Harriet Beecher Stowe resided in a lush sanctuary filled with oranges, her windows framing a picturesque view of vibrant groves bearing brilliant golden fruit and fragrant, silky blossoms all around her home.
The Connecticut author and abolitionist, renowned for her impactful work “Uncle Tom’s Cabin,” nurtured an impressive acre and a half of citrus trees while living in the quaint winter retreat of Mandarin, a neighborhood that is now part of Jacksonville. This modest orchard yielded a staggering 60,000 fruits annually, each piece celebrated and cherished by Beecher Stowe for its beauty and flavor.
“The fragrance has a stimulating effect on our nerves, a sort of dreamy intoxication,” she beautifully articulated in the 1873 travel guide “Palmetto Leaves,” illustrating her passion for the aromatic delights of her citrus trees.
The oranges sold in New York markets, she lamented, “have not even a suggestion of what those golden balls are that weigh down the great glossy green branches of yonder tree,” highlighting the stark difference between the fruits of her orchards and those found in distant markets.
Florida’s citrus industry took root in St. Augustine during the 1500s, beginning its journey with merely a handful of seeds that were brought over on a Spanish ship. These seeds sprouted into a beautiful display, showcasing the complexities of colonial expansion amidst the backdrop of oppression and brutality.
The industry flourished in the state’s northern regions, where the heat and humidity mirrored the tropical origins of these citrus crops from Southeast Asia, establishing a rich agricultural tradition. Yet, this growth faced significant hurdles with the advent of severe frosts.
In February 1835, the Great Freeze gripped the region, with temperatures plummeting so dramatically that people could walk on the icy surface of the St. Johns River. Citrus groves, once vibrant, succumbed to the chill as their fruits fell to the ground with a defeated thud, prompting many growers to migrate south in search of warmer climates. Another harsh freeze from December 1894 to February 1895 forced the remaining growers to relocate as well.
The steady southward movement of citrus cultivation continued throughout the 20th century, with Polk, Hendry, and DeSoto Counties emerging as industry frontrunners. However, a tiny invasive pest, no larger than a grain of rice, spread a devastating multibillion-dollar disease throughout the groves.
From 2003 to 2023, orange production in Central and South Florida plummeted by an astonishing 92%, a decline that has cost the region a loss of acreage equivalent to the size of Atlanta within just the past five years.
Conversely, during the same period, citrus acreage in Northern Florida—from Levy to Escambia County—has remarkably doubled, marking a resurgence in interest and investment in citrus cultivation in areas once overshadowed by their southern counterparts.
As Central and South Florida farmers continue to battle the invasive pest, their northern counterparts are enthusiastically embracing a new chapter in the citrus narrative, over a century after Harriet Beecher Stowe tended to her groves.
Equipped with modern irrigation technology unavailable to her generation, these new producers cultivate the sandy soil and enjoy a winter climate that has warmed significantly, resembling the pleasant weather of the 1890s springs.
In addition to their cold-hardy citrus varieties and redefined brand identity, these growers are resolutely confronting both age-old challenges and novel obstacles in the evolving market.
The strategy protects Satsuma mandarins, Hamlin oranges, and grapefruit from the region’s biggest threat: the cold.
Louise Divine and Herman Holley of Turkey Hill Farm purchased their picturesque land in 1999, transforming it into a flourishing patch of agricultural diversity. The couple grows an assortment of produce, including figs, grapes, ginger, turmeric, and various turnip types, which they sell at local farmers’ markets and to nearby restaurants.
They initiated their citrus journey in the early 2000s, starting with just four trees. Today, their collection has blossomed to 35 trees. However, given their limited scale, Holley prefers to identify as market gardeners, maintaining that citrus is simply part of their diverse farming approach. “It’s quite a viable thing on a small, diversified farm,” he notes.
Currently, small groves like Turkey Hill’s represent the prevalent model in the region. Notably, six counties in North Florida maintain only single-digit acreages of citrus, indicating the nascent stage of the local industry.
Most of the trees in Tallahassee are relatively young, having only been planted six to eight years ago. Their tender green forms are particularly vulnerable to freezes, posing a significant risk to their survival.
The North Florida varieties of mandarins, sweet oranges, and grapefruit are known for their natural cold-hardiness, often being grafted onto the robust rootstock Poncirus trifoliata to bolster frost resistance. Nevertheless, even these hardiest of fruits struggle when faced with frigid temperatures.
In December 2022, chilling conditions swept through the region, bringing unexpected challenges to local citrus growers.
