Norman W. Walker was the British-born juice advocate whose books and hardware shaped nearly a century of juicing culture. Starting in the 1930s, Walker argued that fresh raw vegetable and fruit juices were a concentrated source of nourishment; he wrote a string of enduring titles, including Raw Vegetable Juices (1936; later revised as Fresh Vegetable and Fruit Juices), Diet & Salad (1940), and Become Younger (1949). He also inspired and lent his name to the Norwalk two-stage machine (a grinder plus a hydraulic press), a design that became the gold standard for “cold-press” juice in clinics and serious home kitchens alike.
Walker’s carrot-juice advocacy was culturally pivotal. Popular retellings trace his “aha” moment to seeing moist carrot peels in France, then running carrots through a feed grinder to make his first juice—an origin story that, apocryphal or not, helped cement carrots as juicing’s everyday workhorse.
In parallel, physician Max Gerson built a controversial nutrition-therapy program that placed fresh juices at its core—famously prescribing up to 13 daily organic juices alongside other dietary measures. Whether one embraces or disputes the medical claims, Gerson’s regimen popularized the idea of juicing as structured therapy and influenced later juice-centric protocols.
By mid-century, the “natural hygiene” movement and writers like Herbert M. Shelton pressed for raw foods, fasting, and fresh plant juices as a path to wellness, further pushing juicing into the alternative-health mainstream.
A huge part of juicing’s popularity came from West Coast wellness culture—especially Southern California. Paul Bragg’s health crusades and lectures (the same talks that inspired a young Jack LaLanne) primed audiences to see fresh produce and juices as longevity tools. LaLanne later amplified that message on national TV and, decades on, through massively successful juicer infomercials (Juice Tiger; Jack LaLanne Power Juicer).
The 1980s–90s brought a wave of juice bars and smoothie chains—Odwalla (founded 1980 in Santa Cruz) and Jamba Juice (born as Juice Club in 1990 in San Luis Obispo)—which normalized fresh juice and “boosters” (bee pollen, ginseng, wheatgrass) as everyday retail experiences.
No single figure did more to make home juicing mainstream than Jay Kordich, the charismatic “Juiceman.” His book The Juiceman’s Power of Juicing (1992) was a bestseller, and his late-night infomercials made carrots, apples, and celery feel like a national movement. Kordich often cited Gerson’s influence and a personal health turnaround; whatever the medical merits, his showmanship helped sell millions of machines and put countertop juicing into America’s kitchens.
If carrot juice was the gateway, wheatgrass was the cult favorite. The modern wheatgrass revival is most associated with Ann Wigmore, who founded the Hippocrates Health Institute in Boston and promoted freshly grown wheatgrass and its juice for detox and vitality. In 1966 she commissioned a specialized wheatgrass machine—the Wheateena—from a New York maker (Sundance Industries), catalyzing a micro-industry of slow, heavy, dedicated wheatgrass juicers for juice bars and clinics. By the 1990s, a “shot of wheatgrass” was a familiar sight across California juice counters.