square foot metal shack” over at 51st and Western, next to the 51st Street Speakeasy bar. They started brewing beer commercially on January 9th in 2009 and selling on March 3rd, 2009.
Now, the Armory project is going to consume Mercer’s time over the next couple of years. He believes it will create a massive economic impact in the city and around the State Capitol Complex. However, with COOP’s proven track record, raising the capital has been a challenge.
“Once you get into the core of it, we’re taking this brewery model, and we’re expanding it and adding other new businesses to our model that put us right back in the same boat that we were in 10, 12 years ago,” Mercer explained. “We’re getting into the hotel business or we’re getting into this culinary business that involves a taproom in a restaurant and a speakeasy and all these event support spaces that have culinary features and a pool club, bar. Banks have been interested but not receptive to the total deal structure and scale. It’s a large deal, and when you take a package to a bank that says you’re going to spend $36 million over 20 months, including the money we’ve already spent over the past couple of years in development, it becomes a scenario where virtually every bank is casting doubt, and then your solution, there, is to try to find alternative methods to finance your deal.”
Where others may have given up with the challenges Mercer has faced over the past two years – including modernizing a building built in 1938 with no functional plumbing, electrical or heat and air – Mercer looks for solutions from a wide assortment of resources.
“Luckily, I’ve got some historical background and tax credit work in historic preservation and, at least, exposure to deals like that and even participation and structuring some of those deals long ago,” Mercer said. “Capital can come from anywhere and it does come from everywhere. For us, in this particular deal, we’re not raising more equity, so that component of the capital stack just doesn’t exist for us. We have cash on the books that we’ve been using for development expenses over the past couple of years, and we have a number of other sources of capital in this deal.”
Mercer is excited about the opportunity in Oklahoma, for both investors to bring money in, and also for entrepreneurs to start to drive a focus around their industries.
“We spend a lot of time talking about diversifying industry in Oklahoma, and a lot of that talk is around, either, high-impact or high-level concept industries,” Mercer said. “Whether it’s biomedical research or autoimmune disease treatment or mechanical devices… things centered around the oil and gas industry that may be new technologies and hardware technologies. But there are also plenty of other industries that just aren’t near as sexy, frankly. And I think, in Oklahoma in particular, we’ve done a great job of focusing on our resources that we have. Particularly around the OU Health Science Center, around the oil and gas base that exists here and all the new technologies that have sprung out of that industry over the past, say, 20 years.”
Daniel Mercer will be speaking at the Oklahoma Venture Forum Power Lunch on Wednesday, April 8th, 2020. He’s been attending OVF since 2001 and encourages others to become a member because of the “direct exposure to a knowledge base and resources that aren’t highly-publicized in Oklahoma… and frankly anywhere.”
All Emma wanted was a relaxing bath after a long week, but her apartment elevator wanted to lead her down an impossible hallway.
The days and weeks had become a blur. The only reason I knew today was Saturday was because Becky posted a bubble bath selfie while holding a wine glass with the hashtag #SaturdayQuarantineQueen. I was going to copy my friend. As soon as I get inside my apartment, the bra is coming off, and then I’m going to toss my scrubs in the wash and soak in the tub until I’m a prune or catch myself falling asleep.
My apartment elevator was empty when I stepped inside. Good. I felt too gross to be around people. With all of the non-essential businesses closed, everyone was probably already inside. I pressed the button for my place on the 14th floor, which technically was the 13th floor, but thanks to superstition, my floor was labeled the 14th. Whenever one of my friends came, they would always make snarky jokes about being on an unlucky floor. Sure, the comments annoyed me, but I would welcome the remarks if that meant seeing my friends again.
“I would do anything to get life back to normal,” I muttered.
The elevator arrived. I heard a ding, and the elevator doors opened, but I stood directly facing the door, and they didn’t move. I pressed the door open button, but nothing happened.
A murky breeze tingled my back. The elevator was single-sided, but out of confusion, I turned around to find a dimly lit, curved hallway that was impossible to be there. This room didn’t fit the building’s design at all. The digital floor display read 13, which was impossible. I pushed the close door button.
Nothing.
I pushed again, and a voice whispered down the hall, “Emma.”
“Who’s there?” I yelled back.
“Emma,” the voice called to me, louder this time.
Something about the tone reminded me of my grandmother, but I wasn’t going to leave. Then the elevator dropped a foot like the brakes had lost their grip. Between two awful choices, I choose to hurl myself out. The doors slammed shut behind me faster than they usually would.
The faded red wallpaper of the hallway had seen better days, while the dome light fixtures along the walls seemed oddly modern to me. Not that I had any experience wandering down spooky hallways. The smell reminded me of the older parts of my college library I had explored for historical books.
I turned around to the elevator, only to find a wall.
“Guess I’m not going that way.”
I followed the curved hallway, looking for doors, but the hall kept spiraling downward. The voice calling my name got louder the further down I went. When I felt like I had traveled below the building, the voice stopped as I arrived in front of a stained glass window of the caduceus staff. I felt protected standing in the light of the two red snakes entwined around the golden-winged staff. Burning candles were placed around, like the Día de Muertos shrines I would set up with my family.
“Free me,” the voice begged.
“How?” I asked.
“Free me,” the voice repeated, weaker.
I sighed as I took off my shoe. Channeling my softball days, I threw the shoe at the window, shattering the glass.
The voice cried out in glee, “Yes.”
A ghostly woman with a sewage-like glow floated up and out from the window. The bandages wrapped around her were torn and tattered. Her face was brittle and mummified. She smiled, revealing no teeth.
The spirit charged at me, but a staff like the one depicted in the window struck her down.
“Not today, pestilence creature,” the old man wielding the staff ordered. He turned toward me and pointed at a door behind me that looked like my front door. “Go. Don’t give up the fight.”
The creature rose back up. “One of my sisters is already free. I can feel that you’re weak–it is delicious–and not many believe in you anymore.”
“Others will fight back, even if not in my name.”
The two fought as I ran for the door. I grabbed the handle and pushed the door open into my apartment. I slammed the door behind me, and, catching my breath, I collapsed against my barrier between whatever I experienced.
I was so ready for a bath.

This week’s short story was inspired by the following writing prompt: “Saturday night after a long week, you’re riding the elevator up to your apartment, it stops on your floor, and the back opens.”
I went back and forth on the ending of this story. I thought about having the scene end with the trapped monster smiling, but I wanted to end on a somewhat hopeful note. I hope you enjoyed this story and wash your hands!
Video interview with Bright Golden Haze artist Camille Utterback on writing software, rewarding play and making space for the body in a digital age. I was commissioned by Oklahoma Contemporary to film and edit this interview.