Temperatures throughout the area dipped below 30°F for six continuous days, leading growers to hurriedly irrigate their groves in a race against time, all while preparing for the holiday festivities.
“Nobody expected that,” lamented Holley, who referred to the frigid episode as a “killer” for unharvested fruits and the overall health of the trees, leading to a reduction in canopy size and damaging “freeze cracks” in the bark, which serve as vulnerable entry points for pests and diseases. The historical parallels to the Great Freeze of the past resonated with everyone involved.
Despite the loss of significant portions of their crops, many farmers leveraged innovative techniques unavailable to their 19th-century predecessors. These modern strategies encompassed icy tunics to shield against wind chill and micro-irrigation systems to capture the warmth emitted from freezing water.
In the season following the freeze, some growers viewed the barren landscape as evidence against the sustainability of citrus farming in such northern latitudes.
Others, however, remained optimistic, viewing the freeze as an unusual anomaly. Climate change has been making winters progressively warmer nationwide, with evidence showing that the average winter temperature in Tallahassee has increased by 3.8°F from 1970 to 2022. Furthermore, the frequency of cold snaps has shortened by five days during this timeframe.
Interestingly, even the recent Christmas freeze was warmer than those of previous decades, with the lowest recorded temperature in Tallahassee reaching 19°F, in stark contrast to the historical Great Freeze’s record low of 11°F.
While it was true that Turkey Hill suffered considerable crop losses in 2022, the following season rebounded with warmer weather and healthy yields. A year later, Holley discovered a resilient tree in his grove and, touching its dimpled orange rind, fondly remarked, “it came back.”
The very temperatures that threaten Panhandle citrus crops simultaneously enhance them, resulting in fruits that brim with sweetness.
The extended cold weather typical of the North prompts trees to naturally increase sugar production in their fruits—a critical survival mechanism that has also become part of the marketing story for Sweet Valley Citrus, a rapidly developing brand endorsed by the Cold Hardy Citrus Association.
Founded in 2017 by growers Kim Jones of Florida Georgia Citrus in Monticello and Mack Glass of Cherokee Satsumas in Marianna, the nonprofit organization now comprises around 40 members from North Florida and southern regions of Georgia and Alabama, working collaboratively to elevate local citrus farming.
“We formed this association to get people interested in growing citrus trees and planting groves,” explained Buster Corley, the association’s president and owner of Southern Tree Source in Monticello. As interest in establishing a niche citrus industry grew in the region, the focus shifted toward marketing and promoting local production.
With the expansion of groves to approximately 9,000 acres, the group was awarded a grant from the U.S. Department of Agriculture to launch the Sweet Valley Citrus brand officially.
“We’re still a long way from being well established,” Corley admitted, “but there’s a lot of interest in it, and we can really grow high quality stuff.”
As production begins to rise in the region, concerns linger regarding its marketability. While fresh fruit garners significantly higher profits compared to oranges destined for juicing, the fresh market remains considerably smaller, as Florida predominantly operates as a juice orange state.
To foster success, Sweet Valley Citrus growers seek cold-hardy, pest-resistant, and reliable fruit varieties, as the market for fresh fruit diminishes when supply overwhelms demand.
Recognizing this potential hurdle, Matt Joyner, CEO of the grower advocacy group Florida Citrus Mutual, acknowledged the excitement surrounding the resurgence of historical citrus acreage in North Florida. He cautioned, however, that saturation of the fresh market could occur rapidly due to rising production.
To adapt, some growers are turning their attention toward the creation of satsuma juice, or as Jones from Florida Georgia Citrus dubs it: “liquid fruit.” Although this product may not soon appear on grocery store shelves, it represents a promising avenue for expanding the Sweet Valley Citrus offerings beyond simply fresh fruit.
Lindy Savelle and her husband Perry embarked on their citrus journey by planting their first grove in 2016, which led to the establishment of Georgia Grown Citrus two years later, a nursery dedicated to providing cold-hardy trees to both homeowners and commercial growers. Today, their nursery stands as a lush sanctuary amidst a sea of row crops in Ochlocknee, just 24 miles from the Florida border.
Over the past decade, South Georgia has also witnessed an upswing in citrus production, reaching nearly 4,000 acres in 2024, paralleling growth similar to that in North Florida.
“It’s just unbelievable,” Savelle remarked enthusiastically. “I mean, every day I’m learning of a new grower somewhere.”
