1932 – 2023

On a brisk March day, our beloved mother, Ann Marie Wisnovsky slipped the surly bonds of earth, put out her hand, and touched the face of God. He welcomed her to heaven, to be reunited with her beloved husband, Frank, who had been waiting patiently for her for the past 43 years. Theirs was a once in a lifetime love, a bond forged of friendship, partnership, and family.

Ann was a first generation American who filled her 90 years on this earth in service of her husband, her children, her grandchildren, and her community. She was a proud citizen, who voted in every election and was honored to meet and shake hands with two U.S. presidents. Ann was committed to community service and volunteered at the polls and at the local elementary school and library, helping young kids to read.

Standing at (almost) 5 feet tall, Ann was a force to be reckoned with to all who knew her. She was proudly Italian, which was announced by a sign in her yard reserving the best guest parking “For Italians Only.” She had a gift for cooking and taught her loved ones her favorite recipes from memory. Upon entering a kitchen, after a quick perusal of the refrigerator, she could determine exactly what she could make from the ingredients she found. She strongly believed that all her recipes required San Marzano tomatoes, imported from Italy, without substitution. This lesson was emphatically taught to a guest one evening at midnight, when he boldly challenged her tomato policy. Ann replied simply, “Get me a can opener” and opened a can of San Marzanos along with a sad imposter, proving her point, ending the discussion, and then cooking some sauce. One did not waste San Marzano imported tomatoes in Ann’s house.

Ann was born prematurely in her parents’ home in Clifton, New Jersey in 1932 and spent her first weeks on earth in a dresser drawer in their bedroom, too little for a bassinet. Ann contends that her terrible sense of direction stemmed from her early entrance to the world, as according to her, “God doesn’t give you a sense of the direction until the 9th month.” Ann had an unbroken record of never turning the correct direction when exiting a hotel room, and once, she wandered the halls of a cruise ship unable to find her stateroom which she finally concluded must be on a different ship.

Ann graduated from Clifton High School in 1950, and although she called many places home over her 90 years, she returned to Clifton for every one of her high school reunions. She met Frank while walking down Clifton Avenue on her way to work at the Chamber of Commerce. Frank was standing in a trench doing road repair work. The diminutive Ann did not realize how tall Frank was until he picked her up for their date. Frank was just 19 when he met the 23-year-old, but knew from that first day that he would marry Ann. Despite many obstacles, the couple married two years later. Ann earned an honorary degree from Newark College of Engineering for “pushing her husband through school,” which she proudly framed and displayed on her office wall.

Following Frank’s graduation, the couple and their children traveled the globe during his tenure as a Civil Engineer for Raymond International. From their kitchen in Liberia, West Africa, Ann prepared pasta for their two local Catholic priests, both of whom were named Manuel. Life in Liberia was not easy for the pregnant mother of two toddlers, and it is a testament to Ann and Frank that they gave of themselves no matter where they were or in what circumstances they found themselves. Ann encouraged Frank to the build the parish its first real school. The school that Frank and Ann built was the pride and joy of the Liberian community, and Ann proudly displayed pictures and letters from the students in her home.

From Africa, they traveled back to the states, and then on to Astoria, Oregon; Tiburon, California; and Annapolis, Maryland, before finally moving to Southern Oregon in 1972. Ann and Frank boldly gambled on a new venture together, a 75-acre piece of land in the Applegate Valley, outside of Jacksonville. Frank started a construction company, and the family planted Valley View Vineyards together. Frank and the four Wisnovsky children planted the grapes, with Frank driving the tractor and an assembly line of kids planting, fertilizing, and watering the new vines. Ann worked as the secretary of their company, Wisar Construction, and fielded subcontractor bids from the kitchen, while making her famous ham sandwiches for the family.

Just as the family’s fledgling winery was getting off the ground, with Wisar Construction set to be sold, tragedy struck when Frank was killed on Wisar’s final job. Ann boldly chose to continue their vision, and soon their Valley View wines were on store shelves across America. Ann continued to make ham sandwiches for the crush annually, while she managed the operations of Valley View from the desk in her bedroom well into her 70’s.

Ann loved to travel the world and did so with several great friends, her children, and her grandchildren. She kept a running count of the number of countries that she had visited but was most grateful for her trip through the Panama Canal with Frank shortly before his death. Ann was a great fan of musical theater, attending shows in New York on Broadway with her friends, then with Frank, and then continued the tradition with her daughter and granddaughters. Mama Mia and Hamilton ranked among her favorites.

One of Ann’s greatest joys was her grandchildren, seven in total, and she proudly attended their plays, their games, and their graduations in Oregon and California. She was a stickler for proper grammar and a good vocabulary, and while the rest of the world had moved to Google, Ann still consulted her four-inch thick dictionary. Ann gifted each of her children their own giant dictionary when one by one they set off for college. Her command of the kitchen extended to the proper way that it should be cleaned, and one of her granddaughters still has Grandma’s handwritten instructions, “How to Properly Clean the Kitchen” taped to the pantry cabinet.

For the past ten years, Ann split her time between Jacksonville, Oregon and San Diego, California before moving to San Diego permanently in 2019. She loved the ocean and would often go to lunch at Poseidon, requesting a table by the water. It was there that she celebrated her 90th birthday last August with a glass of scotch, fish and chips, close friends, and family.

Ann is a tribute to the American Dream, the gift of adversity, and the value of hard work and perseverance. Her passing leaves an (almost) five-foot hole in our hearts.

A memorial service will be held Saturday, May 27, at 11am, at Shepherd of the Valley Catholic Church in Central Point.