In the meantime, my cousin George Nichols, came to San Francisco from the East Coast. He was about ten years my junior and I loved him like a brother. He had applied to the Commodity Credit Corporation in Washington, D.C. for a contract to raise castor beans. The beans produce castor oil which is critical in the lubrication of high speed airplane engines. He originally had a few backers in the East, but for one reason or another, they pulled out. He explained to me the tremendous need for the oil and the tremendous possibilities for making money. He emphasized that it was our patriotic duty to support the war effort. In the beginning, I could't understand the project and didn't go for it. He was a good salesman. I asked him how much money it would take and he mentioned around twenty five thousand dollars. Probably because I was sentimental and partly because I had a great love for him, I finally agreed to support the project.

I consulted another Greek American here in San Francisco. He was in the oil business, more or less, a promoter. I asked him if he would consider taking part in the venture by selling half of the stock to some of his friends and I would buy the other half with some of my friends. He agreed. We then went to the Commodity Credit Corporation, Pan American Industries, Inc. and sold shares. We were able to raise the money necessary to fund the project.

(The "promoter" was James George from San Francisco. He was the majority ownere of the Pacific Oil Company with oil wells located in a area south of Bakersfield. Perhaps as a result of envy, he had developed a reputation of being a wheeler-dealer and unsrupulous. He was a neat, stylish dresser. He drove expensive cars and lived a lavish lifestyle. He subsequently settled down and became a major benefactor for the Greek church of Marin County in Ignacio. At one time he owned over 2,000 acres of cattle land in Sonoma County. In 2004, the land was worth over $20,000,000. As a result of his contributions to the St. Nicholas Ranch in Dunlap, California, the main street of the ranch is named after him.)

We had to buy a large section of land in Mexico where the climate was favorable to the growing of castor beans. Equally important was the labor factor. Castor beans required much labor. Labor was scarce and expensive in the United States, but it was plentiful and cheap in Mexico.

The first step was to procure the land in Mexico. We went to Mexico City where we spent about two weeks trying to get a permit from the Mexican Government to purchase the land. The Mexicans do not move fast. What may take an hour to do here may take two weeks in Mexico. Fortunately, we found a Senator in Mexico who was receptive to our idea. He helped us with the bureaucracy, and as a result we were able to obtain the permits that we needed.

We entered into an agreement with the Mexican Government to work the land for five years. We would then divide it into two halves. We would keep one half for ourselves. The other half we would divide into small plots of land for farms and sell parcels to the local Mexican peasants, cheaply. The agreement also included our right to bring immigrants from Greece to settle on the land. Little did we dream what was going to take place.

With the assistance of a geologist, we located and purchased 13,000 acres of land in Campechi. My cousin, George, remained in Mexico to hire workers to clear the jungle, prepare the soil and then plant the castor bushes. They had to clear the jungle with machetes. This involved cutting down the trees and brush, letting them dry and then burning them. He hired about one thousand Indians to work in the fields. Sometime in the fall of 1942 I returned to Mexico with my wife. We hired a plane from Mexico City to Campechi. From there we traveled by car to the hacienda that we used as our headquarters. Two thirds of our land had been cleared and planted with castor beans. Some fifteen million castor bushes had been planted. We drove for five days and saw nothing but castor plants.

While in Mexico, I wrote a letter to my friend William Helis in New Orleans. I mentioned that I was on the other side of the Gulf of Mexico raising castor beans. We hoped to extract a lot of castor oil and that we should give some to our so called friends to drink. What I had in mind was to give some to those high officials in the AHEPA with whom we did not see eye to eye. John Metaxas, while Dictator of Greece, used to give castor oil to his political opponents. Little did I realize what problems this letter would create for us in Washington, D.C. I forgot that, at that time, letters to and from foreign countries were read and censored by agents for the American Government.

In 1943 I went to Washington to arrange for the shipment of the castor beans. I was approached by one of the officials in the Government and he asked me if I wrote the letter to Helis. I answered yes. He asked me to explain it, which I did. He said that when they first read the letter they didn't know what to make of it. As a result, the Government spent a lot of time and money investigating our project in Mexico.

At that time an agronomist from the Department of Agriculture had gone to Campechi to check up on the project. He reported that we should have at lest $600,000 worth of castor beans when they matured. Our own agronomist claimed that the value would be a minimum of a million dollars. Because of the low labor costs, we would make more money than we ever saw in our fondest dreams.

When I returned home from Washington I received a wire from my cousin in Campechi telling me to come down quickly, "I'm going out of my mind." I went down there and found everything ruined. It had rained, unseasonably, for about three days, followed by fog. The moisture remained on the bushes and everything became mildewed. This was followed by a strong wind. The beans were about seventy percent mature. The wind knocked most of the beans to the ground, ruined. Instead of the $1,000,000 that we expected to make, we made $19,000, gross.

Castor beans produce two crops a year. We were told by the same man from the Department of Agriculture, and by our own agronomist, to raise some additional capital, prune the bushes and wait for the second crop, which should be bigger and better. They entreated us not to abandon this important project and give up this wonderful land. We listened to them and agreed to keep trying.

I came back to San Francisco and borrowed $25,000 secured by a promissory note. I didn't have the heart to ask anyone else to buy stock in Pan American Industries.

The bushes were trimmed and the ground was worked. We waited for the second crop, which was to come in late fall of 1943. Well, once more the crop was ruined. I lost all patience. I never wanted to hear any thing more about Mexico. I never wanted to hear about castor beans. I was through experimenting with anything to do in the field of agriculture and dealing with weather conditions that I could not control.

I wrote to my cousin to dispose of the land for whatever he could get. I didn't have the kind of money it took to fund a project for several years for the purpose of recovering the losses of previous years. I lost approximately $65,000 to $70,000 in the venture. The other investors lost between $30,000 and $40,000, total. And the castor bean project was closed!

(Boudoures wasn't always careful of the image he projected to the other Greek-Americans of his time. When Chris Katon, Peter Papageorge, Dr. Abramopoulos, and others went to church, they would sit in back of the church with the rest of the congregation. When Peter Boudoures went to church, he insisted on being escorted by a council member to the front row where he sat, some say, in arrogance).

(Fr. Lokis left San Francisco in early 1943, disappointed at not having been appointed bishop. It was said that he went to Alexandria, Egypt where he worked at the Patriarchate on behalf of the Office of Special Services to observe the activities of the Egyptian Government. He was replaced by Fr. Pantelakis who served the Annunciation for about three years. He in turn was replaced, in December of 1946, by Fr. Polyefktos Finfinis. Fr. Finfinis was from the Phanari area of Constantinople, born of a prominent merchant family. He was a graduate of the prestigious Theological Seminary in Chalki. Fr. Finfinis was another charismatic speaker. He was also headstrong. He immediately took charge of the community and ran it his way with his own followers. As a result, the Annunciation Community wasn't big enough for both Peter Boudoures and Fr. Polyefktos Finfinis. In a test of power at a general assembly meeting, Boudoures was voted down, and he left amid the jeers of the parishioners. He never again was a force at the Annunciation. But he wasn't humbled, yet.)