Destruction now began in earnest. Get rid of all the old restaurant fixtures and kitchen equipment (wine is not prepared over a hot stove, nor would the old bread oven prove useful). Tear up the tile floor—ah, but first test for asbestos. Chisel the plaster off the walls (and the pepper paper covering it, thank God), and, stroke by arm-numbing stroke, expose the brick. Give the brick wall an acid bath to enhance its appearance and, while you're at it, sandblast the whitewash off the fieldstone walls of the basement to show off the stone and 100 year old construction. Pull out 324,623 (we counted) nails from the molding and framing. Away with it all!

After a couple of months, the place still looked as though it had been hit by a small but enthusiastic tornado, but progress had definitely been made. It was summer, and time for Dan's introduction to the world of general contracting. Dan's brother and father are professional finish carpenters, so he's familiar with "the trades". Unfortunately, there were neither Measel nor Sparks relatives who were plumbers, electricians or HVAC contractors, so those jobs had to be hired out. Sounds easy! Call the contractors, set up the appointments, and make sure that the building is ready for whatever improvements are scheduled, then sit back and relax. Uh, no. It's not quite like that. Everything has to be retrofit within the existing structures and all the jobs are interrelated. Our wiring was vintage 1920's and the plumbing equally decrepit. We needed production facilities in the basement for our winemaking, which meant the installation of a new drain system in the existing concrete flooring. The furnace had to be replaced, relocated and walled off (by law, in a manner suitable to withstand a nuclear blast. Pentamere will never lack for a tornado shelter!), and ventilation systems installed. Gas meters had to be relocated outdoors and the old coal bin bricked shut. The hurry up and wait cycle of contract work would drive us to exhaustion and, it seemed at times, the verge of insanity.

 

Other challenges provided welcome distraction. For example, what to do about the fermenting tanks? These are tall and, when full of wine, very heavy. Not necessarily something you would want on your wooden floor. Since they were likely to end up there anyway, why not put them in the basement? Why not? Well, considering that “the boys” had to walk around like hunchbacks, due to the low clearance in the basement, and the biggest tank was twelve feet tall, we saw only one solution: whack a great big hole in the floor. Not only would this make the basement accessible for the honking big tanks, it would offer customers a vantage from which to watch the winemaking process. Furthermore, it would give us the distinction of being the only winery in Michigan that valet parks its tanks, in order to work on them. Now that little-known fact will go into the annals of history!

It quickly became obvious that there would be no October opening. This was a problem. Grapes have the annoying habit of maturing in September and October and only in these months. Whether the winery was ready or not, there were going to be several tons of grapes arriving—you guessed it, in September. The alternative: no wine to sell until 2003, hara-kiri for Daniel-san.

So amidst the ruins we had created, there came to be fermentation tanks. To get them into the basement, we simply (!) removed the (large) front window, built a ramp from the first floor to the basement (in the aforementioned great big hole, using the very handy 12" joists that had once held up said floor), then called out every friend we could get to play a little game of “hernia roulette”.

That dilemma resolved, the next hurdle presented itself. The State wouldn't approve winemaking until a Permit of Occupancy had been obtained; i.e. construction had been completed and the building was ready for public access. Of course, it generally takes anywhere from, oh, eight months to a year before the grapes you've processed have aged into drinkable wines and you have anything you can invite the public in to taste—but that was our problem, not theirs. Luckily, an angel (in the form of a higher ranking bureaucrat, who did understand that the egg had to come before the chicken in this case) saved our bacon. Again, the alternative would have been in the form of a long, curved sword.

  
 

At Christmas, one of our friends suggested that the winery needed its own song:

O Pentamere, O Pentamere
We won't be open 'till next year…

Dan was spared this bit of doggerel, which probably explains the fact that composer Bryan Alexander is still with us today. Thanks in large part to Dan's brother, Kevin, and father, Wesley, the winery took final shape in winter and spring of 2002. Their exceptional handiwork can be seen in the counter, railings, trim work and the stairway to the basement.

  

Opening day had been tentatively set for May 18th, Promenade Weekend. There were just two unsettled matters to be taken care of: the Permit of Occupancy and the Winery License (dramatic music score here—think Jaws…). You could say that there are government licensing requirements to sell wine. You could also say that San Francisco to Tokyo is a long swim. The State of Michigan and the federal Bureau of Alcohol, Tobacco and Firearms seem to be in competition to see how deep they can bury you in paperwork. In the end, after you've paid your filing fees, spent days of your life filling out forms and waited months for them to be processed, it all comes down to one agent. They come out to the winery, inspect it and give you the thumbs up or the thumbs down. Yea, and you're ready to open. Nay, and it's back to the drawing board. Of course, fourteen months into the project and out of money, back to the drawing board is not an option. More like, back to the nut house!

The inspectors came and went. Luckily, there was wine enough for all. On May 16th (talk about cutting it close!) final approval was given. It was a flat out sprint until the wee hours of the morning, but on Saturday, May 18th, 2002, we greeted the day, as Pentamere Winery. And there was great rejoicing.

  

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