Japanese Settle on Signal Hill
For
many years Signal Hill was part of the vast rancho of Los Cerritos settled by
Japanese who established wonderful berry and cucumber farms on its
heights. Like many settling in the Long
Beach/Signal Hill area, the Japanese were relatively new arrivals, many came
via Hawaii.
In the latter part of the 19th
century, Hawaii began luring Japanese laborers to work on its booming sugar
plantations. This was because native Hawaiians, introduced to the diseases of
white men, were dying faster than they were being born. There was a severe labor shortage on the
Pacific coast when the Chinese Exclusion Act of 1882 was implemented. Wages
were substantially higher than in Hawaii.
As a result, many of the Japanese left Hawaii for California when their
contracts ran out.
In all of Southern California there
were only 58 Japanese in 1880, but by 1900 that number had increased to
481. Among those 481 were twelve men
from Wakayama, Japan, who had arrived in the San Pedro area in March of that
same year. One of the men happened to
turn over a boulder, near the beach, and, to his astonishment, found an
abalone. From this find sprang a
Japanese community that eventually thrived on Terminal Island.
Japanese farmers came to the area
around 1905, many of them tilling the soil
in small plots of land around and on Signal Hill.
Not content to remain farm laborers, the Japanese began to buy up agricultural lands, which the Chinese had rented for years, and to organize the
industry on a highly efficient basis. By
1913 the Japanese population of Los Angeles County was listed as 11,500. Farm
land owned in California by Japanese, 12,726 acres, assessed in 1912 at
$609,605. Farm land leased by Japanese was 1800 acres (LA Herald 4/22/1923).
Whites, threatened by Japanese
success as independent farmers passed the California Alien Land Law of 1913
which banned those born in Japan (known as Issei) from purchasing land in
California, but it did allow them to lease acreage for up to three years and
keep the land they held if under a corporation.
Subsequent state laws in 1920 and 1923 did away with this corporation loophole,
and in 1924 the Federal Immigration Act of 1924 banned all immigration from Japan.
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| Plasticulture, shown here, originated on Signal Hill |
Many of the Japanese who farmed Signal Hill lived between Orange and Temple and Orange and Cherry. Their surnames included Kato, Ujeda, Niito,
Yamada, Shimizu, Uyemotto, Shimazu, Nishimurri, Suzuki, Uehero, Horano,
Minesake, Tanaka, Yasadeke, Kodayashi, and Ogimatsu, according to the U. S.
Census. In 1912 these Signal Hill gardeners decided to implement an idea given
them by A. G. O’Brien who had come up with a novel way to make money during
winter. The Los Angeles Times (3/24/1912) described the scene on Signal Hill:
As
fast as long strips of sheer cotton can be stitched together, the sides of
Signal Hill are being clothed with white. Already thirty-eight acres are
screened from chilling dew and a sometimes too-ardent sun for the growing of
tender vegetables and strawberries for the winter market. In the past two weeks
132,920 yards of cloth have been sewn together and tacked to frames over seed
and plants in the ground. The areas of whitened gardens present a strange
sight. It does not require a very great stretch of the imagination, passing the
gardens in the moonlight, to liken them to snow-covered hillsides.
The cost of covering the ground with
the muslin cloth was around $200 an acre. O’Brien, the Times reported, had made a profit of $4000 on two acres of
cucumbers and strawberries under cloth within the last two months alone. This
new idea required hardly any cultivating. After irrigation, the ground kept in
moisture. The process of covering the ground was fairly easy:
- A one-inch plank was placed around the area to be enclosed and at intervals of every six feet, cross pieces were placed to support the cloth.
- Eyelets were then placed along the edges of the cloth, fitting on hooks in the planking, to help remove the muslin during irrigation, cultivation and picking.
