The unexpected death of a young relative three years ago convinced Bryan and Laura Laing to talk about what they wanted to do with their lives.

They had good marketing jobs, a mortgage and two kids. But they were young enough, both in their mid-30s, to make a leap into something new and potentially more fulfilling. To do so, they would have leave behind the security of family and friends and embrace a life of uncertainty and risk.

"Honestly, we were scared," Bryan said. "We left our roots. My grandparents and parents are all from Northeast Portland."

They quit their jobs, sold their home and left the city to buy a small Newberg farm. There, they dreamed they would make wine under their own label.

"Honestly, I cried those first few weeks," Laura said. "I wondered what we'd done. I kept telling Bryan we could always move back."

What happened two months ago, though, convinced the couple they had made the right decision. A dark moment of feeling overwhelmed with what they had taken on became a beacon of hope for the future.

"I've never experienced anything like what happened that day," said Laing. "When I think about it, I cry, but in a good way."

The Laings both worked for the same Portland company and the extent of their experience with farming was backyard gardening. But winemaking fascinated Bryan Laing, who grew up with parents and relatives who shared wine at a meal, taking time over the table to bond by talking about what was going on with their lives.

Bryan and Laura Laing and their daughters, Ava, 4, left; Adalyn, 6, front

By chance, a family friend introduced Laing to a Newberg farmer who gave the young man some grapes so he could try his hand at making wine. Laing read up, and in his basement made five gallons of pinot noir. He seemed to have the touch and found it more emotionally rewarding than pushing products to the masses. He bought more grapes, and continued making wine, bottling it under the Hazelfern label, named because the couple's Laurelhurst home was on the site of what was, back in 1895, Hazel Fern Farms.

Then, a tragic accident forced him to take stock of his life. His 27-year-old cousin died in Hawaii when she was hit by a delivery truck that plowed into a farmer's market where the woman was setting up a booth.

"It was so random and she was so young," Laing recalled. "My wife and I had a life crises of sorts. None of know how long we have. What did we want to do with our time? We decided we wanted to make wine."

It was a bold and risky decision, one some friends questioned as crazy.

But the more the husband and wife thought about it, the decision made sense. Wine had always been a backdrop to the couple's life.

When Laura accepted Bryan's marriage proposal, he marked the occasion by bringing out bottles of wine, each with a note from him marking key moments of their relationship: An Argentina Malbec shared on the first date, a Chilean Cabernet Sauvignon shared the night of their first kiss, and an Oregon Pinot Noir from a vineyard they'd visited while dating.

With a loan, their savings and the proceeds from the sale of their home, the couple bought a five-acre farm with a home and a horse barn they could use to make wine and host tastings.

"When we bought a tractor, the man who brought it to us told me congratulations," Bryan said. "I had to have him show me how to turn it on."

They worked together, planted vines on three acres, turned to local winemakers for advice.

"It was like we put the roller coaster in motion," Laura said. "We got on board, buckled in and hoped we didn't crash."

While waiting for their grapes to grow to maturity for harvest, a three-year process, the couple contracted with 11 area vineyards to buy grapes they'd bring to their winery to create Hazelfern wine.

On Oct. 15, a load of 15 tons of grapes at the Laing farm arrived unexpectedly.

The delivery came at the worst possible time. A machine that separates the grapes from the stems had broken. And the Laings were expected at an annual harvest celebration for local winemakers, an event hosted by Chef Andrew Garrison.

"We were up to our necks in grapes," Bryan said. "We couldn't let them just sit there. My wife and I knew we'd be working 24 hours straight, inspecting the grapes for quality and then destemming them by hand."

Bryan Laing texted Garrison, apologizing that they couldn't attend the event. He explained what had happened and then joined his wife to deal with all the grapes.

Meanwhile, the chef took matters into his own hands.

"It was just the two of them out there at their farm," Garrison said. "It just didn't seem right."

Garrison quickly spread the word. He would bring the party to the Laings. While he prepared the meal, everyone would help with the grapes.

What happened was akin to an old-fashioned barn raising where the farm community turned out in force to help one of their own in a time of need. Word spread: The Laings need our help.

They arrived in cars and trucks, in all more than 30 people got to work on the grapes, selecting the best and destemming them. They stayed all day and into the night.

"It was so powerful," Laura Laing said. "You could feel the collective heart of this big group. All people did was show up and ask how they could help."

Late that night, work completed, Bryan Laing stood before the group and offered a toast. They had taken a leap of faith, trusting in friends and family. They had dared to change the course of their journey. The show of support that day proved the affirmation of the uncertain path they'd chosen.

"Thank you," he said. "This is why we got into wine."

--Tom Hallman Jr.

thallman@oregonian.com; 503 221-8224

@thallmanjr