The Weight of History: 1906-1956
In 1906, Nand Singh Johl stepped off a ship in Vancouver, Canada, carrying little more than hope and the promise of work. He could not have imagined that his journey would plant roots that would grow into one of Yuba City's most influential Punjabi American families, spanning four generations and shaping institutions on two continents. The Johl family story is not merely one of immigration and assimilation—it is a testament to resilience against racial violence, creativity in circumventing discriminatory laws, and an unwavering commitment to community building that would transform California's agricultural heartland.
Nand Singh's arrival coincided with a wave of Punjabi immigration to the Pacific Northwest, where lumber mills and railroad companies desperately needed workers. He made his way to Bellingham, Washington, finding work in the lumber mills alongside hundreds of other Sikh workers. But this promise of prosperity was short-lived. In September 1907, a mob of 400-500 white workers descended upon the Sikh community, driven by economic anxiety and racial hatred. The Bellingham riots forced the entire South Asian population to flee—some back to Canada, others scattered across the American West.
Nand Singh chose neither retreat nor hiding. Instead, he and four other Johls joined railroad construction crews building south toward California. It was during a rest break in 1908, as they sat in the shade of an orchard near the tracks, that fate intervened. A farmer named Mr. Eager approached the group, asking if they sought work. When they explained they already had railroad jobs, Eager made an offer that would change everything: year-round employment and a place to stay on what would become known as Eager Road. Nand Singh accepted, becoming one of the first Punjabis to settle in what would become the heart of California's Punjabi community, as documented in the UC Davis Punjabi Sikh Diaspora Digital Archive.
The early years demanded ingenuity and compromise. The Alien Land Law of 1913 and the Asiatic Barred Zone Act of 1917 prevented Indians from owning land or becoming citizens. Yet Nand Singh persevered, forming partnerships with American citizens to circumvent these restrictions. By 1924, he had entered rice farming with an American partner, and his brother Chanan Singh, who had joined him around 1909, expanded their operations. As Kulwant recalls from family stories, there were photographs—now lost in India—of his grandfather on horseback, surveying workers in vast rice fields, embodying a success that seemed impossible under the law.
The Great Depression destroyed these gains, bankrupting the Johl brothers along with countless other farmers. But Nand Singh rebuilt, and when the laws finally changed in 1946 following India's independence, he immediately purchased 10 acres—what UC Davis records confirm as the first land bought by Punjabis in Sacramento County (now part of Yuba-Sutter region). It was a modest holding, but it represented something monumental: permanent roots in American soil.
Throughout these decades, Nand Singh carried another burden. He had left behind a wife and two-year-old son in Punjab when he departed for Canada. That son, Jagir Singh, would grow up without his father, and Nand Singh would die in 1956 without ever returning to India or seeing his son again. The sacrifice was total and irreversible. Yet even in absence, he shaped his family's destiny. He was deeply involved with the Ghadar Party, attending meetings and fundraisers in Stockton, supporting the movement for India's independence from British rule. The revolution he supported from afar would eventually free his homeland and, through changed immigration laws, reunite his divided family—though he would not live to see it.
The Freedom Fighter's Education: Jagir Singh Johl
Jagir Singh Johl grew up in the shadow of his father's absence, raised by a mother whose husband existed only in letters and occasional remittances from America. In their village in Punjab's Jalandhar district, educational opportunities ended at fifth or sixth grade—there was no high school, and Jagir's mother, already coping with her husband's absence, refused to send her only son away for further education. This truncated schooling would become the defining wound and driving force of Jagir's life.
He channeled his frustration into action, joining India's freedom struggle and spending eight and a half years in British jails for his activism. The experience forged him into a leader, someone who understood that true revolution meant not just political independence but social transformation. After independence, when political parties courted him to run for office, he declined with characteristic wisdom, choosing to focus on grassroots change rather than political position.
His mission became education. In 1919, working with other Punjabis living abroad—in Canada, England, and the United States—he helped establish a high school in their village, serving as its president until the government took control in 1964. But this wasn't enough. His vision demanded that village children have access to college education without leaving home. In 1967, he founded Guru Gobind Singh College in Jandiala Manjki, bringing higher education to rural Punjab, as per family accounts preserved by the Punjabi American Heritage Society.
The college's survival came down to a single vote in 1986. Facing bankruptcy, half the board wanted to shut it down rather than accept government control. The other half recognized that government takeover was the only path to survival. Jagir held the deciding vote. He consulted the principal, who told him that without the college, 60% of local students would receive no higher education at all. Despite knowing it would cost him lifelong friendships, Jagir voted to hand the college to the government. His friends stopped speaking to him. Years later, as the college thrived under government support, they would admit he was right. But Jagir hadn't waited for vindication—he had chosen the education of future generations over the approval of his peers. He passed away in 1990.
