Sterne Mcmullen
Sterne McMullen Remembers Luigi: Much about Luigi Favero such as his calm and non-pretentious genius was exceptional, and some things like the marriage of his parents and their farm based family life during an era of ethnic and racial prejudice, and the lessons there learned, were world historic. I have always thought that his childhood experiences in the artichoke fields near Salinas grounded Luigi and helped him understand the nature of things that most of us rage at. I first met Luigi in a boarding house on Channing Way that we all called ?the Swan Dive,? near the University of California campus where I was a 20 year old Junior and Luigi an 18 year old Freshman during the Fall of 1963. We ate dinner at a common table, and I remember Luigi helping me clear the table and take dishes back to the kitchen where we would stand there and talk about this or that, and occasionally do minor chores like take out the trash or put away clean dishes, but mostly just talk. I do not recall exactly how we became friends, but I know that I was attracted to his pleasant wit, his awareness of detail in any given situation, and a calm and accepting demeanor that suggested a maturity beyond his years, and certainly beyond mine. Sometime in 1972, on some occasion, several of us including Luigi went out to dinner at a restaurant on University Avenue in Berkeley. I was sitting by Luigi, and the server was impressed that we had ordered from the wine list, but returned to the table with a different wine. ? I can offer you this better wine at the same price.? We nodded. The rich delicacy and complexity of this wine (I cannot remember the label) was unlike anything either of us had ever tasted. As Luigi would say on many occasions, this was the defining moment that began his long journey of wine appreciation. Once, when Luigi had fallen on hard times with life and love, he lived with us for several months from October of 1975 to May of 1976. We enjoyed his presence, and welcomed his help with our house payment. We shared many evening meals together, taking turns in their preparation, but nearly always enjoying a fine wine provided by Luigi. He had two wine glasses, one that he would enjoy with the meal, and one with about two inches of wine that he would let breathe and occasionally sip to see how it changed character over a three hour period. After dinner he would put the bottle or bottles in the kitchen sink to soak, and the next morning remove their labels and paste them into a notebook, in which he wrote down the attributes of the wine and his evaluation of it. After dinner during that rainy winter we would retire to our large living room with French doors all around and a fire ablaze in a huge stone fireplace that nearly filled the end wall. We had bought a large and puffy L-shaped sectional that we called ?The Brown Cloud,? and the three of us would lax out, read, and listen to music as the rain fell and the fire crackled. Some nights we would pass out until the fire died and the room grew chill and then stumble off to bed. One night Kathy put on Led Zeppelin?s Stairway to Heaven. Luigi sat up and listened intently, as if hearing it in all of its complexity for the first time. ?That?s a good song,? he said. I reset the needle and played it again. It wasn?t long before Luigi got another good job, and would be up and dressed to the nines, while we were still fumbling about for morning coffee. He had just enough time before leaving for work to complete the New York Times crossword puzzle, which he could always accomplish in less than 20 minutes, usually about 15. Remarkable. In April of 1976 for our 3rd Anniversary present, Luigi gave us a 1973 Lafitte Rothschild Picasso label Bordeaux. ?I would like to be there when you open that bottle,? Luigi said. We never opened that bottle. We hugged Luigi for what would be the last time on a hospice patio in Salinas in 2014, and left him smiling in the warm October sun.