Projectile points are attached to spears, arrows, and darts and have been used for hunting and warfare. They vary in size, shape, as well as workmanship and are made of a variety of materials, including stone, bone, antler, and metal. Most projectile points were attached to shafts. Spear shafts were thrown by hand or with a spear-thrower (atlatl). Projectile points are time-diagnostic artifacts. Their style or type is useful in estimating the age of a particular site and assigning a regional cultural tradition.

In December 2020 the State Historical Society’s Archaeology and Historic Preservation Department received a collection consisting of 47 projectile stone points and fragments and one flake tool from a donor. This collection is from the Max site (32ML1350) located in McLean County, North Dakota. Archaeologists assigned the Max site projectile points to the Cody cultural complex. (In archaeology, a complex is a grouping of related and/or associated traits, features, and artifacts, which comprise a complete process, activity, or cultural unit with known spatial and temporal dimensions.)

The Cody complex derives its name from Cody, Wyoming, where Eden and Scottsbluff projectile points were recovered in a good geological context. The co-occurrence of Eden and Scottsbluff points and Cody knives are the main markers of the complex. The points were made and used by early Holocene hunter-gatherers to hunt bison and other animals. In addition to the Eden and Scottsbluff points and Cody knives, the typical Cody site may consist of Alberta projectile points and other tools with dates generally ranging between 8,700 and 11,600 calibrated years before the present (Knell and Muñiz 2013, 13). This makes the Cody complex one of the longest Paleoindian cultural complexes in the prehistory of North America. The Cody material culture also covered a wide geographic region extending from Texas to the Canadian plains and from the Great Basin to the St. Lawrence River (Knell and Muñiz 2013, 3).

Examples of complete and refitted projectile points from the Max site include (from left) Scottsbluff, Alberta, and Eden points. While Knife River Flint is the raw material for the Scottsbluff and Eden points, the Alberta point is made from brown translucent chert. SHSND AHP 2020A.3.41, 2020A.3.42, and 2020.3.47. Photo by David Nix and Meagan Schoenfelder

The Alberta points are generally regarded as the earliest projectile point type in the Cody complex chronology and are commonly found in the prairies of Alberta and Saskatchewan and into the northern Plains of the United States. While the Eden points are named after the Eden Valley in southwestern Wyoming, the Scottsbluff points get their name from the Scottsbluff Bison Quarry in Nebraska (Frison and Todd 1987). In terms of style, Eden points are slender, have a marked medial ridge creating a diamond-shaped cross section, and often have a short, narrow stem. On the other hand, Scottsbluff points are thinner in cross section, have wider faces, and are more triangular than Eden points. Alberta points are broadly similar to the Scottsbluff point types, yet the Alberta types are often larger in total size and have a longer stem (Fogle-Hatch 2015).

Red porcellanite Eden projectile point from the Max site. The marked medial ridge is a typical feature of Eden points. SHSND AHP 2020A.3.46. Photo by David Nix and Meagan Schoenfelder

More than 95% of the Max projectile points (45 out of 47) are grouped in the Cody complex: 30 are Eden points, 12 are Scottsbluff, and three are Alberta. The presence of Alberta, Eden, and Scottsbluff points at the Max site make it one of the typical Cody sites in the northern Plains region. Yet, save for the two pictured above, all the Scottsbluff and Alberta points from the Max site are fragments.

In terms of raw material type, the majority of the Max site projectile points (25 points or 56%) are Knife River Flint (KRF), 14 (31%) are porcellanite, and three (7%) are silicified wood. The presence of projectile points and their breaks indicate the points were found at the kill site or butchery location. Although we do not have a direct archaeological date for the Max site points, they might be contemporaneous with the Benz site (32DU452) artifacts, another Cody complex site located in the KRF quarry area in western North Dakota. The Cody complex artifacts from the Benz site, in Dunn County to the southwest of the Max site, date from 9,500 to 11,000 calibrated years before the present (Knell and Muñiz 2013, 8; Root, Knell, and Taylor 2013, 127-128).

