By Darlene Ison Evans

Some memories never leave you. They stay tucked away in your heart — like the sound of an old farm truck, the dust of a vineyard road, and the voice of your daddy saying, “Hop in the truck. I have something to show you.”
There are moments in life that become part of your very being. This was one of those moments for me.

My daughter Stephanie and I lived in Atlanta during the late 1980’s through 90’s. I worked in TV and then radio. Dad would often call. Sometimes to tell me he was going to West Point lake to fish for crappy and invite me to go. Sometimes it was a call with news from the farm. This day it was a call to tell us to come to the farm the following Saturday. It was September and that meant muscadine harvest season. He did not give us an option but to come and we agreed. He said he had something very special to show us.

So Labor day weekend around 1989 or so, my daughter Stephanie and I made the drive to the farm. As soon as we pulled into the driveway and walked over to the fruit stand, Daddy smiled and said, “Hop in the truck — we’re going to the vineyard.” It seems we always had an old blue truck with a side step as a farm truck.

The Ison’s fruit stand, welcoming friends, neighbors and customers. It is the best place to be in September. (Left) Aunt Mix, (Middle) Grandma Ison helping (Right) Granddaughter Stephanie Haynes

Just like many times before, Stephanie and I climbed into the truck beside him. We headed down the dusty dirt road that led to the Ison vineyards. Daddy drove fast with the windows down while dust rolled behind us. Stephanie and I held hands and laughed as we bounced down the road.

He was on a mission that day. Over bumps and potholes we went until he finally stopped the truck. He climbed out grinning from ear to ear the way only he could. He walked over to a vine that, he  gently pulled the vines back.

Suddenly I saw them. Beautiful rosy bronze muscadines hanging in clusters.

Then Daddy said words I would never forget. “I’m naming this variety after you.”

At first, he called it “Darling,” but before long the name became DARLENE.

It was such a special moment. Stephanie and I both reached for the perfect muscadine to taste. I will always remember that first taste — a burst of Southern sweetness that almost melted in my mouth.

Stephanie loved muscadines too. Well… I should say she loved the juice more than the skin or the seeds.

We had brought a camera because somehow, we knew this moment mattered.

Daddy rummaged through the truck looking for something we could use to write on.  He finally found a piece of cardboard and took out a pen and wrote my name across it in big letters.

“DARLENE.”

Then he handed it to me and told me to hold it. We took two or three pictures standing there in the vineyard beside those vines. Today, 38 years later, I am so thankful to still have those photographs.

Over the years, the DARLENE muscadine has become a favorite of people all across the South and throughout the United States. During harvest season customers call asking if DARLENE is available at the fruit stand, and many will drive many miles just to buy boxes of fruit.

*** Stephanie and I in the early days of the SUPREME muscadine variety. ***

My heart swells with both pride and humbleness as I sit here writing about it.

The description in the catalog and website says: 
The DARLENE muscadine is a beautiful bronze variety with exceptional sweetness and flavor. The fruit turns a rosy bronze color as it ripens and has become known by many as one of the finest bronze muscadines ever developed.

But to me, it is more than a muscadine. It is a memory.  It is a father’s dream hanging on a vine.
It is the love of a father. It is belief. It is family. It is heritage. It is the story of a man who built something from the ground up and poured his life into the land, the vines, and the people he loved.

He believed in hard work, honesty, humility, faith, and treating people right. He dreamed of building something that would last for generations. And somehow, through these vines, that dream continues to grow.

Thank you, Daddy.

Thank you for this special gift that will long outlast me. Long after I am gone, families will still walk through vineyards, gather around tables, and enjoy the DARLENE muscadines together. Some will say I knew the girl it was named after. I hope all of the memories to be made or remembered will be sweet. As sweet as this wonderful little fruit named DARLENE.

And perhaps one day, someone will find this story. A young man named W.G. “Bill” Ison had a dream and a passion for muscadine vines. He saw a future in this southern treasure and built a life around that vision.

Growing up at Ison’s Nursery & Vineyard was never just about plants. It was about family dinners after long days during harvest season. It was about walking vineyard rows. It was about packing orders together. It was about listening to Daddy talk about vines, customers, weather, and dreams.

The vineyard became part of our family story. Every season carried memories. Every row held history. And every vine represented hope for the future.

Daddy always believed the best things in life were built slowly — one season at a time.
He dreamed.  Then he did.

Today, when I walk through the vineyards, I still hear his voice. I still picture him driving down those dirt roads with excitement about what was growing next. And every time I see the DARLENE muscadines hanging on the vine, I am reminded that a name can become much more than a name. It can become a legacy. It can become a reminder of where you came from. It can become proof that love continues growing long after someone is gone

From meager beginnings, a simple farm family in Brooks, Georgia grew to become the leading provider of muscadine vines and the largest and oldest grower of muscadine vines in the world.

Many of the top muscadine varieties on the market today were developed by our dad alongside Dr. B.O. Fry right here on our farm.

I have so much pride in what he accomplished.

Dad, I am so proud of you.

Thank you for setting our family up for success and for giving us roots planted deeply in faith, hard work, and family.

I wish you could see what we are doing today.  You would grin from ear to ear.

And what I would give to hear you say one more time: “Hop on in the truck.”
That truck ride became more than a memory. It became part of our family story. My daughters story.

A father’s dream. A daughter’s name. And a legacy still growing, one vine at a time.

— Darlene Ison Evans