Building Bridges: Harbhajan Singh Johl and the Radio Revolution
In 1955, a year before Nand Singh's death, he brought his nephew Harbhajan Singh Johl to America—the closest he could come to bringing his own son. Harbhajan Singh inherited not just his uncle's land but his mission of community building. He would become a bridge between the old pioneers and a new wave of immigration, using the most modern medium of his time: radio.
In 1968, Harbhajan Singh, along with his nephew Nirmal Shergill, launched the first Punjabi radio program in the United States—four hours every Sunday on a local Yuba City station. In an era before internet or cable television, when letters from India took weeks to arrive, the radio program became the community's lifeline. Kulwant remembers: "It was so popular that if they were five minutes late starting, people would call the station like they were going to burst." The program provided news, music, and most importantly, a sense of connection for isolated immigrants scattered across Northern California's farms. It continued until 2001, when 24-hour Punjabi satellite channels finally made it obsolete.
But Harbhajan Singh's greatest test came when he used the radio to support a controversial project: building Yuba City's first gurdwara, the Tierra Buena Sikh Temple, founded in 1970. The Punjabi community was divided along regional lines—those from Jalandhar district had formed the Indian Association of Yuba-Sutter, while those from Hoshiarpur district had created the Indo-American Association. When the Hoshiarpur group proposed building a local gurdwara (previously, everyone traveled to Stockton for religious services), Harbhajan Singh, despite being from Jalandhar, threw his radio program's influence behind the project as one of its 26 founders.
The backlash was swift and vicious. Opposition leaders threatened to destroy the radio program by pressuring advertisers—all American businesses, since no Punjabi businesses existed yet—to pull their support. When Harbhajan Singh refused to stop his on-air fundraising, they succeeded in canceling all but one advertiser. Harbhajan Singh paid for airtime from his own pocket. They petitioned the radio station. They gathered signatures. When bureaucratic pressure failed, some turned to violence. Still, Harbhajan Singh persisted.
The conflict went to court, with opponents trying to legally block the gurdwara's opening. They failed. The temple was built with land donated by a Jalandhar family and governed by a board with exactly 13 members from each district—a compromise that acknowledged division while insisting on unity. Today, that gurdwara stands as the heart of Yuba City's Punjabi community, and few remember the bitter fight over its founding. Harbhajan Singh passed away in 2017.
The Professional Pioneer: Kulwant Singh Johl's American Journey
Kulwant Singh Johl arrived in America in 1970 at age 19, his marriage recently arranged to a woman whose sister had already immigrated—a strategic union that would allow both to come to America. He had been pursuing pre-medical studies in India at Lyallpur Khalsa College in Jalandhar, but his uncle Harbhajan Singh had different plans: "Let's just do agriculture."
The transition wasn't easy. Kulwant worked his uncle's expanded holdings while attending Yuba College, then Chico State, graduating with an agriculture degree in 1975. That same year, he joined Pure Grow Company as an agricultural advisor, a position he held until 1992. He then moved to John Taylor Fertilizer Company, where he served as a licensed Pest Control Advisor (PCA) until his retirement in March 2025—nearly 50 years total in agricultural advising for Punjabi farmers navigating American practices.
The timing was perfect. The 1970s saw an explosion of Punjabi land ownership in the Central Valley. As Kulwant recalls, "People were just getting into farming... like a storm." His dual fluency—not just in language but in culture, understanding both American agricultural science and Punjabi farming traditions—made him invaluable. His clients weren't just business relationships; they were his community. "Sometimes they came to the office just to talk," he remembers. He advised on pest control, nutrients, fertilizer, helping transform Yuba-Sutter into one of California's most productive agricultural regions, growing crops like peaches, prunes, almonds, and walnuts on his family's Johl Orchard in Marysville.
While building his professional career, Kulwant also built his family's agricultural empire. In 1977, he bought his first home, separating from his uncle's household while maintaining family unity. In 1978-79, he brought his three brothers—Surinder Singh, Ranbir Singh, and Harwant Singh—and three sisters—Darshan Kaur Atwal, Parkash Kaur Bains, and Mohinder Kaur Bains—to America, his citizenship (obtained in the bicentennial year of 1976, commemorated with a special flag-decorated certificate) allowing him to sponsor his siblings. In 1981, his parents, Jagir Singh and Ranjit Kaur Johl, arrived, though his father, like many of his generation, never fully settled, traveling back and forth to India until his death in 1990. His mother continued this pattern until her health declined, passing away in 2016.
The defining business moment came in 1986 when Kulwant and his brothers jointly purchased 100 acres of prune orchards. It was a far cry from his grandfather's hard-won 10 acres in 1946, but it represented the same thing: permanence, prosperity, and proof that the American Dream could accommodate Punjabi ambition. Today, Johl Orchard spans diverse crops and reflects the family's enduring agricultural legacy.
