“A loveless land, a starved region where every green branch is dearly prized.”
— Early visitor to southern California
“California is a fine place to live — if you happen to be an orange.”
— Comedian Fred Allen, December 1945
Between the time of the metallic gold rush at Sutter’s Mill and the celluloid gold rush in Hollywood, the state of California had an orange gold rush. In the early 20th Century, people came from throughout America, especially its midsection, to strike it rich in citrus farming out West. Once word got out that the land roughly 60 miles east of Los Angeles had soil and climatic conditions perfect for growing lemons and oranges, folks hopped into their Model T’s or boarded trains to head West.
Typical were young marrieds Frank and Hannah Nixon from Ohio, who hoped to find their dream amid the palm trees and dusty small towns here. The Nixons settled in Yorba Linda, but Frank Nixon suffered a bust before he ever got a chance to experience a semblance of a boom. The Nixons then quit the citrus farming business and moved to Whittier, where they ran a store and gas station. Son Richard helped out, 45 years before he was elected 37th president of the United States.
The story of those like the Nixons is told at one of California’s newest state parks, California Citrus State Historic Park. It is appropriately located where the orange gold rush began, in the Arlington Heights section of Riverside.
State Park Ranger Andre Ramos says the park was established for two reasons: to interpret the industry that had such an enormous impact on this region’s economy, and to preserve a vestige of the free-standing orange groves that once covered this land.
Park volunteer and third generation Riverside citrus farmer Bob Lynn estimates that perhaps 20 percent of the region’s once expansive citrus groves still exist. About 160 acres are preserved in the park, which serves as both a history lesson and a refuge for urban dwellers.
Groups, families and individuals come here for the reasons they go to any oasis of greenery — to play and picnic. With rock curbing and exposed beams, the picnic area looks like one would have appeared around the time of World War I.
Yet people also come here to learn. Greeting you as you drive into the park is a replica of an early 1920s fruit stand, complete with giant faux orange resembling Paul Bunyan’s basketball. It’s a reminder of a time when one could find dozens of similar farm stands along the state’s roadsides.
The air-conditioned automobile, which greatly reduced the need for a cold drink on a sweltering California day, along with the multi-lane freeway relegated the mom-and-pop fruit stand to oblivion.
Ironically, the citrus industry played a role in the advent of California’s freeways. Like any gold rush, this one caused people to migrate en masse. Ramos said that to lure workers, growers covered orange crates with labels illustrating Southern California at its most beautiful. The views of palm trees backed by snow-capped mountains were a powerful enticement for winter-weary and career-hungry Midwesterners.
So the people came and built and built and built, and within a few decades urban jungles stood where orange groves once thrived. A visitor center, opened in 1998, tells more tales of the oranges. Step inside and try to guess what those weird-looking pot-bellied gadgets are. Known as smudge pots or orchard heaters, they were placed near orange trees to keep them alive on cold winter nights that strike even Southern California.
What is surprising to some is that the fruit that brought people like flies to California is not native. One learns through historic displays in the interpretive center that Spanish missionaries introduced citrus to California more than 200 years ago. However, the industry began in earnest in 1873, thanks to a Presbyterian missionary living in Bahia, Brazil.
She tasted a sweet, seedless orange and was so impressed that she sent samples of the tree to the United States Department of Agriculture in Washington. An agriculture department employee sent two small Bahia trees to a friend named Eliza Tibbets who lived in Riverside. Tibbets planted them in her front yard. Both original trees are in downtown Riverside, preserved, still growing and noted by a state historic marker.
Display cases in the state park interpretive center contain reproduced citrus labels, shipping crates and other remnants of the orange business’ salad days, such as a color-filled poster celebrating “Orange Day, March 20, 1915.” Vintage photos and historic commentaries embellish the story of the fruit and the industry. For example, the Bahia orange was renamed the Washington navel orange, then simply the navel orange, because the little mark on its base bears a strong resemblance to the human belly button.
Says Bob Lynn, “Most look like outies, some are innies, but the navel orange became popular because it has a heavier rind than other oranges, making it easier to peel.”
Supplying most of the labor to cultivate and pick the fruit were Chinese, Japanese and Hispanic immigrants. Koreans, Filipinos and Italians also worked the groves, but in lesser numbers. But the father of California citriculture was a Canadian, Matthew Gage, who invested in an orange grove upon his arrival here in 1881, less than a decade after the debut trees were planted. Gage then proceeded to accomplish something that made citrus farming possible for all the residents of this region.
A glance at the surrounding brown hills reminds one that California isn’t Florida. Here, water is a precious resource. In four years, Gage built a canal nearly 12 miles long to divert water from the Santa Ana River in San Bernardino to Riverside. Like many California waterways the Gage Canal was eventually lined with cement. Matthew Gage’s liquid offspring can be seen today on a mile-long walking tour of the park.
The leisurely trek along the gravel path also takes you up a gradual grade to the top of an incline where you have an unencumbered vista of the groves backed in the distance by a line of palm trees and the terra-cotta hills of Southern California. Ramos said it was common for growers to build on hillsides in order to have one view of their whole property. Rows of palm trees were often put in simply for show.
And should you think citrus is just oranges and grapefruit, inspect the fruit growing in the living collection. There are 76 varieties here, several exotic and wholly impractical. Strangest might be the fingered citron. This batch of green “fingers” hanging from a limb will turn orange, but will never meld into a ball or oval like other citrus fruits.
It will still look like a batch of fingers when ripe, yet even the most astringent sourpuss might be hesitant to drink its juice, which is best used when boiled and made into fruit cake.
What happens to all the more common citrus grown here? The land is leased to area growers who maintain it. Everything that can be picked is sold commercially, with 60 percent of the profits returned to the park.
IF YOU GO
GETTING THERE
California Citrus State Historic Park is at 9400 Dufferin Ave. in Riverside (entrance corner of Van Buren Boulevard and Dufferin). The park is open 8 a.m.-5 p.m. daily (until 7 p.m. in summer).
The visitor center is open 11 a.m.-3 p.m. weekends. Guided walking tours lasting roughly 30 to 40 minutes take place on the second and fourth Saturday of each month at 10 and 11 a.m.
There are ambitious plans for the park, including a new 5,000-square-foot visitor center/museum and replicas of a period workers’ camp and a wealthy grower’s mansion. No target date has been established for the expansion.
NEARBY SITE
The parent navel orange trees are located at the corner of Magnolia and Arlington Avenues in downtown Riverside. There is no charge for viewing.
LODGING
Mission Inn, 3649 Mission Inn Ave., Riverside (909-784-0300), is a national historic landmark worth a visit even if you are not staying there; doubles: $129-$850.
Courtyard by Marriott, 1510 University Ave., Riverside (909-276-1200); doubles: $89.
Econo-Lodge, 10705 Magnolia Ave., Riverside (909-351-2424); doubles: $35-$45.
INFORMATION
California Citrus State Historic Park, 1879 Jackson St., Riverside, CA 92504; 909-780-6222.
