Our annual Valentine to our readers is a true story about love and wine.

After graduation from the state university, Chad took a job in a regional bank not far from the Midwestern town where he grew up. Before long, he began to notice an attractive young woman who had recently been hired in another division. One day he got up the courage to ask her out. Leslie was everything Chad was not. She had gone to school in the east, spoke French and Italian, and had lived for a time in Italy.

On their first date, Chad took her to the nicest restaurant in the city—a romantic place with white tablecloths and flowers on the tables. He paid little attention when the waiter brought the wine list, and was taken aback when Leslie asked if he was going to order a bottle of wine. Chad had grown up in a home where wine was never served. His recreational beverage of choice was beer. But, seizing the moment, he asked Leslie to order something for them. After discussing the choices, she pointed, and the waiter reappeared with a bottle of Podere del Paradiso. She tasted, and nodded, and the wine was poured. Chad was intrigued by what happened next. Leslie swirled the wine in the glass, and sniffed, and began to speak of wild cherries, and cloves, and cinnamon, and how this grape was only grown near San Gimignano, which was her favorite village in Tuscany. Chad swirled, and tasted, and his face lit up. He liked it! He liked Leslie too, and suspected this might be the beginning of something.

It was the beginning of something. Chad and Leslie became a steady couple, going somewhere together almost every weekend. The relationship flourished, and so did Chad’s appreciation of wines. He began to read everything he could about wines, and found a knowledgeable and helpful guide at the city’s best wine shop. Soon, he was introducing Leslie to wines she had never tried. She liked to cook, and many evenings were spent together in the kitchen of her apartment sipping, and cooking, and talking. Sharing a bottle of wine-sometimes two-became common.

The second anniversary of their first date approached, and they made plans to spend it cooking osso buco at Leslie’s apartment. Chad was aware that he had spent some of the most wonderful times of his life with this young woman, and that he was feeling something for her he had never experienced before. After much discussion with his wine advisor, Chad selected an expensive Italian wine, Gaja Barbaresco, for this celebration of their two years together. It was the most he had ever paid for a bottle of wine, but this was a special occasion. Who knew how this evening might end?

It was a Friday night, and Chad appeared at Leslie’s door promptly at 7 p.m., the bottle under one arm, an arrangement with two roses in the other hand, and a heart filled with anticipation. He rang the bell, but there was no answer. He returned to his car and sat in the driveway for awhile. No Leslie. He drove around the block several times, and called from a nearby drug store, but got only the answering machine. After an hour, he was beginning to get genuinely worried. He went back home and started calling some of their colleagues who worked with her. They had all seen her at work that day, but said she had left the office at the usual time. Now Chad was frantic. As a last resort, he called the hospital.

There had been a terrible accident on the way home. Leslie had run into the back of a flat-bed truck. The protruding bed had gone through the windshield of her car, striking her in the head and causing severe brain injuries. She was in a deep coma, not responding to stimuli, and the doctors did not expect her to survive. Chad was grief-stricken. He angrily jammed the bottle of Barbaresco into his wine rack and took off for the hospital, where he maintained a vigil outside the Intensive Care Unit all night, and for many days and nights to come.

Well, Leslie didn’t die after all. She lived, but faced many, many months of rehabilitation. Life went on. Chad was promoted, and his new duties involved a lot of travel. Although he visited her as often as he could, and still felt a love for her, he realized they could never have a romantic relationship again.

Leslie was unable to return to work, and never did fully recover from her injuries. She eventually moved to another state to be near relatives who could care for her. One night, several years after these events, Chad had some friends over and a party got going. After all his “party” wines were depleted, he reached into the wine rack and opened several other bottles for his guests. He vaguely remembers noting that one of them was the best wine he had tasted in years. The next morning, when he was cleaning up, he saw the empty bottle of Barbaresco on the counter and realized that the most special wine of his whole life was gone.

Chad eventually met and married someone else--an attractive life’s companion who shares his love of wines. How do I know this? Because I met her. Chad told me this story late one evening when we were having a nightcap at a Bed and Breakfast in wine country after our wives had gone to bed. This would be the end of the story except for one continuity. Once in a while, Chad will receive a package. Inside, there will be a bottle of wine and a note: “I think you will like this. Love, Leslie.”

Photo credits: Jerry Hall


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