Give sorrow words; the grief that does not speak knits up the o-er wrought heart and bids it break.”
— William Shakespeare, Macbeth
I began writing this column as the welcome sound of the first October rain danced steadily upon my rooftop. What if this rain had come one year earlier? Would it have changed the history of the firestorms of 2017?
Dan Barwick was a student in one of my first public relations classes taught at Santa Rosa Junior College in the 1990s. At that time, I could never have imagined we would be having this conversation 25 years later.
But then again, there were many things about that class I couldn’t have predicted. That Dan and Sonia Byck, who sat closer to each other every week as they flirted, would eventually marry. That Dan would become winemaker for Paradise Ridge, the Byck family winery. Nor, that the three of us would remain friends these many years later, which is why Dan agreed to share his story with me.
Dan Barwick’s career in food and wine began when he was 16 years old. He left school in Dover, England and was taken under the wing of a mentor, who gave him the position as a butcher’s apprentice. Eventually, he joined the Harrods in Knightsbridge, London, where he spent eight years working in the famous Food Halls. It was there that his knowledge and passion for food and wine were ignited.
By 1991, Dan found his way to Sonoma County. He worked harvest at Matanzas Creek, followed by five years at Ferrari-Carano Vineyards & Winery, where he learned from the winemaking team as his mentors. Many wine classes later, Dan and Sonia married in 1995.
I’ve always admired couples that begin lives together by traveling. Early in their marriage they set off for adventures that included harvests in Burgundy, France, Stellenbosch, South Africa and the Barossa Valley, Australia. For more than two years, they learned hands-on about the wine business.
“One of my greatest honors while traveling was that my Burgundy employer M. Billiard, who was the mayor of LaRocheport, choose my Friday lunches for the family and cellar crew over gatherings of mayors from surrounding towns,” Dan said.
Back in the day, it was impressive that the French mayor preferred lunch served by an Englishman.
Dan pruned vineyards and dragged winery hoses, while also inviting winemakers whose wines he admired to lunch, where he peppered them with questions. Answers to these questions assisted Dan greatly when he returned home to become winemaker for Paradise Ridge, founded by Sonia’s parents in 1994.
“I had the dream life, and I loved it,” reflected Dan. “My talented Paradise Ridge team supported me and knew everything I wanted for my style of winemaking. Our winery was a beautiful place to work. The vineyards so serene, my inspiration each day as I refined my winemaking.”
Then, everything changed.
“At 1:30 a.m. on October 9, I received a call from a colleague who lived in Fountaingrove. ‘The winery is probably burning down,’ he said.
“Heading out the back roads from Healdsburg, passing by Willi’s Wine Bar at 1:45 a.m., I had no comprehension of what was really happening. Traffic was going the wrong way, toward the north. I thought there must have been one heck of a concert at LBC.
“In front of me there was smoke. A voice inside said, ‘Don’t go to the winery.’ Then out of seemingly nowhere a dragon’s breath of fire poured across the road just feet in front of me. It was three feet high and must have been spontaneous combustion.
“I said to myself, ‘I can get through this,’ and was somehow led home safely,’” said Dan as he glanced upward. “I believe my guardian angels were with me.”
“If I’d been driving a second faster, the flames would have been behind me and an exit strategy would have been more complicated. By the time I got to a safe place, my windshield was bathwater hot. My car searing, I heard a dink, dink, dink sound as the car warmed, I was scared. Just 200 feet later, the entire street was full of cars. People were fleeing; it was the height of fleeing.”
“I never saw flames again,” he said. “I’ve never seen anything like that.”
“Everyone was in shock. I grew up hearing the expression, ‘You don’t know the fabric you’re woven of until you have to draw upon it.’ Somehow with an innate ability to survive, I was able to do what needed to be done. I was never before conscious of my ability to do this.”
“Although I was in a bit of a trance, by 9 a.m. the next day my innate winemaker kicked in and I was sourcing replacement fruit. We were picking grapes for Paradise Ridge on Thursday, and within five weeks I had bottled my beloved Trecini Sauvignon Blanc sourced from other people’s fruit.”
Reflecting on his astonishing loss, Dan continued, “Days after the fire, when we were finally allowed onto the winery site, rooms with 400 barrels full of wine — gone. Only a dozen or so barrels survived. How does a barrel of wine burn? The amount of stuff that was gone — staggering, just staggering.”
“That part of our world just vanished. The winery was gone. It was a miracle, and I’m still struck with the kindness and generosity of our wine community and the network of support offering both Paradise Ridge and Trecini fruit, places to make wine.”
Dan’s friend Guy Davis, also a winemaker, called Dan immediately asking if he needed to make more wine. All the Rockpile fruit picked after the fire was made at Moshin Vineyards.
“It’s emotional — profound sadness,” said Dan. “It’s the strangest darn thing. I somehow learned to meditate, to get a glimpse of what I was feeling and was able to visit and ask myself, ‘What needs my attention today’? To be able to visit those darker places, meet those feelings and be who I am. We lost two wineries: Paradise Ridge and Trecini Winery, where I am also the winemaker.”
A wine harvested on August 21, 2017 during the solar eclipse was among Dan’s greatest losses. In his mind’s eye, he remembers his crew harvesting pinot noir as the moon’s shadow darkened the sky.
“You get one opportunity to make wine from fruit harvested during a total solar eclipse — a wine made at a specific date and time that you can always remember.”
Like others who lost so much during the October fires, Dan recognized that, “The fires were a great equalizer in reminding us of our humanness. We all had the same emotions in that moment regardless of who you were. How rare is that?”
“I’ve learned the importance of empathy,” he said. “Thanksgiving 2017, I was honored when asked to help John and Gesine Franchetti serve a holiday meal at their wood fire kitchen. Meeting people in this way, I was reminded that all people deserve the same honor and dignity.”
Dan understands he has changed. Lessons learned from the fire enable him to become a better person — stronger, more thoughtful. His new mantra is, “If a kind word is available, say it.”
“Something big happened. I’m not angry, yet still have a profound sadness,” concluded Dan. “This experience has made the world more interesting for me, although it doesn’t help me eat more vegetables and fruit.”
“Don’t grieve. Anything you lose comes round in another form.” ― Rumi
Marie Gewirtz represents wine and food clients with marketing and communications in Sonoma County and throughout the world. She can be reached at [email protected].
