PHOENIX — For a time, it was what Arizona drank. A-1 beer was bigger than Budweiser, bigger than Coors.

A-1 signs hung outside taverns and bars citywide, and A-1 artwork hung inside. A-1 sponsored sports teams, and its production facility became a gathering spot.

Then A-1 went away, disappearing slowly like suds atop a cold pint.

But interest in the beer is emerging. There's a veritable shrine dedicated to the beer at one of the region's most popular steak houses.

A brewer has made a beer he hopes follows the A-1 style.

And a southern Arizona man hopes to once again sell beer bottled with the A-1 name.

"It's just a shame," said Andy Ingram, the brewer at Four Peaks in Tempe, Ariz., who has created the A-1 tribute brew, "because it was here for so long."

It might seem odd that A-1 beer faded from its lofty status in the 1950s, about the time that Phoenix's growth was exploding. But the nostalgia for A-1, and its possible comeback, reflects a city's growing appreciation for its roots.

"There's just something about Arizona having its own things we can cling to," said Eli Drakulich, the man who owns the trademark to the A-1 beer name. He runs a chain of wine stores called Beverage House in southern Arizona.

"When I bought the trademark, I didn't just buy the trademark. I bought a part of history."

The decision will make great business sense if Drakulich can repeat the beer's former dominance in the state. According to a 1956 Arizona Republic story, more than half of all beer sold in the state that year was made by Arizona Brewing Co., makers of A-1 beer.

The brewery opened in Phoenix shortly after the end of Prohibition in 1933, said Ed Sipos, 41, who is working on a book about Arizona beers.

The original company put out several beers under different labels: Hopi, Apache, Dutch Treat, Wunderland and Sunbru. That last name, placed on the brewery's first bottled beer, was chosen in a contest.

In 1942, Joseph Lanser moved to Arizona from Tacoma, Wash., and bought the brewery. He started bottling under the A-1 name, and sales soared. By 1949, Arizona Brewing Co. expanded, building a $2 million, four-story facility.

A-1 pushed its local ties, Sipos said, sponsoring a minor-league baseball team and a women's softball team.

The brewery also commissioned artwork by Lon Megargee, a renowned Arizona artist whose work had been on display at the state Capitol. It gave the prints to bars for free.

"Every bar that served A-1 had those pictures," said Herman Dickson, who sells prints of that artwork at his Web site, www.a-1beerprints.com.

But even as the brewery seemed to be thriving in the 1950s, it was slowly losing money, Sipos said.

A-1 had to advertise more to attract the people moving into the city.

"A lot of people came from out of town and had their own brands they liked," Sipos said.

Coors and Budweiser also started making stronger advertising pushes in the Phoenix market.

"A-1 just didn't have the presence and advertising budget to compete against the larger breweries," said Art Pearce, whose family's Pearce Beverage Co. was the longtime Coors distributor for the state.

Quality slipped over time, Sipos said. After Lanser died in 1963, the brewery changed recipes and may have watered down the beer, said Sipos, who conducted interviews with brewery employees.

By 1964, Carling Brewing Co. bought out Arizona Brewing Co. Soon the Phoenix brewery was making the "imported" Canadian beer Black Label, as well as Stag.

In the '70s, Carling tried to bring back the brand. It sponsored the Phoenix Suns beginning in 1972. Al McCoy, the radio voice of the team, would say a shot was "good like A-1 beer." A-1 beer stopped sponsoring the Suns right before the 1975-76 season, the year the team went to the NBA Finals.

A-1 made one more try at a comeback in 1979, Sipos said. It used the slogan "Arizona, you're A-1."

But by then, it was a down-market beer, found in the bottom shelf of store coolers.

The brewery closed in 1985 and sat vacant for years. In 1993, it was demolished and the headquarters for the Phoenix Fire Department was built in its place. The large A-1 tile in the hospitality room was preserved and sits outside the west entrance to the lobby.

There was a sentimental and historic attachment between the brewery and the Fire Department, said Robert Cantwell, assistant fire chief. Cantwell said the firefighters union used to have its meetings in the brewery back in the 1940s.

Nothing explains the A-1 tile to visitors, Cantwell said.

"We might think about adding that," he said, "so 20, 25 years from now (the story) doesn't fade away."

Drakulich, who hopes to bring back an A-1 beer by 2010, said he won't worry about replicating the original but will try to make a quality brew. That's what he remembered A-1 being during its heyday.

"It was fabulous," Drakulich said. "Great, great beer. Perfect for the Southwest, perfect for the desert."

Others who had A-1 during the 1970s don't speak as kindly.

"I didn't like it," said Herman Dickson.

Sipos said A-1's slide in quality might hurt people's nostalgia for it.

"Most of the people who are going to remember it will say it's bad," he said.