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From the Silver Screen to the Golden Gate: The Epic Journey of Alexis Merab (by Dr. Mari Chikvaidze)

Sat, 12 Sep 2026 23:25:05 GMT

submit ted by Dr. Mari Chikvaidze

Yet, the silver screen could not mask the gathering political storms. That very same year, a fierce Georgian nationalist revolt against Soviet subjugation was ruthlessly crushed. The cost of resistance was paid directly in Merabishvili blood: seven members of Alexis’s immediate family were executed or perished in the violence. Overnight, the celebrated young "John Barrymore of Russia" became a hunted political dissident, forced to flee the creeping

shadow of Soviet purges.

The archives of twentieth-century displacement are rarely quiet; they hum with the echoes of shattered kingdoms and brilliant reinventions. Among these, few narratives carry the cinematic scope and emotional resonance of Georgian nobleman Aleksandre "Iliko" Kazbek Gedevani Merabishvili - known to mid-century American high society simply as Alexis Merab. Prepared for the Napa Valley Historical Society, this biography traces his journey

from the sun-drenched vineyards of Caucasian Georgian nobility to the silent film screens of the Soviet Union, through the neon-lit fever dream of wartime Shanghai, to the absolute pinnacle of San Francisco’s culinary golden age, and finally, to his peaceful twilight in the Napa Valley.

Imperial Roots and Silent Stardom (1909–1926)

Alexis Merab entered the world on Aug 06, 1909, born into a life of profound imperial privilege in Tiflis (now Tbilisi), the historic capital of the country, Georgia. His early years were shaped by the heavy scent of his father's vast vineyards, the commercial prominence of his grandfather's liquor enterprises, and the exclusive, echoing halls of a school reserved strictly for the nobility. It was a world where history intersected intimately with daily life; family lore even noted that the mother of a young Joseph Stalin had once performed domestic laundry for the wealthy Merabishvili household.

By the time Alexis (known as Iliko) reached adolescence, his striking, dark-complexioned features and natural charisma caught the attention of early cinematic scouts. At just fourteen years old, he passed a screen test that instantly launched him into international celebrity as a premier state movie star of the flourishing early Georgian film industry. His crowning achievement came in 1926, starring as the definitive romantic rebel in “Krazana” The Gadfly , directed by Kote Mardjanoff (later Mardjanishvili) one of Europe's top theatrical visionaries.

The China Reinvention (1926–1947)

Escaping across the vast, frozen expanse of the Russian continent, Alexis survived in deep hiding before slipping across the Manchurian border from Vladivostok in 1930. He arrived in the international diaspora communities of Harbin and Tientsin, initially intending to leverage his theatrical fame to reach Hollywood. However, as the global Great Depression paralyzed the West, Alexis pivoted to the bustling, resilient economy of old Shanghai.

In China, the displaced nobleman masterfully traded celluloid scripts for elegant wine lists. He reinvented himself as a premier entrepreneur and epicurean host, successfully operating a liquor distribution business, a retail chocolate factory, a men's clothing boutique, and a constellation of legendary nightlife hubs, including the supper clubs Fantasia, Maxim's, and Kazbek. It was during this vibrant chapter that he married Ina (born Farijette Hablishvilli), a striking Georgian model, a few years after she was crowned Miss Shanghai.

History, however, possessed a cruel rhythm. In 1947, as Mao Tse-tung’s communist forces advanced upon Shanghai, Alexis was forced to abandon his hard-won commercial empire in

a frantic getaway. Boarding a Pan American World Airways flight with his pregnant wife, he left everything behind once more, landing in Honolulu on Jul 20, 1947, with little more than

his refined palate and an unyielding will to survive.

Draping Nob Hill in Byzantine Splendor (1947–1972)

Settling in the vertical fog of San Francisco, the family welcomed their first son, Archill, on Nov 01, 1947. By 1953, Alexis had officially secured American citizenship, legally shortening

his name to cement his new identity.

That same year, directly across from Grace Cathedral on the crest of Nob Hill, he unveiled Alexis' Tangier at 1200 California Street. The restaurant was far more than a dining room; it

was a sensory embassy of the Near East and the Caucasus. To ensure absolute authenticity, Alexis demonstrated extraordinary patience, waiting over two years for immigration numbers to clear so he could bring world-renowned Russian chefs Vladimir Skvortsoff and Boris Philippoff out of political exile in Paris. These culinary masters, who had originally trained in the grand imperial traditions of Czar Nicholas II, crafted a menu that drew international royalty, high-society connoisseurs like the Duke of Manchester, and legendary gourmets such as Lucius Beebe.

When the original building was razed for redevelopment, Alexis poured his soul and a staggering $500,000 into a magnificent new venue at 1001 California Street, opened on Sep 13, 1961. Simply named Alexis, the restaurant was a breathless "dream realized"—a lavish sanctuary of gold-leaf ceilings, authentic Boukhara carpeting, shimmering Byzantine mosaics, and jeweled statues of ancient royalty designed to evoke the artistic heritage of his native Georgia, the mythical home of the Golden Fleece.

The 1962 Kremlin Miracle

Behind the glittering facade of Nob Hill success lay a profound, unhealed wound: Alexis had not seen or spoken to his mother, Dr. Maria Merabishvili, since his flight from Russia thirty-two years prior. Each believed the other had been killed in the tumult of World War II.

