The valley was Tongva and Acjachemen homeland long before it was anyone's vineyard, and later part of a Mexican-era rancho. The town itself begins in 1857, when a group of German families in San Francisco pooled their money as the Los Angeles Vineyard Society and sent a surveyor named George Hansen south to lay out a colony. He divided the land into fifty twenty-acre vineyard lots and fenced the whole square mile with willow poles that took root and grew into a living wall — with gates at the north, south, east, and west ends of the two main streets. That willow-gate grid is still the bones of downtown Anaheim. They named it for the river and for home.
For a generation it worked beautifully. Anaheim's vineyards became the largest in California and its wine shipped across the country — for nearly twenty-five years this was the state's leading wine district. Then, in the 1880s, a mysterious blight now known as Pierce's Disease moved through the vines and killed them by the hundreds of thousands. By the late 1880s the vineyards were beyond saving. It could have been the end of the colony. Instead the growers pulled out the dead vines and planted citrus — and Anaheim reinvented itself as the Valencia Orange capital of the nation, its crate labels carrying the town's name to fruit stands all over the country.
Why People Visit Anaheim California
Most people come to Anaheim for the modern attractions — but the city rewards anyone who looks for the older layer underneath: a planned German wine colony that became an orange-grove capital, with a 19th-century museum house, a heritage park, and a downtown still shaped by a willow fence planted in 1857. It's bright, warm, and welcoming, and its real history sits quietly right alongside the famous stuff.
