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Coffee Rust strikes Brazil
4 January 1868
Coffee yields have plummeted as the Coffee Rust strikes Carribean and Brazilian coffee plantations. In 1861, the Rust was spotted in Ethiopia. It arrived in Ceylon in 1867, and ravaged Asia, the Middle East, and Africa, and then it crossed the Pond to Brazil. Economists fear a depression, and many wonder where our morning cup of joe will come from.
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1869

Ulysses Simpson Grant was in deepshit. He swiveled his cigar in his mouth, anxious. Just last year, the economic 'recession' as they call it, blew over Johnson's head like a clay brick. He blundered with the fallout, and pulled money from sprouting industry to support America until it was Grant's Job to support the country.​

The Klu Klux Klan lynched blacks and marauded through the South like it was nobody's Business. The Panic of 1867-68 only shook up the hornets nest. People were heading West in droves for opprotunities in California, with industry in the North a bit off.​

What would help The South help the North to get out of the crisis...​

Grant examined Great Britain's response to the faultering economy. While Her Majesty's Empire was not too far off from America's situation, but she had colonies, like India and Ireland which helped support the Kingdom.​

Grant was inspired, and as well as Soldiers, Grant was sending Tea down the the South. He thought it should cover the loss of Coffee, for the meanwhile.
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Thomas Woodrow Wilson looks at The new farms arising around him. The War left a broken South, and many farms were only recovering from the War and from the Great Panic of 1867-68, when Coffee went close to extinction.
He turns to his father, Joseph Wilson, and asks, "What is that?" pointing a stubby finger at the plots of short shrubs.
"Mah Son, those are Tea plants. They say by 1900, they'll cover America in Tea." He says, almost accusing the Northerners of giving the South Tea. The Preist held up his nose, to show Thomas how distasteful the plants were,
"It is certainly a-growin' in Georgia." Thomas says, contrasting his father's belittlement of the herb. An awkward silence followed. Woodrow's gaze returned to the green fields of Tea. He wondered what was to become of the United States, with all this tea growing. What about Coffee, Thomas thought, Shouldn't we be growing Coffee?
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People zipped by on Bicycles, only invented a few years ago, in Paris, France. Henry Ford admired those fancy machines. He wished he could get his hands on some metal to build one himself. But he was stuck working the fields, something he did not enjoy in the least.
His father was planning on preparing Tea this year, as some people had been doing for a while now in the South. 'Indians did this bull,' Henry would protest. A Slap to the head was the usual response to this outburst.
Henry would just do his work, angered at the work he was subjected to.

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Sergei Brin feared for his life. Jews were persecuted everywhere, it seemed. Austria, he knew, his friends had emigrated to. Russia, even under Alexander the Liberator, saw horrendous, small-scale pogroms as the Great Panic of 1868 occurred. Even in 1869, Russians were taking out frustration upon the Jews.
Economics lost meaning for Jews in Russia, fearing for their families, but Sergei Brin had brought his trade with him over the multiple borders to the Austria-Germany Border:Raccoon Dogs.
All Sergei knew was hunting and skinning Raccoon dogs. His father had bought a few and let them live on his property, specifically for hunting their furs.
Sergei took these puppies when he fled his rural home. Hopefully, Sergei thought, They would allow him through.
The Frontier Guard Yelled "Halt!" in his brutish Native German. He examined Sergei closely. "Namen."He ordered.
"Sergei Mikhaylovich Brin." Sergei snapped quickly in response. The Frontiers Guard bitterly asked for a passport, which Sergei produced moments later. Sergei began to sweat, as the Raccon pups were worming around within his satchel. Another Man prods the satchel, which promptly yelps. He calls over to the Man behind the desk.
"Herr Hitler, he has two dogs with him. Should we kill them?" He asks.
The Man behind the Desk strokes his bushy Mustache, deep in thought.
"Nein. Herr Brin may pass through with his dogs, as long as he keeps his mutts in a cage." Customs Officer Hitler says.
Sergei eagerly bows, "Danke, Herr Hitler!" and Sergei is off into Austria to restart a life he lost in Russia.
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Tea in Michigan?
Customs officer Hitler?
I put a bit of handwavium in the scene where Sergei Brin is smuggling Raccoon dogs across several Borders, yeah...
Critique, hypercritical Public!

EDIT: Why redo this?

I forgot some key events in Reconstruction that would be influenced by Tea, Guinea Pigs, and Raccoon Dogs.

Also, I feel it deserves a few more comments without the occaisional Necro-bump...

I don't care if you flame my ideas, I need response.
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