Old Vines, Deep Roots: Calistoga's Frediani Family

“There aren’t too many old farming families like us around anymore,” Jim Frediani told me as we bounced and bumped along the vine rows in his small vineyard truck. We had just left the house of his uncle Alfred, whose cache of old vines, duct tape hat and straight shooting attitude are the stuff of legend.

Al, Jim, Jim’s nephew Ken Flynn and I sat around the kitchen table. Al’s wife Bobby came through a few times on her walker, closely followed by a rather frantic little white dog. Jim did most of the talking, unspooling his family’s story with his unique and disarming combination of poetic eloquence, sharp but warm wit, and a near encyclopedic recollection of facts. Pretty soon he was recounting the vineyard’s history, practically vine by vine. “The county records say that this patch of Charbono was planted in 1920, but I think it’s more like 1935,” he said. “You can tell because the spacing is 8x8. That’s tractor spacing, and we got our first tractor in the mid-30s. If it had been planted before then, it would have been to horse-spacing, which is 7x7.” Later, he pulled up alongside Al’s backyard pool. One lone vine had effectively eaten the chain link fence that surrounds it. “That’s our oldest vine,” he explained, “a Mission planted in 1901.”

Alfred Frediani

Alfred Frediani

The Fredianis pronounce their name with a hard ‘a’, a sign that their presence dates back well before Napa got fancy, before the Mon-day-vis became the Mon-dah-vis. At the turn of the 20th century, Jim’s ancestors were living in San Francisco, where his grandmother Ina’s first husband had a drayage company. After the army confiscated his wagons during the earthquake of 1906, the couple took their compensation and moved to Napa Valley, where they purchased the 37-acre ranch that now belongs to Al. Ina’s husband reportedly suffered from tuberculosis and Calistoga’s volcanic hot springs, with their rumored healing properties, were a big draw. The Fredianis also knew many of the other Italian families living in the area, such as the Solaris (who owned Larkmead), which further increased the appeal of Calistoga.

Old vines dominate
both Frediani vineyards

Old vines dominate both Frediani vineyards

After her first husband died, Ina remained in Calistoga and remarried, this time to Abramo Frediani. Together they had two boys. Jim’s father, Eugene ("Gene"), was born in 1919, while Alfred followed in 1921. The ranch was planted to a combination of wine grapes and prunes, which was customary for the day. Also typical was the composition of the vineyard—a patchwork of Mission, Petite Sirah (known as ‘pets’ by Napa locals), Black Malvoisie, Green Hungarian, and Carignan, which old-timers pronounce with a hard ‘g’. Each harvest, the Fredianis hauled their bounty in a Model T to San Francisco, where the fruit was evaluated and purchased by brokers. Later, during Prohibition, they sold prunes for a half a cent a pound.

Ken Flynn (left) and
Jim Frediani

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“There aren’t too many old farming families like us around anymore,” Jim Frediani told me as we bounced and bumped along the vine rows in his small vineyard truck. We had just left the house of his uncle Alfred, whose cache of old vines, duct tape hat and straight shooting attitude are the stuff of legend.