What began as a small hobby farm 12 years ago has grown into a thriving local apiary known as Old School Honey. Al Dutton, seeking a meaningful way to spend retirement, bought 12 acres in Portland and launched a U-Pick blackberry farm. “I realized I needed to pollinate the berries, so I took a beekeeping class in Nashville,” he recalls with a smile. “We beekeepers love to talk about bees.”

That class sparked a deep passion. Today, Al works as tirelessly as the honeybees he tends. “I don’t like getting stung,” he admits. “And being out in this heat is hard.” He offers a soft chuckle, then looks off thoughtfully. “So why do I do this? Because when someone comes up at the farmers market and says, ‘This is the best honey I’ve ever tasted,’ it reminds me of the partnership between the bees, me, and my customers.”

That partnership is a full-circle effort. “The bees work hard to make the honey, I work hard to care for them, and the customers support us by purchasing it,” he explains. At his home, Al even runs an honor-system honey stand, where customers can stop by, grab a bottle, and leave payment in a drop box.

Old School Honey officially launched five years ago, named after the historic Highland Schoolhouse, which was on Al’s four-acre homestead in Portland. The school was decommissioned in 1948, but its presence shaped the land and Al’s mission. “I want to honor the land that’s out there. I’m old school anyways,” he says with a grin.

From one beekeeper and a few hives, Al’s work has grown to include seven separate apiaries (or bee yards). His promise is simple: “Old School Honey is going to bring a great product at a good price.”

You may have spotted this golden nectar during the summer at the White House Farmers Market or Portland Farmers Market. It's also at Bernard’s in Orlinda, The Fellowship Coffee House in White House, and Top of the Ridge in Portland.

One of Al’s signature products is his bourbon barrel honey. “I’ve become famous for it,” he says. The honey is aged in bourbon barrels, soaking up hints of vanilla, caramel, and oak.

Al’s beekeeping knowledge comes from surrounding himself with others in the field. “I was lost at first,” he shares. But through active involvement in local associations—including the Tennessee, Nashville, Wilson County, and Sumner County Beekeepers (where he serves as Vice President)—he’s found support and inspiration. “Get five beekeepers in a room and you’ll get eight answers,” he jokes.

With a 40–50% average annual colony loss in Tennessee, protecting pollinators is more urgent than ever. “The key,” says Al, “is to buy local, raw honey—strained, not filtered, and never heated above 105 degrees.” That keeps the local pollen intact, which some believe helps with seasonal allergies—and supports both bees and beekeepers alike.

Buying local seems like a simple way we can give back to the honeybees and the beekeepers making our community sweeter. 

Check out Old School Honey here.

Editor's Note: This is part of our collaborative project with White House Chamber of Commerce and their magazine, Live Local. We are honored to be part of highlighting the businesses and people that make White House wonderful. Be sure to snag your own glossy copy at one of several locations around White House.