ODESSA, Fla. — The seeded Florida grapefruit, long a staple of the American breakfast, has all but died at the age of 187 after an extended illness. The cause was inconvenience.

As its devoted fans can attest, the classic white, seed-studded Duncan grapefruit, named for the grower who introduced it commercially in 1892, has become virtually impossible to find, completing one of the greatest disappearing acts in all of American agriculture. Survivors include the Marsh, ruby red, star and other comparatively flavorless descendants piled high in supermarkets everywhere.

But the Duncan’s death could prove short-lived. As I learned in my own quest for the fruit, there are signs of resurrection as it makes an arduous transition from near extinction to reincarnation, as an heirloom. One of the last Florida groves to sell Duncans until its old trees died a few years ago, CeeBee’s Citrus here in Odessa, 25 miles north of Tampa, recently planted 53 new ones, the largest such initiative in decades.

Though still less than three feet tall, those fledglings are good news for people like Raymond Hunter, 81, a retired theoretical nuclear physicist from Royston, Ga. Every February for 15 years, he had come to CeeBee’s and stuffed 12 bushels of Duncans — the maximum allowable under Florida fruit inspection laws — into his Lincoln Town Car.