By Jennifer Sawhney

John Volpi did all he could in his 90 years of life.

And, with his beloved wife Mary Lee by his side for nearly 70, he became known as a legend for how he lived.

“You can’t really tell John’s story without Mary Lee,” said his friend Harry Lewis, a longtime employee of Volpi’s Ristorante & Bar at 124 Washington Street.

Known for his unrelenting work ethic and welcoming demeanor, the patriarch of the Volpi family behind a family-run dairy and the popular restaurant where generations have gathered, died on June 11, 2026.

John’s story began in Petaluma on May 30, 1936. The son of Silvio and Mary Volpi, he came from a northern Italian Catholic family. A decade earlier, in 1925, John’s grandmother, Giovanna, and his father, Sylvio, had founded Volpi’s Grocery & Bar, according to an announcement shared by the restaurant. In the same, family-owned building, that business later became Volpi’s Ristorante & Bar, which Volpi oversaw alongside his wife.

To Lewis, Volpi was an icon in his own right.

Seated at one of the tables covered in a red-and-white checkered tablecloth outside the infamous back bar where Volpi worked, played the accordion, and befriended strangers for decades, Lewis recounted memories of his friend of 26 years.

“He had this quiet dignity about him,” Lewis said. “He was open, but respectful of everybody. He was curious with people, too, and engaging. I kind of think that’s why people were drawn to him.”

Volpi didn’t – couldn’t – fit in one category, Lewis said. Volpi was a dairyman, an athlete, an avid hunter, a restaurateur, an accordion player, friends with “thousands,” and, most of all, a family man.

He and Mary Lee, who would have been married 68 years in August, leave behind the legacy that is Volpi’s Ristorante & Bar, a place known for its traditional Italian fare, home-like atmosphere, and vintage bar dating to the Prohibition era.

Generations of diners have seen the Volpi family’s presence on full display. Several mounted deer heads in the back come from John’s hunting trips. He worked around the clock at the family’s dairy, as well as the restaurant. He was known for his tripe, Lewis said. There were also the years of accordion playing, singing, and boisterous Christmas singalongs.

“I used to have people call me in July and go, ‘Are you still doing the thing on Christmas? Are you going to be doing it?’ ‘Yes, we are,’” he said.

John and his sister, Sylvia, could often be found playing their accordions side-by-side, and were founding members of the Petaluma Accordion Club. Sometimes people would eat dinner, then return with their instruments to play with John, Lewis said.

Among his many talents, he showed promise as a local football star. He first played at St. Vincent’s high school (and was also named a most valuable player), then continued to play semi-professionally as a Leghorn.

“He was very proud of being a Petaluma Leghorn football player” before he was recruited to play at Stanford, Lewis said.

But when Volpi was 19, he put college aside to care for his family and the family dairy after his father’s untimely passing. He’d milk cows twice a day, then come down to the restaurant and help out, Lewis said.

And there were many other clubs and activities. He taught boxing, was a two-time black belt in karate, and practiced tae kwan do. He belonged to multiple clubs including the local Elks Lodge. He was a volunteer firefighter. He was a member of the Corda Brothers Gun Club.

Lewis relayed all this as he sat surrounded by photographs of many Volpi’s visitors. Whether they knew him for one hour or for decades, anybody who knew John became his friend, Lewis said.

Lewis was one of those visitors who became like family to Volpi.

“We kind of hit it off,” he said. They’d talk sports, music, current events. “Just ‘cause he was so fun to engage with.”

Lewis started working behind the bar in 2000, and has remained a presence at the family-run restaurant ever since.

He remembers telling Volpi when he first started, “‘You know, I don't really know how to do this.’ And he would go, ‘Hey, just be curious with people, engage them. Assume everybody is good and good-natured, and if they aren't, then you have to deal with that too.’”  

This was a reflection of John’s character, Lewis said.

“His nature was to be curious, be engaging, be social. See what's special in people or find out what is special to them, and you'll find out great things to talk about,” he said.

Lewis put John’s teachings into practice. “I found I can start a conversation with anybody,” he said. “Didn't matter what they look like, or who they were, or how they were or – it didn't matter. And a lot of that was from John. He gave me that example to live by.”

A lesson “that he taught me kind of early on was … judge a person by their character and not their appearance,” he said.

Once Lewis suggested replacing an old television in the back bar with a new one, Lewis recalled. Volpi replied that the area was a “conversation bar,” and opted out of a new set.

“This is not a sports bar,” Volpi told Lewis. “You come here to talk and interact with people.” 

That was a defining moment for Lewis. “That struck me and stayed with me, that the conversation is the most important thing here, and engaging with people and getting to know somebody else that's a stranger and becoming friends with them.”

In the days after John’s passing, many family and friends gathered at the restaurant to hear the accordion played in his memory. Hundreds have shared their memories with the family. Even the most recent Petaluma City Council meeting on June 15 was adjourned in his memory. 

John leaves behind Mary Lee, three children, seven grandchildren, eight great-grandchildren, and a legacy shaped by his beloved home, Petaluma, and his Italian roots.

As he often said, “Ciao.”