In a significant move to further support and regulate this burgeoning industry, Georgia Governor Brian P. Kemp signed HB 545 in April 2023, creating the Georgia Citrus Commission.
In contrast, Florida’s Citrus Commission, established in 1935, oversees only 36 counties, leaving North Florida growers without regulatory support.
A spokesperson for the Florida Citrus Commission stated that there are no current plans or discussions regarding the expansion of regulated areas. Growers have expressed confidence in their existing operations and approach, monitoring potential threats like the Asian Citrus Psyllid, known to create havoc in citrus groves.
This plant-feeding insect first emerged in Central Florida in 2005, bringing with it the harmful bacterial strain, Liberibacter, that wreaked havoc throughout the state’s citrus industry. Groves in Central Florida bear visible aesthetic damage, with small, hard fruits often resembling dip-dyed Easter eggs, marred with green patches.
Though the Asian Citrus Psyllid has reached Sweet Valley Citrus, its impact in the region remains comparatively mild, especially since Georgia just logged its first case this year.
As Savelle formulates Georgia’s statewide action plan to stave off an outbreak, she is drawing insights from California rather than Florida for effective guidance.
“People tell us all the time that what California is doing is working. Believe it or not, we are more similar to California than we are to Florida. I know that sounds crazy, but that’s the truth,” Savelle emphasized.
Experts concur with her assessment. Lauren Diepenbrock, an insect ecologist at the University of Florida’s Citrus Research and Education Center, specializes in studying the Asian Citrus Psyllid and its related insect behaviors.
Having witnessed the industry’s decline firsthand, she recalls how the landscape of Florida’s citrus industry has changed dramatically. “This part of Florida doesn’t look like anything like it did when I was younger,” she reflected. “You used to drive through Winter Haven and all you could smell was citrus.”
Diepenbrock has developed an intimate understanding of the psyllid’s characteristics, noting their requirements for humidity and their vulnerability to cold conditions, which could impact their survival in Northern climates.
Such climatic factors serve as an advantage for Sweet Valley’s burgeoning industry, suggesting that the cooler winters and lower humidity could potentially mitigate the psyllid’s spread—a beneficial outcome for growers.
“It will be really, really interesting to see how they roll with this,” she concluded, acknowledging that smaller, individually managed groves might serve as a protective buffer against large-scale infestations that often plague denser agricultural environments.
Back in Monticello, Corley from Southern Tree Source shares the hope for a similar outcome, suggesting, “We have pockets of that and hot spots, but it’s not endemic here, so we feel like we’ve got a little bit better control of it.”
Today, citrus trees are no longer shedding their exquisite blossoms along the banks of the St. Johns River, as Harriet Beecher Stowe’s cherished Mandarin groves have been replaced by urban developments.
The citrus industry taking shape in North Florida today is markedly different from the one that faltered in the 19th century.
Characterized by its smaller scale, reliance on sophisticated agricultural technology, and renewed determination, the present industry carries with it essential lessons drawn from the enduring nature of the citrus trees themselves: “full of sap and greenness; full of lessons of perseverance to us who get frosted down and cut off, time and time again, in our lives,” as Beecher Stowe poignantly put it.
How are growers in the region adapting their practices to ensure the future success of citrus farming?
See were orange groves. Now, there are houses everywhere. Citrus agriculture has seen drastic reductions in acreage.”
As the industry shifts and grows in North Florida and Southern Georgia, it faces numerous challenges, including climate unpredictability and pest threats. Nonetheless, innovative growers are looking to the future cautiously but optimistically. While the historical context of the citrus industry serves as a reminder of the vulnerabilities involved, the persistence of growers like Divine, Holley, Jones, and Savelle brings a renewed sense of hope to the market.
With evolving practices and new support structures, the region is working hard to carve out a niche for its citrus products. They aim to communicate the unique qualities of their fruits—especially their cold-hardiness and enhanced sweetness—through effective marketing and community engagement. Educational initiatives are also in place, encouraging both new and seasoned growers to share knowledge and best practices.
Additionally, state-level efforts are starting to coalesce, with government agencies and industry associations coming together to support burgeoning citrus operations. This collaboration seeks to facilitate research, improve pest management strategies, and promote sustainable agricultural practices—crucial elements for strengthening the resilience of this growing sector.
Ultimately, the future of citrus farming in North Florida and Southern Georgia is uncertain yet vibrant. By embracing their agricultural history while adapting to modern challenges, local growers are set to redefine the citrus landscape, aiming for a sustainable and prosperous future.
