When I was in 8th grade I found a dart point on the edge of the newly built ball field. I was running laps during track practice and that dark shiny object caused me to stop and investigate. This was an epiphany in my life; a split second chance happening that changed everything that would follow. Its effects didn’t happen right away, but later is when I was much older. The shadow of that event was like a hard shelled seed fallen to the ground waiting to germinate and blossom when the right conditions made it favorable.

I held that point in my sweaty hand for the next few days, even at night when I went to bed. I wanted so much to know about the person who made that object that I dreamed about him. When my son Peter was learning how to read I took him to the local library to peruse the books in the children’s section. Meanwhile I took the opportunity to read everything I could in the section of the shelves dedicated to archaeology and anthropology. It was that point that drew me into reading all those books. I now know that it was a mid archaic point made by a man who lived along the Susquehanna River perhaps a dozen or more centuries ago. Part of the spirit of that man who shot that atlatl dart so many centuries ago was reborn in me and made me into who I am today.