by Tim Steury
Richard Daugherty-"Doc"-can't remember where exactly the site
was in relation to the present reservoir created by Lower
Monumental Dam on the Snake River. He'd been holding out a little
hope that maybe there would be some sign of the work he had
supervised during that summer 50 years ago.
"It's sure good to see it again," he says, but admits that he
doesn't recognize much. The native village that he and his students
had excavated now lies under 30 or 40 feet of water. Many of those
former Washington State College students now stand around with him
in the early summer heat and reminisce, picking out geologic
features, remembering the sweat and sunburn and-judging by the many
stories floating around-the great fun they had while they were
making their contribution to archaeological knowledge.
"Where's the railroad?" asks one former worker.
Underwater, says Bill Harder, whose land we are on and who is
the source of the Harder Site's name. Harder had met the group in
Kahlotus, the nearest town, and led the way down to the river.
This visit to the site is the conclusion to a reunion of the
former students and archaeologist who labored under the eastern
Washington sun all those years ago. One field camp member has since
died, and another couldn't be tracked down, says Marilyn Dillsi,
who seems to have been the chief instigator of this reunion. But
most of the rest had heeded her suggestion they regroup and recall
their summer together.
Daugherty and his student crew excavated two large house pits,
each nearly 40 feet in diameter. Like others in the area, the 1957
dig was an attempt to assess the history of native people of the
area before the series of dams on the lower Snake buried the
ancient villages under water. In spite of efforts by Daugherty and
geoarchaeologist Roald Fryxell, only a portion could be surveyed,
and much evidence is now submerged. Just within the reservoir
created by Lower Monumental Dam, there were maybe 30 other
occupation sites, says Daugherty.
Once Congress approved the building of four dams on the lower
Snake, archaeologists surveyed the area for sites that would be
destroyed by the reservoirs. Eleven habitation sites were
recommended for excavation. Yet undiscovered was the Marmes rock
shelter upstream, which would be frantically excavated by Daugherty
and Fryxell in a race against the flooding by the completed Lower
Monumental Dame in 1968. The Marmes shelter revealed that humans
had occupied the area for at least 11,000 years, far longer than
what had previously been thought. Tragically, an attempt to protect
the site against the rising reservoir with a dike failed, and
whatever additional knowledge we might have gained about the
region's earliest inhabitants now lies beneath 40 feet of
water.
"Down at the mouth of the Palouse was a big village," Daugherty
says, "but this was more recent and smaller."
The results of the 1957 dig became the subject of a thesis by
Monte Kenaston ('66 M.A.) several years later. Carbon dating of the
lowest occupied layer dates the first occupation between A.D. 187
and A.D. 687. A great number of artifacts had been retrieved from
the site, including stone projectile points, knives, and scrapers,
and bone awls. Kenaston concluded that residents of the site
probably depended heavily on elk and bison, which later disappeared
from the area, but also ate fish and fresh-water mussels.
The field camp was notable not only for its heat and dust, but
also for being the first sponsored by WSC to include women. It
included seven males and eight females. Dillsi credits Daugherty
for the breakthrough and praises him for encouraging female
graduate students.
A mixed-gender camp undoubtedly added to the sociability of the
summer. Monita Engvall Horn wrote home regularly and shared her
epistolary account with the others. Although the work itself got
some mention, most of her letters deal with the heat and the pranks
and interaction of the group: "After the digging began in earnest
we had fun," she writes. "Whenever the wind blew, and there was
almost always a breeze, the dust came with it. After leaving the
pits we were coated with dust and looked more like coal miners . .
. than archaeologists. The river was the first place
everybody headed. It was swift and later became shallow and warm,
but at the time it was cold. Most of us would rather freeze than
remain mudpies. There were very few flowers in the area. When we
arrived the hills were overgrazed and parched and when we left they
were more parched. There was very little time to collect flowers
and with the heat and rattlesnakes, less ambition."
But now, 50 years later, in spite of the memories, it's hot here
on the flank of the canyon. Hot and dusty. The decision is
unanimous to head back to Kahlotus for shade and lunch.
To see more photos of the 1957 field
camp and the 50-year reunion, follow the link at the top of this
page.
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