You buy passage on a steamer and sail from San Francisco to San Diego. After all your travels, you are relieved to finally see the Pacific Ocean.
Your fellow passengers are all young men — most of them from the Northeast. You pass the time sharing stories of your hometowns; it’s amazing to you how similar all these towns seem when discussed half a world away. You long for Kinderhook, while your new acquaintances long for Wilmington, Delaware, and Piscataway, New Jersey.
Upon docking in San Diego, you and two other young men hire a stage to take you up the Sonora Trail toward Los Angeles. They’re going through to San Pedro, and invite you to look them up if you are ever in town.
CALIFORNIA CITRUS GROVES
Just off the stage on a country road, you see a sign that reads El Pueblo de Nuestra Señora la Reina de los Ángeles del Río de Porciúncula, but most of the signs read simply “Los Angeles”.
On your way into town, you pass Dreher Grove, and an old farmhouse with a sign in the window that reads “HELP BADLY NEEDED”. You knock on the door, and are greeted by a young farmer named Paul Dreher.
“Lemons,” Dreher says. “I need help growing lemons. We can get 50 cents to a dollar apiece for them. Interested?”
You hesitate for a moment. Picking lemons? Is this why you crossed the continent, risking your life and your reputation in the process?
“These prospectors need lemons to fight off the scurvy,” Dreher continues, barely missing a beat. “Hard to find a good meal out in gold country.
“Stages run these lemons north twice a week. You have any experience in the field?”