In 1959, San Francisco Mayor George Christopher traveled to the Soviet Union and personally visited the aging matriarch in Tbilisi, breaking the news that her favorite son was alive and flourishing in California. Alexis's subsequent attempts to secure her exit visa bogged down in years of cold-war diplomatic red tape. Recognizing the family's anguish, Mayor Christopher took the extraordinary step of writing a direct, personal appeal to Soviet Premier Nikita Khrushchev.

The intervention worked a miracle. On the morning of Mar 03, 1962, Dr. Maria Merabishvili—a fierce, 75-year-old practicing obstetrician and prestigious recipient of the Order of Lenin—stepped off a plane at San Francisco International Airport. The subsequent embrace between the elegant restaurateur and the silver-haired Soviet doctor captured the heart of the city, serving as a poignant symbol of human connection bridging the deepest chasms of the Cold War.

Sunset in the Napa Valley (1972–1983)

The rhythm of twentieth-century upheaval eventually gave way to the sun-drenched, pastoral quietude of the Napa Valley. In 1972, after decades of defining Nob Hill’s opulent hospitality,

Alexis Merab chose to step away from the kitchen fires, officially passing his culinary torch to his son, Archill, who would continue the family lineage at Archil's on Steiner Street. Alexis sought a tranquil retirement, settling briefly in Sonoma before establishing a permanent sanctuary in Yountville in 1981 alongside his second wife, Susan Reid Merab - a remarkably brave, independent British-born real estate investor and dedicated animal welfare volunteer.

In Yountville, the echoes of his aristocratic Georgian childhood came full circle. Surrounded by the rolling Northern California vineyards that naturally mirrored the historic valleys of his native Tiflis, Alexis spent his final years immersed in quiet dignity.

According to the Napa Valley Register , 1979, Dec, 10, Alexis comes to the Napa Valley because "life is informal” and “the ambience is so relaxing,” but soon he abandoned retirement and opened a bistro with his partners. "There is no compromise for good food and service. You must be known for both. People won't come because you're a good looking guy. To be in the restaurant business, you must love people. When I get compliments, I get satisfaction."

His passing marked the quiet conclusion of a cinematic life. As reported by the Napa Valley Register on Feb 03, 1983, Alexis passed away at the age of 73 on Monday, Jan 31, 1983, at Kaiser Hospital in Vallejo following a brief, month-long illness. The local print recorded the full grandeur of his migration, noting that the former "motion picture star... during the silent movie era" who had fled the Soviet Union to build a mercantile and nightlife empire in Tientsin and Shanghai, had spent his twilight years as a cherished resident of Yountville. His solemn Eastern Orthodox funeral was held at the Holy Assumption Monastery in Calistoga, attended by a grieving diaspora community and the high-society friends he had charmed for decades. Alexis Merab’s legacy persists through his family, including his son Ilya Jason Merab and grandson Nicholas Alexander Merab, who continue to call the Napa Valley home, anchoring the memories of an extraordinary, cross-continental odyssey firmly within the California soil.

Today, Alexis rests quietly under the ancient oaks of the historic George C. Yount Pioneer Cemetery in Yountville (Block 6, Row 14, Marker #252). His headstone bears the simple, enduring inscription: "Beloved Husband and Father" and a coat of arms of the Democratic Republic of Georgia (1918-1921) - symbol of Georgia's centuries-long thrive for independence and Alexi’s longing to return to his home country. Though the opulent dining rooms of Nob Hill have vanished into history, the legacy of the epicurean exile remains etched into the cultural geography of Northern California - a testament to a man who repeatedly lost his homeland, only to build a beautiful new kingdom out of linen, spice, and memory.

Acknowledgments

To the Georgian Association in the USA, for inspiring the initial project and to the Napa County Historical Society.

"Because we'd laugh so hard, we all stayed there": Memories of Napa's Small Pharmacies

Wed, 24 Jun 2026 18:27:32 GMT

by Lauren Coodley

Recently, San Francisco columnist Carl Nolte wrote:

“I’ve always liked drugstores, a place where you can get pills, prescriptions, all kinds of stuff, creams to make you look better, shampoo, souvenirs, trinkets, toothpaste, sunglasses, shave cream, moustache wax, magazines, all the small things you never think you need.”

Once upon a time in Napa, pharmacists opened small businesses and people strolled to their local drugstores. I collected some Napa locals’ memories of these stores, most of which were in downtown Napa. Louis Ezettie was a homegrown historian. He wrote:

"Joseph A. Maggetti, who announced his retirement last week after a long and successful business career, can look back with pride to his outstanding record of community service. When he closed the doors for the last time of his drug store in the Bank of America Building at the northeast corner of Brown and Second streets, it had this historical significance. It ended approximately 100 years that a drug store had been continuously in business at that location . It marked about 43 years in all that the genial man known for his integrity, friendly manner and pleasant smile, had served the people of Napa Valley."

Liz Reyna recalls:

"Jim Maggetti was a good friend of my mother and her sister (Phyllis and Miriam King). When I was six (in 1953) I was seriously burned in a fireplace accident. I remember the Maggettis gave me a book, “God Gave Me Friends.” It began, 'God gave me friends who every day help me with my work and play.' I still have the book."