When O’Brien took his cucumbers to
the Los Angeles market in late January, his produce was snapped up at prices
four times greater than during the summer, when cucumbers were normally being
harvested. He kept his secret for over a month before a Japanese farmer who had
leased six acres adjoining O’Brien’s decided to copy him. The idea soon
spread. By March 1912 there were about 25 acres of cucumbers, and over ten acres
of strawberries under cloth. (Muslin would later be replaced by plastic, aka plasticulture)
In August 1916 the Los Angeles Times reported the Signal
Hill Cucumber Association was asking for bids on 20,000 yards of muslin and 300
cucumber crates. This would make Signal Hill the largest agricultural district
in the country growing crops under cloth.
The Times went on to reveal
that Signal Hill growers had furnished more cucumbers the previous year than
any other area of the country with the exception of the Imperial Valley.
However, during the coming winter Signal Hill farmers were expected to exceed
Imperial Valley’s record when they put seventy additional acres under muslin
for the raising of cucumbers. When this
was done the south slope of Signal Hill would be almost completely covered with
muslin. This additional covered acreage would allow Signal Hill farmers to
increase the previous year’s output of 320 carloads of cucumbers to 500.
The July 4, 1920 Los Angeles Times pronounced Signal Hill
the cucumber capital of the state. In
1920 alone 60 acres produced 55,000 boxes.
How was the cucumber crop harvested?
It took between 50-70 days from planting to picking. Several crops could be
planted on the Hill during the year with the use of muslin. During the heat of the day they would lift
the edges of the cloth to provide ventilation. During harvest Japanese pickers
would go through the fields with sacks capable of holding 40 pounds of
cucumbers draped across their shoulders. A packing shed was set up at the edge
of the field with Japanese women doing most of the packing, in addition to
helping in field work.
The Cucumber War
Like other communities, the Japanese
settlement on Signal Hill had disagreements that often resulted in violence.
In May 1917 ten armed guards were
ordered by Sheriff Cline to watch the ranch of Tsuchisaburo Kato, a Japanese Signal
Hill farmer, who claimed that $20,000 of damage had been done to his crops by
enemies who employ "poison plotters.” Investigators for the district
attorney sought evidence against those who allegedly poisoned Kato’s cattle and
ruined his crops by spraying the plants with poison and tearing acres of plants
up by the roots. Kato charged that other Japanese had formed a blackmail
syndicate and that unless he joined their organization the poison war would be
continued against him. Kato claimed that efforts were made to have him join the
Signal Hill Cucumber Growers Association and that when he failed to comply he
was told that he would be ruined financially. (LA Herald 5/17/1917)
At issue was the fact that Kato’s
cucumbers grew so well on Signal Hill that they were the first ones to make it
to market. As a result his produce
commanded top prices. Other retailers
were upset that he would not hold back on selling his produce so all could
share equally in the profits. Kato preferred to remain independent,
particularly since his soil and location made it possible for him to harvest
the earliest cucumbers.
After a search which lasted for more
than two weeks, H. Kanzaki, was arrested in Coachella Valley. S. Fujishimi,
president of the Signal Hill Cucumber Growers Association, and J. Inukai,
secretary of the body, were called as witnesses before the grand jury.
Following a grand jury investigation, Kansaki, director of the Signal Hill
Cucumber Growers’ Association, was charged with having participated in the
$20,000 destruction of the crops and fined.
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| Farmland 1924 |
Life was not easy for the new
immigrants. In January 1917, the body of
Nagiach Nishizaun washed ashore in Long Beach.
Nishizaun, a well-educated member of an aristocratic Japanese family,
had left notes indicating he was going to commit suicide. His friends said he brooded over the fact
that he could never be anything but “a little brown man” in America.
The Signal Hill Japanese community
suffered another setback in December 1918 when a devastating fire hit the
residence of cucumber farmer T. Kiama who resided at Summit and Temple on
Signal Hill. The Japanese custom of using direct heat applied under the tub for
heating bath water caused the tragedy. The floor of Kiama’s home caught fire.
