It took the San Francisco earthquake to destroy a rather creative San Bernardino County industry briefly flourishing in Needles in 1906. Two enterprising men were making good money capturing nondescript lizards called horned toads and shipping them to Chinese physicians in the Bay Area. But the Colo rado River business collapsed from the devastating effect of the quake 500 miles away in San Francisco. (A pause: Sometimes in searching the past I find myself stumbling onto stories and events that just don’t completely add up — like a horned toad enriching two guys in Needles 120 years ago. It’s a curious story, but are the details real or exaggerated or just somebody’s pipedream? Keep those questions in mind.) There’s no doubt in 1906 actual articles in newspapers across the nation related the tale of saloon owner Bill Peters, his sidekick with the odd name of Watcheye Watkins, and their lizard business. In 1899, the articles claimed Peters had met a Chinese man who had been kicked off a Santa Fe train in Needles. The man told Peters that Chinese doctors in the Bay Area would pay good money for horned toads. It sounded like a good deal for Peters since the lizards were more plentiful than people along the river. A story in the Sun newspaper Aug. 6, 1906, said the doctors used parts of horned toads in remedies such as toothache, hives, spinal meningitis, indigestion, or cramps. Some lizards were even eaten, while some of their bodies were dried and used as a charm to fend off bad luck. It was said that for a while the pair did well drying or pickling the lizards before shipping them to San Francisco. The prospect of future wealth appeared so real that they allegedly decided to incorporate their business with a name that really rolls off the tongue — the San Bernardino County Horned Toad Medicine Manufacturing Company. Their success did not go unnoticed. In 1905, an investor from Chicago arrived by train and shortly afterward the pair’s business became part of the Peerless Pure Food Co. of New Jersey. One wonders if this “merger” may possibly have been arranged by some Chicago gangster seeking to horn in on the lizard racket. Anyway, the Needles men briefly started sending their product east as well as to the Bay Area. But East Coast folks apparently didn’t care for our horned toads, and Peters and Watkins suddenly were told the Peerless lizard deal was canceled. “Boys,” said Peters, to men he had hired to catch lizards, “you see here the wrecking of what promised to be a noble industry.” The industry got a lot less noble in April 1906 when San Francisco, and all of its Chinatown, was largely destroyed by the quake and fire. The news articles said unless the Chinese doctors were able to get back into business, “these two prominent promoters may have to take to prospecting or grabstaking again.” What is curious about this tale as I could find no further mention of them doing anything at all. Peters and old Watcheye — if they were real people — just disappeared. What also made me suspicious about all this was there was no writer’s name attached to any of the newspaper articles about the horned toad gambit. One article claimed to have been written by the “correspondent to the Philadelphia North American,” a newspaper which appeared to provide sometimes exaggerated or colorful stories to papers nationwide. What really bothered me was I also couldn’t find any mention of the two lizard hunters in the Needles Eye, the newspaper operating in that city at the time. So, was this actually an odd, cute story of the past or some tall tale penned by some creative writer? It’s hard to know for sure, but like newspapers of 120 years ago, I couldn’t resist retelling it today. Early vacation? In an event that certainly did happen, Ontario school children got some rather shocking, though welcome, news at the close of classes on a Friday in March 1894. “School will be closed,” was the message from teachers, “for the rest of the school year.” Residents in Ontario and nearby areas learned the elementary school board was out of money and would close school about two months early, reported the Ontario Record on March 28, 1894. A fairly large school bond was coming due and the district didn’t have the money to pay it off and keep the schools open. Ontario had grown from 14 students in 1884 to 350 a decade later with its schools too small to accommodate the growing enrollment. Making things more difficult, if the board halted classes in March it would mean the district would receive even less state money in 1895 because of a reduced average enrollment caused by the early closing. The remedy was the same strategy politicians turn to today — they scheduled a special election asking voters for permission to float more bonds to pay off the old ones and get schools open again. Related Articles Woolworth’s building in San Bernardino seems to have survived fire These shrimp tacos from Mariscos Jalisco are putting Pomona on the map These two Riverside County women were military leaders during World War II Innovation led San Bernardino to become Bicentennial City in 1974 Native plants booster and journalist was rooted in Riverside Fortunately, the community came through. On April 14, the measure to buy new lower-interest bonds (and pay off the old ones) and make building improvements was approved, 146 to 14. Additional money to reopen classes for the remainder of the school year also passed, 139 to 19. “It shows that in spite of hard times, Ontario is still ready to deal with her public schools with a liberal band,” cheered the Record on April 18. Joe Blackstock writes on Inland Empire history. He can be reached at [email protected] or on X @JoeBlackstock. Check out some of the past articles at Inland Empire Stories on Facebook at www.facebook.com/IEHistory. ...read more read less