Another beloved pharmacy downtown was Miller’s. Its proprietor, Robert Wallace Miller, died in 2025. His obituary explains that he moved to Napa at a young age, where he graduated from Napa Union High School and was a 1949 graduate of the University of California, Berkeley: “He worked first at Miller's Pharmacy in downtown Napa where he partnered with Art Fontana and later as one of the first pharmacists hired by Safeway when they began putting pharmacies in their stores. In retirement, he volunteered as a pharmacist at a local clinic. Mary Campbell writes:

“I remember going to Miller's Drugstore. They had a bookrack on the outside before entering. I bought the book Peyton Place and didn't tell my mom because I heard it was naughty. We both read it. I was 17.”

Carol Blessing adds:

"I remember Miller’s had a giant scale to the left of the door when you walked in. Two friends and I were helping each other lose weight. We went to Miller's weekly for the weigh in. Sometimes we would buy something. I think the corner Maggetti’s was on was one of three drug stores, Miller's being the other, 3 out of 4 corners occupied by drug stores."

Freedman and Dora Levinson were Prussian Jews in their twenties when they were drawn to California after the discovery of gold in 1848. Arriving first in New York City, they traveled to California via the Isthmus, up to San Francisco. They settled in Napa City, where Freedman Levinson opened the Pioneer Clothing Store on Main Street. He accepted gold dust as payment for goods and kept a canary in a cage outside of the store to entice shoppers. His son, Joseph Levinson, opened Levinson’s Pharmacy on the corner of Main and First Streets, where it remained for decades.

Later, it had the only X-ray machine in the entire area. Tim Streblow recalls:

“My grandfather, Albert Frommelt, owned Levinson’s… I spent a lot of time hanging out in the store as a child.”

Scott Lund recalls:

“My Aunt Janice Hague worked at Levinson's on Main St., late 50's early 60's. She spent a lot of her check next door at the pawn shop buying pawned diamonds which she later had assembled into a spectacular flower designed ring!”

Ron Savage remembers:

"Ah Levinsons, ha ha. I bought my first ever condom there. It was back when they were kept behind the counter. The male pharmacist thought it funny to say in a really loud voice to his female assistant... 'Dorothy, this young man needs a condom, please show him our selection.' It was so embarrassing!"

Another important pharmacy was Lovejoy’s. Cathy Mathews writes:

"Lovejoy’s Pharmacy was on the corner of First and Main Streets, directly across the street from Levinson’s on the opposite corner of First and Main. It was owned by Foster Roper, who inherited it from his uncle. He employed two saleswomen, one of which was my mother and his sister-in-law, Catherine Corbett Mathews, who would become my aunt, after introducing my parents. My mother had an absentee father, and Foster assumed that role, giving my mother away at her wedding to my dad. When we stopped in at the store, Foster would always take me in the back room where he filled prescriptions and give gave me Lifesavers. I was always very impressed by the large jars of pills and various medications. When my grandmother was dying of cancer and we ran out of pain meds and other necessities in the middle of the night, my mom would call Foster and he would get out of bed to bring whatever was needed."

Joanna Thompson adds:

“My husband worked at Merrill’s in the early 70’s. We were little in the 50’s and 60’s and my family went to all of the pharmacies. Great people owned those in our little town of Napa. back then. This brings back good memories.”

Stephanie Grohs remembers Courtney’s:

“I remember riding my bike from West Park house with my best friend Betty Hendricks to shop for hair accessories and various sundry items. We once found a paycheck of one of the workers in the parking lot that fell out of her purse and returned it. The manager made a proper fuss about our honesty but no reward was offered to our disappointment.”

Nancy Brennan writes:

"Mention Mary Doud’s name in Napa and the response is ‘Oh, she was so kind to my mother,’ or ‘Isn’t she the pharmacist who gives talks about cosmetics and perfume?’ Kindness and cosmetics--neither adequately cover the character of Mary Doud."

In San Francisco, Mary Durlo took the streetcar to the Pharmacy College on Parnassus, and, in her words, “marched in with my credentials and said ‘I want to go to college. I want to be a pharmacist.’” She was the youngest in her class and one of only six women. Upon graduation, she wasn’t old enough for a license, so she got hired at I Magnin, where Elizabeth Arden singled her out for special training in perfumery. By age 21, she had worked in many pharmacies in San Francisco and soon married her first husband, Richard Pescaro. In 1951, they heard that Arighi and Ballerina Pharmacy at 949 Brown Street in Napa was for sale. Mary and Richard bought the business and moved to Napa.

Mary became the first secretary of the Napa County Pharmacy Association in 1956, then the President of Napa Solano Pharmacy Association in 1965. She founded two scholarships for a high school and a junior college student, and was named Pharmacist of the Month by the Northern California Pharmacy Association. Their installation dinners were always held at Churchill Manor. She was often photographed in historical costume for the Napa County Historical Society, while her scrapbook includes many thank-you cards for her talk about the history of perfume in 1973. Family Drug featured over 200 different fragrances! The selection of jewelry was one of Mary’s specialties, along with her interest in encouraging young people. Claudia Rota remembers:

"I worked at Family Drug Store in 1969 while in my senior year of high school. Mary Doud was very strict and demanding. One time I went to work with a miniskirt and wire-rimmed glasses. Mary freaked and made me leave work until I changed to a more 'proper' outfit and regular glasses. I made the change because I wanted to keep my job. The other women who worked there and I were aligned, and we'd have so much fun breaking Mary's rules and laughing our asses off. I'd find Marie behind the cosmetic counter lying down on the floor to rest. I laughed so hard! We weren't supposed to ever sit down while at work. If there were no customers, we had to dust the store. All of us were tired of the rules, but because we'd laugh so hard, we all stayed there."