He was nearly caught in the conflagration, but managed to escape from his home
scantily clad, arousing neighbors. The flames from the house soon spread to the
other buildings, consuming three small cottages and a barn before they burned
out. In addition to the houses and furnishings a quantity of hay and $l500
worth of new cloth, to be used to protect cucumbers from frost, was burned. Situated
outside the city limits, the local fire department could not get to the fire
very quickly. Fortunately no one was
injured. (LA Herald 12/28/1918)
However, there were frequent joyous
moments in the Japanese community. In
July 1918, for example, 30-year-old H. Imamura, who had lived at Pine and
Nevada for 16 years, left for San Francisco to claim his bride. They had grown up together in Japan, and
vowed when 14-year-old Imamura left Japan, that they would wait for the
other. Imamura arrived in California
penniless. He worked hard, saving enough
money to buy a truck. He then used the
truck to gather fruits and vegetables selling them at a profit. In 1918 he
leased 40 acres of land north of Willow Street on Signal Hill to grow
potatoes. He decided he was now settled
enough to ask his girl to join him.
Cucumber Patch Becomes America’s Richest
Town
The July 6, 1924 Los Angeles Times featured this
headline: “Cucumber Patch Becomes
America’s Richest Town: Signal Hill, Garden Plot of Three Years Ago, Now Marvel
of Petroleum World.” In 1916 sunrise Easter services began to be held on
the summit of Signal Hill, worshipers climbing or driving up the winding roads
and narrow trails to sing praise to the risen Christ. But in 1921 things changed. Black gold was discovered. Houses, streets and sidewalks were covered
with sticky black tar; rocks that came up with the gushers broke through roofs
and windows. The time to leave had
come. Fortunately, many left rich,
having leased or sold their Signal Hill real estate. Yet things remained the same in the adjoining
gardening district for a while. In the
shadow of the derricks, farmers in 1921 were still tilling the land and
planting their crops. Celery was the big
cash crop of the year, grown along with berries to the east of the hill where
the soil was favorable to such produce.
To the west of Signal Hill acres of muslin could be seen covering acres
and acres of cucumbers. The thin
material helped diffuse the rays of the sun and accelerated the growth of the
vine. Recent rains assured the farmers of a plentiful year and they were
wearing smiles just like those of their new neighbors whose oil wells had just
“spudded in.”
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| Discovery well, Signal Hill |
But by 1924 things had changed. In
1921 there were 11,000 square yards of muslin protecting the shoots in the
cucumber beds, and Signal Hill was one of the most noted cucumber growing areas
in the country. All this was before the
farmers and home owners who loved the beauty of the Hill were aware of the oil
that lay beneath them. Soon the Japanese
farmers were displaced, their farm leases not renewed, many moved to Torrance,
Downey and Artesia. Within three years of the oil bonanza the farm fields were
gone replaced by oil wells and a new city---Signal Hill.
The 3-square-mile city of Signal
Hill was born April 22, 1924. The vote on incorporation was 334 in favor and
211 against. With an assessed valuation of $35,000,000 it was the wealthiest
city, per foot, in America. Having only 1500 population, the town’s per capita
wealth, based on the assessed valuation, was $23,333. Mrs. Jessie Elwin Nelson was the new city’s
mayor---the first female mayor of Southern California. Trustees included Dr.
Arthur E. Pike, Lloyd Williamson, Vernon W. Vore, Ray J. Miller, George H.
Cooper, who was also City Clerk; and Anna Goodyear, Treasurer.
City Attorney Don C. Bowker
explained their goals: “We want a good modern town when the derricks are gone.
We contemplate building a city hall, a fire department, a library, schools and
a jail, maybe.”
Oil operators said their wells would
be producing for fifteen years or a little longer. When the oil derricks were
gone even a small lot which sold for $20,000 or more when the oil boom came
would be worth a handsome amount as home sites. Reporter Syl MacDowell
described the future city: “Homes in a hilltop city, set apart like an Andes
kingdom and overlooking a panorama of harbor and industrial activity such as
early settlers never imagined.”
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