Before Diversity Became a Loaded Term, Paul Gee Was Making Wine History

Northern California’s first Chinese American vintner reflects on a lifetime of farming, resilience, and quiet revolution

When Paul Gee walks through his vineyard in Napa’s Carneros region, he’s not thinking about legacy. At 88, he’s more focused on the vines themselves—head-trained, dry-farmed Pinot Noir that has quietly become some of the most coveted fruit in the valley. And yet legacy is exactly what he’s built.

Gee is the first Chinese American vintner in Northern California. He’s a man of few words, but is viewed as a local celebrity whose storied journey into wine has left a meaningful impact on California’s wine history that goes far beyond the bottle.

“I feel very proud to be the first Chinese grape grower in Northern California,” he says. “It was only a century before I started my vineyard that Chinese laborers were forced out of nearby Sonoma for being different. I hope that me running my own vineyard and growing grapes encourages others in the Chinese American community to do the same if it’s their dream.”

From Toisan to Carneros

That dream was born in a rice field, long before he ever saw the vineyards of Napa. Gee grew up in the rural village of Toisan, China, helping his mother grow rice, peanuts, and sweet potatoes. “During my early years in China, when I was seven or eight, I helped my mom grow rice in the rice field,” he recalls. “Farming in China isn’t really like farming in Napa, but the work ethic and importance of timing during harvest are similar.”

Gee immigrated to the United States in 1951, eventually landing in Kansas, where he earned a doctorate in chemistry. It wasn’t until the 1970s, after he and his family relocated to San Francisco, that Napa entered the picture. “My mom really wanted to get a plot of land to plant vegetables,” Gee says. “We chose to buy land in Napa Valley because my close friend Frank ‘Harry’ St. Clair… had his own vineyard, just a mile from the piece of property I bought.”

Planting a Legacy

The purchase marked the start of something remarkable. Gee, with help from his children and his father, planted 17 acres of Pinot Noir in 1984—by hand.
“After school and Dad’s work, we’d ride in his red Chevrolet pickup truck and head to ‘the farm,’ as our family called it, to work on the new section [of grapevines],” recalls Gee’s youngest daughter, Stephanie. “He drove the tractor with the large water tank, and I watered each rootstock or placed the milk cartons and the rootstocks after he dug a fresh hole. We spent quality father-daughter time, just the two of us chatting across the vines.” Stephanie grew along with the vines, later helping with bottling and picking, and relishing in the family’s famous annual gatherings.

Guided by St. Clair, Dr. Gee adopted traditional methods that emphasized sustainability and resilience. “We decided to plant Pinot Noir and dry-farm because my friend Harry, who taught us how to farm grapes, and other producers in the Carneros area were growing this variety with great success,” he says. “Dry-farming involves a lot of watering in the beginning when they are rootstocks, but once the roots grow deep down in the soil, we didn’t have to water anymore… This type of farming makes the Pinot Noir tastier because the root has to dig deeper into the soil and work harder to get water.”

Gee’s vines are pruned using a head-trained method, which requires little to no irrigation once established—a technique that aligns with the rugged, minimalist farming style of his upbringing. But this wasn’t about chasing a trend or marketing. It was about practicality. “We chose to head-train the vines because this pruning method requires little to no irrigation,” he explains.

Over the years, his Pinot Noir has attracted a loyal following. In fact, he’s only ever sold his grapes to one winery: Bouchaine Vineyards, one of the oldest continuously operating wineries in the region. “Dry-farming my grapes, making them dig deep into the volcanic soils of our vineyards, develops fruit that is earthy and fruity with vibrant minerality,” says Gee. “My relationship with Bouchaine has lasted all this time because I liked working with them… especially [Bouchaine president and winemaker] Chris [Kajani], who regularly walks through the vineyards with me.”

Bouchaine produces a single-vineyard Pinot Noir from Gee Vineyard that regularly takes top scores from critics and holds a special place in the Bouchaine portfolio. “Not only do the roots and flavors run deep, but so does our decade’s long friendship with Dr. Gee,” notes the Bouchaine website of the vineyard designate bottling.

More Than Wine History

If Gee’s story has the quiet cadence of an American pastoral, it’s one with deeper undertones—of perseverance, of displacement, and of quiet reclamation. His presence in Napa stands in contrast to the history of Chinese marginalization in California, where laborers once built railroads, terraced vineyards, and dug wine cellars, only to be systematically erased from the industry they helped create thanks to the Chinese Exclusion Act of 1882.

That’s what made one particular moment in 2022 especially powerful: when Napa Mayor Scott Sedgley presented Gee with the key to the city. “It was very nice… I was overjoyed and surprised,” he says. That same year, he was the subject of a short documentary about his life, From Toisan Rice Field to Napa Grape Field. “People who watched the film enjoyed it. After it came out, I got lots of calls from people telling me that they finally discovered that there are Chinese grape growers, and they never knew that before,” he says with the same quiet humility that seems to have guided his path from the beginning.

Gee’s story arrives at a time when the wine industry is increasingly reckoning with issues of representation and inclusion. As AAPI Heritage Month and Chinese New Year approach, his presence serves as both a historical corrective and a beacon for the future.

“I think it’s great that there are more Asian Americans in the wine community and that the industry is growing more diverse,” he says. “It’s good to have people of all different backgrounds bring different perspectives, experiences, and palates to the wine industry.”

Still, Gee doesn’t spend much time thinking about what it all means. His vineyard keeps him busy. “I enjoy growing grapes,” he says simply. “That’s what keeps me doing it after all these years.”

That kind of endurance—rooted in purpose more than recognition—feels increasingly rare. And for those who might want to follow in his footsteps, his advice is as straightforward as it is powerful: “I would encourage them to go into the business—just go do it!”