SAN PASQUAL -- With tears in his eyes, Marc Lindshield pulled an eviction notice from his file folder of documents. It was the first time his parents, who farm three parcels of land with Lindshield, had seen the notice.

"I am beyond desperate," said Lindshield, 41, last week. "Urgent was last year. Urgency turned into desperation and desperation has turned into panic."

Lindshield and his parents, Dennis and Arlita Lindshield, lease 70 acres of land in San Pasqual from the city of San Diego. The Lindshields operate two orchards of orange groves and Wholesale Heritage Demonstration Farm located at 24335 San Pasqual Road, at the corner of San Pasqual Road and Highway 78.

The family is in debt -- to the tune of $160,000, by Marc Lindshield's estimate. The debt spans a range of overdue bills that have accumulated over the last four years for rent, utilities, loans and insurance.

He hopes to convince the city to delay eviction procedures until he can come up with some money. In April, Lindshield turned to the Internet, launching his www.helpsavethefarm.com site, appealing for help from kind-hearted Web surfers.

While his method for trying to get out of debt may be unorthodox, Lindshield's plight is common to many farmers in the area and the many more who gave up and sold their land, agriculture experts say.

Rising costs

The family has farmed the land since 1971, but filed for bankruptcy in the early 1980s and turned over ownership to the city.

Lindshield said 1996 was the last year they made a profit selling citrus. In 1997, they closed their two family Christmas tree farms when not enough families seemed interested in the cut-your-own style of tree shopping.

"People used to come with their children and then, years later, their children would come back with their children," Arlita Lindshield said. "Everyone is in too much of a hurry to cut down their own tree nowadays."

In 2001, the family signed a 25-year lease with the city and then needed to come up with 18 months in back rent that mounted during the protracted lease negotiations.

The summer of 2001 brought the energy crisis and $50,000 in electric bills the family didn't have the money to pay.

"We don't have city water out here, we rely on wells," Marc Lindshield said. "It takes electricity to pump the water from the wells. We were too big for residential price breaks and too small for industrial breaks."

Dennis Lindshield said they were charged $0.32 per kilowatt hour while homes were charged $0.06 per kilowatt hour.

After Sept. 11, the national insurance infrastructure took a major hit and commercial ratepayers have seen their costs skyrocket or been dropped by their insurance carriers. That's what happened to the Lindshields, who say they lost their insurance after 15 years of no claims because they "were too big of a risk."

"By the time we found someone to insure us, our rates had tripled," Marc Lindshield said.

Matt Combe, vice president of Driver Alliance, the insurance broker that handles the Lindshields' account, said rates have shot up particularly for farmers.

"Because of the high risks of farming, many insurance companies have doubled and tripled premiums," Combe said.

Stiff competition

Lindshield said the inability to regulate his own prices is why he does not feel shy about asking for the public's help. The way he sees it, the consumer has caused his family and farmers all over the U.S. to struggle with their bills.

"America has become dependent on foreign food," he said. "The American population is causing this problem by buying the cheapest food while they live in their $700,000 houses and drive their $75,000 SUVs. They are pulling the trigger of the gun at the head of the American farmer."

Eric Larson, executive director of the Farm Bureau of San Diego County, said the Lindshields' troubles are not uncommon in the county, due to high water and energy costs, insurance hikes, and imports that drive down prices.

"Oranges are very difficult to grow in San Diego County," Larson said. "Right now, the prices for oranges are very low due to competition from other countries such as Australia and even other places in the state like the San Joaquin Valley."

Larson said that in San Diego County, farmers who grow cut flowers, avocados and citrus have faced particularly strong competition and plummeting prices.

In the decade between 1992 and 2002, the number of farmers growing oranges has dropped, but not nearly so much as their income, according to the county Department of Weights and Measures.

According to the department, in 1992 the county was home to 8,707 acres of orange groves with a total gross income of $60 million. By 2002, orange groves accounted for 7,715 acres with gross incomes of $16 million. In other words, during that decade, land devoted to orange groves dropped by 11 percent but gross income dropped by 72 percent.

Red ink citrus

At the Lindshield farm, this year's orange crop paid little. Within the last few weeks, the farm picked 15 bins of oranges weighing 1,500 pounds each. A member of the Sunkist cooperative, Marc Lindshield said he was sent a check for $56 for all the fruit.

Mike Wootton, vice president for corporate relations at Sunkist, said produce prices are determined by the size, grade and quality of the product. Wootton said prices vary daily based on the market. And the market for Valencia oranges, the kind the Lindshields grow, can be especially volatile.

Farmers enter into agreements with Sunkist to market their product, Wootton said. Sunkist then contracts with affiliated packing houses to pick and package the product.

"Sunkist charges an assessment per carton -- usually about 40 cents -- and also charges fees for promotions and advertising costs," Wootton said. "Those costs are deducted from the price paid by the wholesaler or retailer for the fruit. The remaining amount goes back to the packing house that keeps records on how the volume of fruit turned out -- what portion was first grade, second grade, juice grade and so forth. They also deduct their fees for picking, hauling, packing, sorting and shipping."

If a crop is poor quality or the farmer's operating costs are high, it's possible to make little profit or even to have a "red ink crop" that puts the grower in debt to Sunkist or the packing house, Wootton said.

The global market, he added, is cutting into produce prices and production all over the United States, not just with Sunkist and citrus products.

Keeping the dream

So far, the Lindshield family has collected $373 in donations from the Web site and publicity at the San Diego County Fair. Marc Lindshield said he's thankful for what he has received.

"It helped pay a bill we would have otherwise been unable to pay," Lindshield said.

Right now, the family subsists on money from its fruit stand located on San Pasqual Road, school tours to the education farm and Lindshield's income as a stage hypnotist and holistic health practitioner.

"If we gave up the land, then what's next?" he asked. "My parents are veteran farmers, they are too old to start another career. But we stay here not only because we have to but because farming is a call and purpose in life."

Lindshield expresses confidence in the solvency of the farm if only the debts can be paid. He talks hopefully about turning the demonstration farm into a nonprofit organization and selling fruit on the Internet.

But until then, Lindshield does not sleep at night. He talks about the high suicide rate among farmers in his situation. He worries he won't have enough money to fill his mom's prescription.

"We are just fighting to keep alive a part of what America is all about," Arlita Lindshield said.