I was recently told that Dublin Dr. Pepper is no more. I didn’t want to believe the news, and even insisted it must have happened recently because we had been there last year. As it turns out, we had been there in November 2010, not last year, and DubDP has closed. Big DP did it.
Pretty much all my life, I had heard Dallas area people praise Dublin Dr. Pepper, and even enjoyed – here and there – the fruit of their labor. If you don’t know what makes Dublin Dr. Pepper different, it’s the pure cane sugar they used to sweeten it.
I had also heard about the factory tours in Dublin, but never had been there. In a happy turn of events, we were driving through Dublin in November 2010 and made the good decision to stop for the $4.00 tour. Dublin is a small Texas town that maintains the best of small town America, and all that and more was presented in the factory tour. We learned facts and figures (amounts and dates, etc) of Dublin Dr. Pepper as we were led through the old bottler. Each tour concluded with each guest receiving a bottle of the sweet delight, so they could experience what all the fuss was about.
Perhaps it was the proper legal decision, but it’s sad – to me – that Big DP essentially put DubDP out of business. Unfortunately, the founder of DubDP didn’t have enough marketing foresight and limited himself to a distribution region that could be covered by a horse drawn wagon in a single day, a 44-mile radius around Dublin. The result of this limited distribution circle meant at least a few things that would eventually lead to BigDP essentially pulling the plug on DubDP:
- Only a small number of people would ever be able to drink DubDP.
- Among those small number of customers, were satisfied customers that came up with creative ways to market the drink outside the distribution circle.
- Too much DubDP showed up in BigDP’s other distribution areas, which led to lawyers getting involved, which led to the end of DubDP as a label. BigDP will continue to produce sugar-sweetened DP for the DubDP distribution radius, but something tells me it will be different, and I mean more than just the label.
I haven’t decided if I’ll continue to drink a DP now and then when I eventually come off my sweets fast.
Here are a few of my favorite photos from the Old Dublin Dr. Pepper Plant:
(See UPDATE below the photos.)
An anonymous commenter wrote:
“Dublin Dr Pepper is not closed. It is renamed as Dublin Bottling Works, and still doing business, except they no longer manufacture Dr Pepper products. www.olddocs.com” (emphasis added)
While I appreciate a push for accuracy, I believe the bolded part says what I said: “RIP DubDP.” The plant no longer bottles DP products. As a label the product is gone. I also mention in my post that “BigDP will continue to produce [cane] sugar-sweetened DP for the DubDP distribution radius, but something tells me it will be different, and I mean more than just the label.” It also should be noted that Dublin DP will not appear on the bottles produced by BigDP.
The bottling plant itself continues to operate under a different name – Old Doc’s Soda Shop – making different products, but Dublin DP is definitely no more. Here’s the confirmation from Old Doc’s website FAQ page:
Why is Dr Pepper no longer bottled in Dublin?
Dublin Bottling Works and Dr Pepper Snapple Group reached an agreement in January 2012 that transferred the bottling and distribution rights for Dr Pepper products to Dr Pepper Snapple Group. The same Dr Pepper made with pure cane sugar is still available for sale in Dublin, although Dublin Bottling Works no longer bottles Dr Pepper products.
For enthusiasts, I still recommend the tour – even though they don’t bottle DubDp any longer. Perhaps that was the gist of the anonymous comment. My intention was to focus on the product. I apologize for any confusion.







Israel Tour Highlight #137010
Working with tour groups in Israel is [almost] always a blessing. It’s exciting to see visitors’ faces when, as they say in Hebrew, “the coin falls.” In other words, when “the light comes on” or the connection between a certain event and place happens. I love to see the joy of discovery, especially as it relates to the Bible. But my groups generally have modern cultural and historical interests, too. Every group is different, and I’m regularly on the look out for things out of the ordinary, not on the itinerary that will make my group’s visit to Israel more special than it might already be. For this group, I found that special historical gem in the breakfast line.
As I approached the special-order egg line, I noticed the tattoo on his arm, 137010. Immediately, I knew he was a holocaust survivor because I’ve seen these tattoos in the museum, and probably a dozen times in person. However, I never had the nerve to ask the bearer to share his/her story; I just imagined what it might have been.
This time was different. I took a deep breath and asked the elderly gentleman a) if he spoke Hebrew, and b) if I could ask a question. “Yes,” he answered to both questions. I was hesitant, but I proceeded to ask if he would tell me the story of the numeric tattoo that appeared on his left forearm. I was afraid he would be embarrassed, but he wasn’t. In fact, he seemed pleased that I asked.
Interacting with my inquiry about his tattoo, he said, “My name is Beniko Gihon; in Germany my name was changed to 137010. I am a Jew originally from Greece.” He continued with a moving, two-minute version of his story. His family had been rounded up in Thessaloniki, and he was the only survivor. Over the course of five years, he was systematically transferred to/from Auschwitz-Birkenau, the Warsaw Ghetto, and Dachau. He had a variety of jobs, but mainly focused on his work in the crematoria.
I was translating his story for a man from my group and noticed that others had started to lean in closer to listen in on our conversation, which indicated that they found this interesting, too. After a couple minutes, his eggs and mine were ready, so, unfortunately, we had to bring this encounter to a close. I thanked him for sharing his story, we shook hands, and parted ways.
I found a table near my group and sat down by myself. To say that his story was gut wrenching would be an exaggerated understatement. But, his story wasn’t the thing that affected me the most. It was the question he posed: “Why were the Christians so quiet?”
I wanted my group to hear Beniko’s story, but I wondered if that would be asking too much. As I ate my breakfast, I kept an eye on him from across the room and wondered whether I should ask him to speak on the bus. Since he didn’t seem to mind my initial inquiry, I decided to go for it, and the outcome was just what I had hoped.
After my group boarded the bus, I brought them up to speed on what was about to happen, then I introduced Mr. Beniko. He climbed the stairs and stood proudly in the front of the bus and began to share his story.
Beniko, which is the Greek version of Benjamin, started with some details of his family and how the Nazis came to Greece and killed so many. The rest were taken to the labor and death camps in Germany and Poland, which is where he learned to speak German, and where his name was changed to 137010.
His story lasted longer than I had given him, which I knew it would. But, seeing him standing in the front of the bus and hearing his biography was worth every minute.
Some specific details that pierced my heart:
Beniko’s story, made the horrors of the Holocaust real and personal for us, impacting each in a slightly different way. I tried to give some current perspective to his presentation because the easy thing would be to say, “I wasn’t there” because none of us were. I reminded the group of the words of James 1:27 that pure religion is to care for the widows and orphans, which I understand to mean “take care of those who can’t take care of themselves.” I also think that being born again demands that Christians have an active interest in “the least of these” (Mt 25).
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