Mac was one of the good ones. He was also a member of my family and shared a ton of memories with all of us. Creighton took no shit and told it like it was. He was a champion and pioneer advocate of the people and in this case that would be a legion of mexicanos who shared his journey through central coast agriculture and wine production. His influence touched a lot of lives for the better. Why he never made it to Culiacan is a mystery, but my guess would be he had more amigotes de confianza there than el chapo.
The other day my thoughts turned to events that started in the early 70's when my brother Mike and I shared a room in the old ranch house in Paso Robles. We had bunk beds across from each other and before going to sleep one night he asked me why we used french oak barrels for some wines. I heard the question, nodded off before I could respond and started dreaming about a huge jet plane taking off and flying. I woke up and replied 'why do airplanes have wheels?'
Sometime later my brother gave me a present of a large carving he commissioned from our friend and classmate Mark Frank that featured a stack of wine barrels with the saying about the airplanes carved above the barrels. 20 some years later, after numerous address changes, I mentioned to Creighton how much that gift meant and wondered where it ended up. He found it in the Paso Robles airport cafe and gave it back to me. It's here in our kitchen today as a reminder of the value and magic of friendships. Mac, my brother, you are dearly missed.
David Hoffman
Mac was one of the good ones. He was also a member of my family and shared a ton of memories with all of us. Creighton took no shit and told it like it was. He was a champion and pioneer advocate of the people and in this case that would be a legion of mexicanos who shared his journey through central coast agriculture and wine production. His influence touched a lot of lives for the better. Why he never made it to Culiacan is a mystery, but my guess would be he had more amigotes de confianza there than el chapo.
The other day my thoughts turned to events that started in the early 70's when my brother Mike and I shared a room in the old ranch house in Paso Robles. We had bunk beds across from each other and before going to sleep one night he asked me why we used french oak barrels for some wines. I heard the question, nodded off before I could respond and started dreaming about a huge jet plane taking off and flying. I woke up and replied 'why do airplanes have wheels?'
Sometime later my brother gave me a present of a large carving he commissioned from our friend and classmate Mark Frank that featured a stack of wine barrels with the saying about the airplanes carved above the barrels. 20 some years later, after numerous address changes, I mentioned to Creighton how much that gift meant and wondered where it ended up. He found it in the Paso Robles airport cafe and gave it back to me. It's here in our kitchen today as a reminder of the value and magic of friendships. Mac, my brother, you are dearly missed.