Family Drug’s 35 ^th anniversary, November 2, 1987, was celebrated with a dozen friends at a dinner at Riccardo’s Italian restaurant at 804 First St. Jess Doud, Mary's second husband, wrote: “Mary presently employs eleven people, and several have been with her for over ten years -- Gaylon Kastner, 27 years; Barbara Soltis, 22 years; Ruth Brandlin, 20 years; Tom Gracia has been there 12 years. It is one of only two independent pharmacies left in the city of Napa (there once were ten)... It is the combined effort of all these fine loyal people, Tom, Gaylon, Ruth, Barbara Vickie, Kay, Melodine, Gloria, Georgeann, Fred, and Martin, that has kept Family Drug alive and well.”

Tom Gracia died in 2016. Roxanne Gracia remembers:

“Tom was the main force at Family Drug. People would come in to ask about a problem. He always had a smile and would never let anything of the day upset him. He was the Hospice pharmacist for years. He'd get called in the middle of the night or during a holiday dinner and never got paid for the extra trips in to fill a prescription. Someone needed his help. Tom wrote off a lot of accounts to the underprivileged. We never received help or donations, but managed to give whatever was needed. We were very proud of the fact that we remained open during the worst recession of our time. Our employees had jobs. We filled the needs for people and animals…at one time we provided meds for exotic animals at Marine World and unique items for all kinds of pets.”

For a precious few years after Tom's death, Roxanne became the Pharmacist in Charge. “The place remained a gathering place, often reminding me of the show Friends. It was a friendly place of familiar faces.” When the property sold in 2020, the family decided to not to renew their lease. It was the end of the last independent pharmacy in Napa, a glorious history that deserves nostalgia, honor, and gratitude.

References:

Carl Nolte, San Francisco Chronicle, January 18, 2026.

Louis Ezettie, Napa Register , November 22, 1967.

Nancy Brennan, Napa County Record. July 2, 1992

All quotations from social media and emails to the author.

Napa's First Glider Club

Thu, 28 May 2026 19:29:55 GMT

By Marie Bowen

Originally published July 5, 2016

In December 1930, 38 years before the Calistoga Soaring Center opened on the abandoned Calistoga Air Field, a group of Napans formed the Napa Glider Club. Organized by Guy Winfrey, an 1898 San Juan Hill veteran, the group included Ernie Mollo, H. Baker, Bob Shearer, Pete Peterson, Phil Dobie, Harry Burrows, Réne Leplat, Joe Elmore, Harold French, Pop Gardner, George York, John Black, E. Low (from Solano County), and George Alan Prouty, whose father, in 1898, had walked nearly 500 miles from Skagway to Dawson. Mr. Prouty’s letter to Jess Doud, dated July 31, 1981, and his subsequent 1982 and 1986 interviews provided the information for this story.

With little or no aviation experience but much enthusiasm, the men paid $425 for a new Eagle Rock glider, which arrived from Denver in three large cardboard boxes, 18 feet long. Auto mechanic Ernie Mollo put the glider together, and the group took it to the high school grounds for its maiden flight. It crashed. And the next week, lifting off from a different location, it crashed again. Welder Réne Leplat and mechanic Harold French kept the Eagle Rock functioning and, eventually, the group moved its headquarters to the Filippini Ranch near Stornetta’s Dairy. As Mr. Prouty explained, “This was a great place. There were no trees and you could glide right down to
the Santa Rosa Railroad tracks. It was here that we built a pole hangar, made from old poles from PG&E. We built the hangar around the glider and were able to keep it out of sight.”

Once in the air, the Eagle Rock flew to a height of about 125-130 feet, with an average flight lasting about 30 seconds for about half a mile. It had a 36-foot span with 198 square feet of wing area. After the glider landed in a nearby field, it was dragged back up the hill by automobile. Then, as Mr. Prouty said, “We’d set it up and start all over again. It was a lot of fun.” The club’s secondary plane was part glider, part sail plane, with a 47-foot wing span. It allowed for a slight amount of soaring, unlike the glider which was, in his words, “simply a sled.”

The Napa Glider Club disbanded in November 1931 due to a growing lack of interest and a final wind storm that blew the Eagle Rock out of its hangar and into a field. Another reason for disbanding probably was the untimely death of Joe Elmore, “an excellent pilot,” when the plane he was flying stalled and crashed in mid-1931 in Utah.

Thirteen years later, gliders were at Omaha Beach. One of Mr. Prouty’s two interviews with Jess Doud provides some generally unknown facts about their use during WWII:

"The German Army was not able or allowed, under the Treaty of Versailles, to train a certain number of pilots... what they did was train their pilots in gliders, and they trained the very best…in 1939, they were able to put 10,000 first-class pilots into the field. The U.S. Army in 1944 on D-Day, sent over 2,000 fully armed troops in gliders…sort of a kamikaze operation, because most of those fellows knew they weren’t coming back…three gliders (tied) behind each bomber and each glider had 75 fully armed troops in it.

