Arrowheadin’

I have always allowed history, archaeology, and anthropology to occupy much of my time. As a kid, my mother put a stop to my assembling the skeletal remains of a cow I found in my refuge ’down the tracks’. Indian lore was a big component. A little later in life, I was a new member of the Michigan Archaeological Society where I found my first real artifacts in a bean field near Frankenmuth. Other awakenings came with visiting Mound Builders and Flint Ridge in Ohio. In spite of my ramblings and imagination around the home, I never produced a real arrowhead for my rock collection. Unlike Michigan where rocks are everywhere, in some areas of the country rocks found were generally brought in by man.
On assignment in Danville, Kentucky, I struck up a conversation with a secretary concerning Indian arrowheads. She said they were everywhere in the area. Not to let it stop there I asked her if she would tell me where. Her explanation of landmarks did not suit my county map so we concluded she would need to show me on Saturday. At a streambed on a farmers plot not far from town serendipity -- flint chips and arrowheads were everywhere just as she had said.
Sharing my findings with dad back home, he asked if we had seen geodes near the river bed. My later query from this local lady brought a blank stare when I said geodes. I explained of the hard surface and holler crystalline interior. She gave it some thought, then said, “Oh, you mean nigger heads.” Ah, yeah.
That following Saturday we combed a freshly plowed field where the farmer would be pleased that we took away a dozen geodes. Their quality was poor but gems none the less.
Elated by such discoveries, I told this young lady her reward would be a fabulous dinner. Being a dry county, it was necessary to travel twenty miles to find a good restaurant. She gave me directions of down the road and up the hollow to the third house on the right to pick her up on Saturday night. When I arrived her family was assembled in another room in front of the TV. Her father waved then her mother came to say hello. The restaurant was nice. I was overjoyed to be a part of her nice dining experience. At which point, she explained it was necessary to break up with her longtime boyfriend in order to be with me. Gulp. My intentions were only to reward her but it went a little beyond that. When I walked her to the door, I could see her father and some of her siblings sleeping in the other room by the flicker of the TV. Afterward, I was her window to the world and sent postcards from my travels but lost touch after about ten years.
Last year I received a call from an old Navy buddy concerning a planned reunion for our LST-1175 crew. I asked, “How did you ever find me?” He explained all the avenues on the Internet for finding people. Curiously I plugged in a few names. I was surprised to find my arrowheadin’ buddy listed. Ladies get lost with the name changes caused by marriage but she was still there up the holler. I called to find her having never married and living with her widowed mom in the family homestead. She said the local jobs had dried up so she went back to college and got a degree in English. "Can’t speak it but I sure can teach it," she said, now at the University of Eastern Kentucky. Since then I have been concerned that the break up caused by my arrowheadin’ reward may have caused her to miss her opportunity for marriage.