Servant Leadership: The Civic Legacy
Kulwant's success in business became a platform for community service. From 1990 to 1995, he served as secretary of the gurdwara his uncle Harbhajan Singh had fought to establish, learning the delicate balance of serving a diverse community. The selection process in those days was informal—leaders would "sit down and select people"—but the responsibility was immense. He was chosen because he had learned from Harbhajan Singh, and the community trusted that knowledge.
His service expanded far beyond the Punjabi community. In 2001, the Governor of California appointed him to the Yuba-Sutter Fair Board, a position he still holds—the fair being state-owned rather than county-run, making board positions political appointments that survive only with proven effectiveness. He served as president of the Farm Bureau from 2006-2009, representing all farmers regardless of background, and has been a dedicated member of the Yuba-Sutter Farm Bureau for 37 years. Since 2007, he has served on the California Peach Association board, one of 25 members elected statewide. Since 1998, he has served on the USDA County Committee, providing oversight and advocacy for farmers dealing with federal programs. In 2023, he was honored by the California Farm Bureau for distinguished service in agriculture.
When asked about political ambitions, Kulwant demurs, preferring service through these appointed and elected positions where he can make direct impact on agricultural and community issues. His approach reflects a philosophy of servant leadership—using expertise and influence to benefit the broader community rather than seeking political office.
His involvement with the Punjabi American Heritage Society, which he currently leads as president since joining in 1994, represents a return to cultural roots. Under his leadership, the Society maintains archives, organizes cultural events, and ensures that stories like his family's are not forgotten, drawing on resources like the UC Davis Punjabi Diaspora Archive.
The Fourth Generation: American Integration
Kulwant's three children—Paul Singh Johl (1974), Parminder Kaur Johl (1979), and Rajvir Singh Johl (1993)—represent the full integration of the Johl family into American society while maintaining cultural connections. His daughter initiated the family's annual reunion tradition, bringing together over 100 relatives. In 2023, they rented a 22-bedroom house in Lake Tahoe, filling it with 80 family members and still needing nearby hotels for overflow.
The grandchildren—Madison Kaur Johl and Mason Singh Johl (Paul's children), Nishawn Singh Birak and Ruman Kaur Birak (Parminder's children)—carry names that blend American and Punjabi traditions, embodying the bicultural identity their great-great-grandfather's journey made possible. They inherit not just wealth and status but a legacy of service and sacrifice spanning continents and centuries.
Patterns of Progress
The Johl family story reveals patterns that define the Punjabi American experience. Each generation faced different barriers but shared common strategies: circumventing discriminatory laws through creative partnerships, building community institutions despite internal divisions, maintaining cultural identity while achieving economic success, and using prosperity as a platform for service.
The evolution is striking. Nand Singh survived through partnerships with Americans who could legally own land. Harbhajan Singh built bridges through media, connecting isolated immigrants into a community. Kulwant professionalized that community's agricultural practices while serving on boards that influenced mainstream American institutions. His children move freely between worlds their great-grandfather could never have entered.
Yet certain values remain constant: the emphasis on land ownership as true security, the importance of education (even when denied it themselves), the obligation to serve community even at personal cost, and the maintenance of family bonds across vast distances and decades of separation. When Jagir Singh chose to save a college at the cost of friendships, when Harbhajan Singh funded a radio program from his own pocket, when Kulwant spent nearly fifty years advising farmers, they were all following Nand Singh's example of sacrificing for future generations.
Conclusion: The Continuing Revolution
The Johl family's American journey began with one man fleeing racial violence in 1907 and continues today with Kulwant serving on state boards and his grandchildren bearing names that honor both cultures. It is a story of transformation—from excluded laborer to landed gentry, from foreign other to community leader, from survival to service.
But it is also a story of continuity. The Ghadar Party meetings Nand Singh attended in Stockton sought to overthrow colonial oppression in India. His son Jagir fought that same fight in Indian jails. Harbhajan Singh's radio program and Kulwant's board service continue that revolution by other means—ensuring that Punjabi Americans have voice, representation, and power in their adopted homeland.
As Kulwant retires from nearly fifty years of advising farmers, as the fourth generation comes of age, as the family gathers for reunions in houses that could hold a small village, the journey that began with Nand Singh's solitary arrival in Vancouver reaches a kind of completion. Yet it also continues, each generation building on the last, each success creating new obligations, each achievement opening new possibilities.
The land Nand Singh could not legally own in 1908 now feeds America through operations like Johl Orchards. The education Jagir Singh was denied now flows to thousands through the college he founded. The community Harbhajan Singh connected through radio now influences California agriculture and politics at the highest levels. The Johl family story is not just about one family's rise but about how America itself has been transformed by those who arrived at its borders carrying nothing but determination to build something lasting. In Yuba City's gurdwara, in the agricultural bounty of the Central Valley, in the boardrooms where policy is made, the revolution continues—quiet, persistent, and irreversible.