They took them to France and released them at about 1,300 feet... when you’re in a glider with no power, the only thing you can do is go down. Out of 2,000 men behind the German lines, there were about 50 percent casualties in deaths and injuries. But the idea was to disrupt the Germans and, at the same time, we had the paratroopers coming in at the top. The paratroopers had to risk their lives, too, because the Germans would snipe them…to a certain degree, the glider troops and the troops from the air made a big difference on D-Day, backing up the people at Omaha Beach. While they had tremendous casualties, they were people who volunteered for that job."

Reference List
Abandoned and Little-Known Airfields of California. Online at www.airfields-freeman.com/CA/AirFields
Oral History Tapes #37 and #89, NCHS Oral History Collection
Manuscript #79, NCHS Manuscripts Collection

The History of Women's History Classes at Napa Junior College

Fri, 06 Mar 2026 23:08:02 GMT

By Lauren Coodley

Originally posted March 7, 2025

I never planned to teach history, never planned to be a teacher, never heard of something called women’s history. I had no plans; I was a girl who grew up in the ‘50s, left home in the ‘60s, not planning a career. But by 1976 I was teaching at Napa Junior College, where Evie Trevethan, the counselor who ran the new Women’s Re-entry Program, suggested I create a class about women’s history.

Today, I take down from my shelf those dusty yellowed paperbacks that I turned to in the beginning: Sheila Rowbotham’s Hidden from History , Eve Merriam’s pioneering collection of short biographies Growing Up Female in America: Ten Lives , June Sochen’s Herstory . With these slim tools, at 26 years old, with no background in history–let alone women’s history–I began to teach. Because my students weren’t used to reading for pleasure, it was important to me to share the classics that writer Tillie Olsen had rediscovered: The Yellow Wallpaper , by Charlotte Perkins Gilman (whose utopian fiction we would discover later); Life in the Iron Mills by Rebecca Harding Davis; Kindred by Octavia Butler (which we only had in xerox form). We read Sister of the Road , a memoir of a woman hobo, as well as the letters of Calamity Jane, printed by “Shameless Hussy” Press. Students would write about the connection to their own lives. Andrea wrote: “Mary Wollstonecraft and her husband lived across the street from each other. Victoria Woodhull who believed in free love. All these women are inspirations because they show the messiness of life the way it truly is. These women show and prove by their lives that I can be me, live as I really am and be a success. They also prove to be wise warnings that sometimes there may be a price for a full throttle fight for the things you want.”

We would perform plays ourselves, using “readers theatre” where the students were given scripts the very day of the reading. We had mock debates and role playing. Students researched and wrote about their mothers’ or grandmothers’ lives, an end of class project that replaced exams and morphed into creating children’s books in homage to a female forebear.

Susan wrote: “I still can’t believe that Elizabeth Cady Stanton was not mentioned to me in all my years of school. I am 28 years old and I am sorry to say that I voted for the first time ever this year. I never realized the power I have as a voter and now that I have learned what it took to gain the right to vote I will never take my privilege for granted again.”

In the beginning, the classes were small, 15 or 20 students. The course was an elective, and no one knew what to expect. Every year, I asked the students to list the women from history that they knew of. After 35 years of teaching, the lists never varied: Rosa Parks or Harriet Tubman, Marilyn Monroe or Madonna, Hillary Clinton or Geraldine Ferraro. No suffragists, labor activists, or early women scientists, inventors, or artists.

Lisa wrote: “My new list would look like this: Elizabeth Cady Stanton, Mary Wollstonecraft, Susan B. Anthony, Lucretia Mott, Sojourner Truth, The Grimke Sisters, Elizabeth Smith Miller (Bloomers). I have learned of so many great women in our history I never knew before… I try to teach my female friends of these great women in history."

Jamie wrote: “All these women were strong willed and devoted to what they stand for. Like me I will not stand by and let people take advantage of others. I want to make a change in the world. I want to make it better for people that are less fortunate than me. These women should have been my role models instead of great men of the world. I want my children to have women and men equally as their role models. So when I do have children be it boys or girls I will make sure that they know everything I
didn’t as a child.”

I wanted to recognize the crafts that women like my grandmother created. I gave students the option to create quilts, embroidery, clothing, and recipes to honor the past. Seeing the young men in the class proudly displaying their quilts is a memory I’ll never forget. By the end of my career, there were 3 classes of 50 students every semester, and the class met the U.S. History requirement for graduation. After I retired, the requirement was removed. The class is now taught by one of my former students.

Sandra wrote: “This is the story of my life and the struggle of a world that was ignorant of my needs, and of young women in general. I have learned so much through your class about the struggles women face on every level. I have begun to see my worth as a human being and as a woman. I have been equipped with the knowledge that we all face undeniable injustices and hardships as women.”

One semester, I taught the class at the local school for pregnant teens, Hill and Valley. Ms Magazine had published stories of colonial women who posted warnings on trees about cheating husbands. The teenagers wrote their own versions of such warnings about the men they knew. Incendiary and cathartic to read them aloud!

My students wrote letters to the authors of the books they read. Neil wrote: “Being a man, I am thankful to have attended this class… I feel that I now have a new closeness with women that most men do not possess. There is a bond I have formed with the opposite sex that cannot be broken… I would have been right there beside some of the great women. Trying my best to fight for the better of humanity and mankind.”

