People often ask, “How and why did you get into the wine business?” The short answer is: it was a compelling force of nature that I didn’t quite understand until one mind-blowing glass of wine. I’ll confess, it was a Cabernet, but still, it was the final piece of a puzzle in a series of events. It was one of those moments where suddenly all the little whispers you’ve heard yourself say throughout your life flashes before your mind in one big boom of Ah-ha! Being a grape grower in my hometown seemed too obvious, and I felt too young and inexperienced, so I figured I’d conceal this dream of mine until retirement and some further study. I don’t recommend that for anyone. Lucky for me my folks were crazy enough to recognize my passion and said they’d help. I jumped into Oregon’s land rush for the finest Pinot Noir dirt around and found my forever home—just one gravel road away from where I’d grown up, imagine that.
I grew up in Dundee on a small farm with parents who were madly in love with each other and three siblings. We moved up to Chehalem Mountain when I was in high school, and my folks sold the place and moved to the big city after all of us kids had gone off to college. It would take a several treks around the world, a hundred different summers in the woods working with kids, clearing trails for the forest service, hugging big trees and then 15 years trying to make it as a city girl before I’d find my way back home.
And make it home I did. I found Finnigan Hill after months of searching for the right place where I could settle in and create a future for myself. The process was overwhelming, at best, but when I saw the home perched on top of the hill and the surrounding valley, I knew this place was meant for me.