Don Silvio Vannucchi
When my grandfather or nonno, Samuele Sebastiani, left his family Tuscan village, Farneta, nearly 130 years ago, he had no idea if he would
ever return.
In Farneta, the monastery or “chertosa” was the center of life, a place devoted to prayer as well as the production of fine wine. For centuries, the monks in the “chertosa” labored to grow grapes that would be transformed into wine, and for centuries my ancestors helped them. The Sebastiani family worked as sharecroppers for the monastery, and it was there where Samuele learned to make wine.
My nonno never forgot his humble roots in Farneta. He told my father August stories of his days in the tiny village outside the monastery. Little did he imagine that connections between the Sonoma Sebastianis and their counterparts in Farneta would grow stronger with time, instead of weaker.
I remember my first visit to the tiny church in Farneta, Italy, where my nonno and generations before him celebrated life’s big events. Churches such as this were more than a place to worship in those days, they were the hub of life in the community.
I still recall the goosebumps I felt when I first entered the village church in the early 1980s. As I sat back in one of the pews, my gaze was drawn upward to the ceiling far above me. Painted ceilings are quite common in Italian churches, but the sight of the paintings in this church left me awestruck. A flood of emotion swept through me as I realized the power of the connection I shared at that moment with my nonno, Samuele. As I ran my hand along the edge of the baptismal font where my he was baptized I was struck with a mystical feeling. I felt a power in that place you do not get from pictures or stories and it brought me to tears.
Many years before, my nonno sat in these very same pews and stared at these very same images of saints and angels in heavenly pursuits. From their lofty perch, they watched over him during his baptism, as he grew into an active boy, and later as an adventurous young man. When he made his decision to seek his fortune in America, they blessed his journey. They, along with his family and parish community all welcomed him back when he returned decades later to visit Farneta.
During this first of many visits to the church, the village priest, Don Silvio Vannucchi, held a mass in honor of Samuele. Afterward Don Silvio took me to a room which held the old church records. As we paged through books that traced the Sebastiani family lineage back to the 1300s, I saw the names of my great-grandparents Lorenzo and Sabina. Beside the name of my nonno Samuele was the handwritten entry, “departed for America 6 May 1895.”
In the following days, Don Silvio took me to the house where my nonno was was born and introduced me to several of my Sebastiani cousins. I explained to them the life Samuele made in America and they in turn told me what they remembered about him and his brothers and sisters. One cousin even remembered ringing the church bell upon Samuele's first arrival home.
I still marvel today at the spiritual connection I have with the town where my nonno grew up and with the monastery where he learned to make wine. I am awed at the parallels between Farneta and Sonoma. Not only do they share nearly identical topography, but both areas have a rich red volcanic soil, the better to grow premium grapes. I have had both soils analyzed and they are very similar. I am convinced that Samuele was destined to leave Farneta and journey to Sonoma. Even though Farneta is the roots of our family, nonno had to leave to make things work and there is a strong aura hanging over these events. There is no doubt divined intercession helped to make things happen this way.
After arriving in America and establishing his winery in Sonoma, Samuele returned to the village in Italy with my nonna Elvira in 1938. The visit was an emotional homecoming and celebration where they were able to share their good fortune and many gifts with his family and friends. Samuele's success in California also enabled him to make needed repairs to the small, hilltop community church – a gift for which he is still remembered today.
Robin and I stayed in touch with Don Silvio until his death. Don Silvio blessed our marriage (lower right photo) in the same church in Farneta where the Sebastiani family worshipped. After the parish church suffered substantial damage to the roof from violent thunderstorms, through Don Silvio I helped provide resources to repair the destruction. A marble plaque now mounted to the outside wall of the church describes our efforts. The plaque reads, “In the year of our Lord, 2002, this temple entrusted to Don Silvio Vannucchi. This temple has been devastated by time and bad weather and was restored to its former glory thanks to the generosity of the foundation of the Savings Bank of Lucca, Sam Sebastiani from California, the funding of the Bank of the Monte di Lucca and of the Bucalossi Law.” I am pleased I have been able to continue my family's support of this special church.
My nonno's vision and determination to build a winery and a life in a distant place has always been an inspiration to those of us who followed in his footsteps. We knew him as nonno and remember him through the few photos taken in his later years. Our family legacy began with him as a very young man in a very new world.
Winemaking has been a part of the Sebastiani family blood hundreds and hundreds of years. It changes my perspective of my family heritage, a lineage unparalleled in California winemaking. It refocuses my purpose. I am humbled to be part of this continuum.
As our lives become faster paced and technology impacts every facet of our existence, I realize the importance of clinging to my heritage; of staying in touch with my roots. By maintaining the traditions of my ancestors, I can value those things that are truly important in life: our family and friends and the memories we share.
I chose to name our Reserve Sangiovese after our fine friend Don Silvio as a salute to his love and dedication to not only my family,
but to the church at Farneta.
Grazie, mio caro amico,