In teaching “women’s history,” I realized there was a powerful common history of both women and men struggling to improve conditions in America and in the world. I became a teacher of United States, California, and even Napa history, finding and placing in those fields many of the inspirational figures that most of us have never heard about. The way I taught women’s history, as the pioneers of the field had created it, was a working-class and multicultural story about women’s lives and the social movements that brought changes in America.

I think there was a moment in time when a hunger for stories about women began. That was when women’s history was celebrated in the K-12 system; a group of us organized students to visit classes, dressed in period clothes. There are many children’s and young adult books now available about women in history, more biopics about women on television, and at the same time, a general lack of knowledge among the public. Museum exhibits and social media can help make up the loss of what is no longer taught in school.

Notable Jewish Founders in Napa Valley

Thu, 05 Mar 2026 22:10:06 GMT

By Ashlee Wilson

Jewish people have lived in the Napa Valley since the California Gold Rush of the 1840s. From 1849-1860, thousands of Jewish families came to the Napa Valley to seek their fortune by mining for gold. One such family was Friedman Levinson and his wife Dora, Prussian Jews who moved to the small Gold Rush settlement of Napa due to its mild climate, compared to San Francisco. The Levinsons opened a general store on Main Street in Napa, catering to potential gold miners. The store even featured a canary in a cage to attract customers. Freedman and Dora had six children, who would go on to become notable members of the Napa community.

One of their sons, Joseph Levinson, opened Levinson’s Pharmacy on the corner of Main and First Street, where it became a fixture of downtown for decades. It sported the first and only X-ray machine in Napa County for years. Another son, Charlie Levinson, opened his own ready-to-wear clothing store and became a founding member of the Native Sons of the Golden West. He was an active member of the Unity Volunteer Hose Company, a volunteer firefighter organization that served the city of Napa in its early years. Because of his involvement with the Unity Volunteer Hose Company, Charlie Levinson secured a place for Jewish services and ceremonies for Shabbat and the High Holy Days, at the top floor of the fire department.

Another prominent family in the city of Napa was the Shwarz family. Herman Shwarz arrived in Napa in 1871 and married Elizabeth Fleishman shortly after. Together they opened the Shwarz Hardware Store, which soon became the largest hardware store in the Bay Area. It served Napa, Sonoma, and Solano Counties. Eventually, their three sons, William, David, and Max Shwarz, took over the store. Herman and Elizabeth’s daughter Minnie was given an ornate Queen Anne-style home at 1386 Calistoga Ave in Napa as a wedding present. The beautiful home can still be seen today and has been renovated into La Belle Epoque Inn.

For further information, see Freedman & Dora Levinson: Early Pioneers of Napa, California and Herman Shwarz and Elizabeth Fleishman Shwarz: Early Jewish Pioneers of Napa, California , from the Jewish Museum of the American West, or Images of America: Napa Valley’s Jewish Heritage (Arcadia Publishing, 2012), by Henry Michalski and Donna Mendelsohn for the Jewish Historical Society of Napa Valley.

Napa County Place Names: Ned Soderholm, 1995

Tue, 03 Mar 2026 19:28:35 GMT

Manuscript: "Napa County Place Names" by Ned Soderholm

The following manuscript is an index of Napa County Place Names compiled by Ned Soderholm in 1995, including maps and brief descriptions of each name's location on the map. It was originally published in affiliation with the Napa County Historical Society, Object ID 2017.7.12.

NCHS makes this manuscript available for download for reference and research purposes only. Please contact info@napahistory.org for any questions regarding access.

Suggested citation, Chicago: Soderholm, E. P. "Napa County Place Names." Unpublished manuscript, 1995. Napa County Historical Society, Napa, California.

Napa's First People

Fri, 13 Feb 2026 19:57:17 GMT

The first settlers came to Napa County about 10,000-12,000 years ago. The Southern Patwin, so-called for their word pat-win, meaning “people," were a southern branch of the Wintun (or Wintu) that occupied most of the land around Suisun, Vacaville, and Putah Creek. [1] Named for the Americanized version of the Spanish word guapo in reference to their brave resistance against the Mexican conquest, the Wappo lived throughout the Sonoma and Napa Valleys.[2]

The Wappo spoke a unique dialect of the Yukian language, a group they split off from about 500 or so years prior to white contact. Like the Patwin, the Wappo were hunter-gatherers, consuming local seafood, deer, rabbit, fowl, acorns, and roots. They were famed for their basket-making. “Wappo villages were led by a chief, male or female, who was chosen for life. The villages were usually located along creeks, and were composed of oval grass-thatched houses... [They] were generally very peaceful, except for occasional warfare with the Pomo and
struggles against Spanish incursions in the Napa Valley.”[3]

The Patwin spoke a dialect of the Penutian language family. Like the Wappo, Patwin men generally wore no clothing and women typically an apron or skirt of shredded bark, tule, or animal skin. “There were numerous Patwin tribelets, consisting usually of a village with several satellite villages...dwellings, sweathouses and dance houses were all semi-subterranean, earth-covered structures.”[4]

Many places in Napa County derive their names from Native American words. Suskol and Tulukai were Patwin villages near the Napa River. Suskol became Soscol, and Cayetano Juarez named his rancho Tulucay which Americanos later converted to “Tulocay.” The Wappo villages of Kaimus became George Yount’s Rancho Caymus and the Maiya’kma became Serro de los Mallacomes or the Mayacamas Mountains on the western side of the county. Even the word “Napa” may have come from the Napatos Patwin village. Dr. Edward Bale, who owned Rancho Carne Humana in the upper valley, may have given his land grant that name as a pun on his profession because it translates to “Ranch of Human Flesh.” However, there are two other possible origin theories: it might have referred to the erroneous belief that the local Wappo were cannibals; or it might have been a failed attempt by Bale to write down the pronunciation of the name of the nearby Wappo settlement Colijomanoc or Callajomanas.

