My Great-Grandfather, Andrew Gregerson, came to America from Denmark, traveling alone as a 13-year-old boy on the ship Athena. He settled in the frontier town of Toquerville, Utah in 1863.

The climate and diurnal shift was excellent for wine grapes, and Brigham Young asked the settlers to grow and vinify Sacramental wine for church, and sell the excess to miners at nearby Silver Reef. Business boomed. Local folk called the wine “Toquerville Nail,” and in peak years production was over 3,000 barrels.

My nephew, on his own initiative, wrote these fun lyrics for a bluegrass song.

LYRICS

Red dirt roots, desert sun,
Vintage will mature.
Solve our problems one by one,
Is a simple cure.

It’s called Toquerville Nail, Toquerville Nail,
Times are tough, spirits fail,
Toquerville Nail.

Sipped in church it sanctifies,
Camp it leads to sin,
Manly drink fortifies,
Hair on Brigham’s chin.

He drinks Toquerville Nail, Toquerville Nail,
Times are tough, spirits fail,
Toquerville Nail.

Best enjoy temperance,
Firm and patient hand,
Homage to and reverence,
Best drink in the land.

It’s called Toquerville Nail, Toquerville Nail,
Times are tough, spirits fail,
Toquerville Nail.

Toquerville Nail, Toquerville Nail

(Snores)