Anthropologist Alfred L. Kroeber estimated that prior to the incursion of white settlers there may have been nearly 1,000 Wappo in the Napa Valley and more than 12,000 Wintu state-wide. By 1843 there were fewer than 3,000 Wappo and Patwin combined in Napa County, though in 1851 there were nearly 8,000 Wappo throughout Northern California. By the 1970s it was believed that there were only about 50 Wappo left in California.[5] Kroeber reported that there were 22-150 Patwin left in California in 1924, although none were believed to be Southern Patwin; it is unknown how many Southern Patwin are around today.[6] Today the Mishewal Wappo Tribe of Alexander Valley has over 300 members and is the last extant band of Wappo in the area. Most of the 2,500 Wintun now live on rancherias in the North Central Valley.

Originally published October 12, 2015

Sources

Patti J. Johnson, “Patwin,” in Handbook of North American Indians vol 8, ed. Robert F. Heizer (Washington D.C.: Smithsonian Institution, 1978).
Robert F. Heizer, ed., “The Archaeology of the Napa Region,” Anthropological Records 12, no. 6 (Berkeley: University of California Press, 1953).
B. A. Leitch, A Concise Dictionary of Indian Tribes of North America 1st ed., (Algonac, MI: Reference Publications, Inc., 1979).
W. C. McKern, Functional Families of the Patwin, (Berkeley: University of California Press, 1922).
Alfred L. Kroeber, Handbook of the Indians of California, (Washington D.C.: Government Printing Office, 1925).; Leitch, 1979.
Kroeber, 1925.

If you have the opportunity, stop by the old county courthouse in Napa to see the Wappo Grinding Stone at the corner of Third and Brown. Wappo traditionally used portable mortars and pestles for grinding acorns and other foodstuffs. That this grinding stone is so massive and has so many holes makes it very unusual. The amount and depth of the holes indicate it was likely in use for at least 1,000 years. Perhaps it, or its original location in the Dry Creek area, held some ceremonial or cultural significance? The stone was sold to the City of Napa and relocated to its current site in the 1940s.

Napa County was also home to the Lake Miwok in the Pope Valley and Clear Lake areas. The Pomo in the north and western areas of the present county borders, the Coast Miwok in the south, and the Patwin in the east and north surrounded the Wappo, making the region very culturally diverse.

Rough Rider Manufacturing

Tue, 03 Feb 2026 22:07:46 GMT

Contributed by Lauren Coodley

"My grandma worked there when she was 16. Her maiden name was Marie Bonifacio and she lied about her age in order to work on the machines. I think she said you had to be 18. She was paid by the number of pieces she would complete. She said she was really fast and was usually the top producer.” –Kellie Fuller

Napa’s story was literally knitted together by people's experiences working at the State Hospital, at Mare Island and in factories like Rough Rider. Julian Weidler vividly recounted how he came to Napa to found the company. In 2025 there are still Napans who remember how their families worked there, when Napa produced clothes for the whole country. It seems like another world. Let's visit...

“I used to go see my mom and dad while they worked there, my dad Ed Gulke was a presser there for about 50 years in Rough Riders on Soscol Ave until they closed. I remember my dad being sent home on very hot days. that building had no air conditioner.” -Judy Gulke

Julian Weidler recalled, “I became associated with Rough Rider in 1932 while attending UC Berkeley and living in San Francisco.” He paid for his education by working at the Rough Rider plant in San Francisco where he was paid $40 a month for a 7-day work week. “The Chamber of Commerce told us that if we moved the factory to Napa they would eventually give them this 5000 sq. ft. of land, a lot between the river and the train tracks, on Soscol, half a mile south of Third Street. The chamber raised $40,000 to buy the land and within a couple of years they gave the land to Rough Rider.”

Raw materials were delivered by steamboat to the factory, fashioned into shirts, pants, and skirts, loaded onto freight cars—the Depot was at 3rd and Soscol—and sent across the country. The railroad was connected to the Southern Pacific Railroad; it would take corduroy fabric from Lowell, Massachusetts to the Rough Rider plant. Shipments from Lowell also traveled through the Panama Canal to the San Francisco docks, then up the Napa River on barges to the Rough Rider dock.

Rough Rider arrived in a town of 10,000 people. The company specialized in corduroy pants, and later sport coats and slacks. Weidler became the chairman and spent his whole life at the factory until it closed in 1977. As he recalled, “The first 35 to 40 people that they brought to Napa thought it was too boring and left. So, they started teaching people how to use sewing machines at the high school and hired right out of school, paying minimum wage for doing what is called piecework. Boys who graduated from Napa High could become apprentices of the trades at Mare Island. Girls were not allowed to do that, so making clothes was a good job for them.”

Eventually, hundreds of workers, mostly women, went on to employment at Rough Rider.

"My Gramma, Ruth Stukey worked there for 35+ years. She worked in the factory sewing as well as a treasurer for the Garment Workers Union. My Dad, Ron Stukey worked there from his early 20s, 1953-ish, till it closed in the ‘70s. [I have] fond memories of exploring the factory as a child. My dad was a shipping clerk. I remember the very tall stacks of slacks. I would go in the area where the ’cutters’ would be cutting many layers of fabric. The ‘pressers’ with giant steam machines. And then all the women, including my Gramma, sewing very fast.” -Stacey Flukey

Weidler explained: “In the 1930’s, a lot of customers couldn’t pay their bills and were able to run a bill for a year. Thus no banks were closed in Napa, people lived off the land and the plant became unionized in the 40s with the ILGWU (International Ladies Garment Workers Union) and we had a cordial relationship.” The Rough Rider Cookbook was published by the United Garment Workers. Along with recipes, this cookbook offers a list of unionized occupations in Napa, which included bartenders, retail clerks, musicians, dried fruit packers, barbers, cleaners, carpet layers, and grain processors.

"I remember going there for a tour when I was in the Girl Scouts. We saw the cutting and sewing. There was also a book binding area in the building. They showed us how books were restored and re-bound. An amazing place to visit.” -Valerie Exum

In 1955, Rough Rider bought the Cameron shirt company on Oak Street and made shirts for the military. Stephanie Vatz writes: “In 1960, an average American household spent over 10 percent of its income on clothing and shoes—equivalent to roughly $4,000 today. The average person bought fewer than 25 garments each year. And about 95 percent of those clothes were made in the United States.” Donald Grassman remembers that “as a Napan in the ‘60s it was the place to go for a beautifully fitted suit at a fair price.” Vera Gilpin adds: “As contestants in the Miss Napa County pageant in 1967, we received tailored pant suits to wear for various pageant functions. Green plaid, if I remember correctly.”

Sydney Allen wrote an article about Rough Rider for the San Francisco Chronicle in the 1960s where he described the employees as “casual and friendly” and cited “the revolution in male apparel. Rough Rider grasped the technology of tailoring knits and was into the fray all the way. ‘We can't keep up with the present demand,’ says Weidler. ‘We're exploring the question of expanding the factory right now. Our business this year is up 40%.’” The author concluded that “Rough Rider is shooting for $10 million volume this year, enough to rationalize any little spread of Napa fever.” By 1970, Rough Rider was one of the four largest private industries in the valley.

“I worked at the coat factory on Oak St. in the ‘70s. I started out as a ’bundle boy’ where I worked in the sewing area of around 20 sewing ladies and would walk around and pick up and move bundles of coats from one seamstress to the next. Then was moved to ’presser’ where I pressed the completed coat shoulders in steam presses. That position was ’piece work,’ where the more coats I could press, the more money I would make. I also worked briefly in the ‘cutting room,’ where I laid out stacks of coat material from rolls of material then cut out different parts of a coat with a pattern laid on top using a tool kind of like a jigsaw with a 9-inch razor sharp blade on it.” –Larry Scott, Jr.

Rough Rider still employed more than seven hundred people. Barry Nelson recalls: “My dad and grandma worked there! I used to go visit my dad and was amazed at the process—he was a cutter—cut scraps of fabric into a pattern, which was then sent over to the gals on the sewing machine.” But the mid-1970s saw the emergence of large textile mills and factories in China and other developing countries in Asia and Latin America. These operations offered cheap labor and raw materials, as well as the capacity to quickly manufacture huge orders.

By the late ‘70s, women's and men's garment industries had begun to shrink. By 1980, even though about 70% of the clothing Americans bought was still made domestically, a handful of big retail chains like Gap, Inc. and J.C. Penney began transitioning away from making their own clothes. Instead, they increasingly designed and marketed them, but outsourced production factories overseas, where the work was done at a tiny fraction of the cost.

“I inherited 5 of my uncle's Rough Rider shirts that he bought in the 1950s and wore to death, the shirts are still flawless.” -Frank Murphy

After 1977 when Rough Rider closed its Napa operations entirely, other Napa factories shut down one by one: Kaiser Steel’s Napa plant was sold in 1987, and Sawyer Tannery closed permanently in 1990. With the clanging shut of the great doors, the leveling of the buildings, and the transition of blue-collar workplaces to art galleries and tourist centers, scores of workers were displaced-- and young high school graduates lost the opportunity to work at manufacturing jobs.

The Rough Rider building was leveled in August 2002 so the eastern bank of the Napa River could be widened with marsh and terraces.

Sources:

Vatz, S. (May 24, 2013). Why America Stopped Making Its Own Clothes - The Lowdown. KQED (Online). https://www.kqed.org/lowdown/7939/madeinamerica

Lauren Coodley Interview with Julian Weidler (2003), included in Napa: the Transformation of an American Town by Lauren Coodley with Paula Amen Schmitt, Foreword by Carol Kammen, (2007).

Social Media posts courtesy of their authors; many thanks!

Napa History Articles

duda@neonone.com — Mon, 15 Apr 2019 17:23:24 GMT

Napa History briefs

Check out our articles below and stay tuned for more contributions! These articles have been previously published in our Tidings publication for members and are made available for free online for researchers, students, and other interested history enthusiasts. Please stay tuned as we continue to migrate these blog posts from our former website.

If you would like to contribute an article, please reach out to us at info@napahistory.org and we will be happy to discuss publishing your article.