Eden projectile points from the Max site. While the points to the left and right are made from Knife River Flint, the one in the center is porcellanite. SHSND AHP 2020A.3.47, 2020A.3.44, and 2020A.3.45. Photo by David Nix and Meagan Schoenfelder

Examples of Eden projectile point fragments from the Max site. A is the base, stem, and midsection of a red porcellanite point; B is a midsection of a Knife River Flint point; and C is a tip or top portion of a Knife River Flint point. SHSND AHP 2020A.3.2, 2020A.3.12, 2020A.3.6. Photos by David Nix and Meagan Schoenfelder

References

Fogle-Hatch, Cheryl. 2015. “Explanations for Morphological Variability in Projectile Points: A Case Study From the Late Paleoindian Cody Complex." PhD. Diss., University of New Mexico.

Frison, George C., and Lawrence C. Todd, eds. 1987. The Horner Site: The Type Site of the Cody Cultural Complex. Orlando: Academic Press.

Knell, Edward J., and Mark P. Muñiz, eds. 2013. Paleoindian Lifeways of the Cody Complex. Salt Lake City: University of Utah Press.

Root, Matthew, Edward J. Knell, and Jeb Taylor. 2013. “Cody Complex Land Use in Western North Dakota and Southern Saskatchewan.” In Paleoindian Lifeways of the Cody Complex, edited by Edward J. Knell and Mark P. Muñiz, 121-143. Salt Lake City: University of Utah Press.

We have a family poem—yes, you read that right. When I was itty-bitty, my dad would come in to wake me up, chiming a poem. (I just learned this poem was a somewhat altered version of Robert Louis Stevenson’s “Time to Rise.”) Dad’s take went like this:

Birdie with a yellow bill,
Hopped upon my window sill,
Cocked his shining little head,
“Get up you sleepy head!”

Over the years, my family added new and different verses to the poem, depending on the situation. For instance, during one winter cold snap, where many days fell below zero degrees, it went like this:

Birdie with a yellow bill,
Frozen to my window sill,
Can’t cock his shining little head,
Oh my gosh, I think he’s dead!

Thus rhyming, verse, and alliteration were very important methods of communication in my family—and the habit has stuck with me over the years. During the summer of 2018, while conducting the Pembina Gorge Fossil Dig, inspiration struck. We had been excavating a partial skeleton of a mosasaur (a type of marine reptile you can view on display at the North Dakota Heritage Center & State Museum) and were taking a dinner break. Sitting around the table with friends and colleagues, I began coming up with mosasaur rhymes. I struck on a fun rhythm—a couplet with 10 beats per measure.

Sit all around, and I’ll tell you a tale:
Meet our friend Mosasaur, big as a whale!

Well, that was a fun intro! I wondered how much I could write about mosasaurs before running out of ideas and giving up? The evening stretched on, and I bounced ideas off of Clint Boyd, senior paleontologist with the North Dakota Geological Survey, and fossil preparator Trissa Ford, who were also on the dig with me. By the end, we had figured out most of a book filled with an array of mosasaur facts. The mosasaur was not a dinosaur. It lived in the water. Some were big; some were small. They had different diets, had live births, and breathed air. The list kept going, and it was fun to read, so my bosses with the North Dakota Geological Survey decided I should make a children’s book, illustrate it in a fun way, make it relatable to kids, and include a few extra fact bubbles to fill in some of the complex ideas.

This is the start of my storyboard layout, where I played around with design and action.

These are more refined storyboard sketches, before inking and watercolors have been added.

Before the storyboard got too far, I needed to figure out the feel for the book. I took a page I knew I wanted to use, drew it up four times, and experimented with pencils, ink, shading, and color.

After sketching some test runs, I settled on an ink-and-watercolor style. Not too much detail, but not too little either. All were done with bright colors. The next few weeks were spent painting, painting, painting! My storyboard was printed and taped to my desk—as I finished one page, the storyboard would get a nice big X over the image. It was very satisfying to see the to-do list shrink and the ready-to-scan pile grow.

A fully painted page.

Once everything was painted and scanned, I had to put the images, text, and facts together in the computer. To be honest, this fiddling, placing, and tweaking probably took more time than the writing and painting. However, I am pleased with the result. Coming up with a title for the project was also fun. Since it’s a prehistoric setting about a mosasaur, and  “-storic” sounds pretty close to “story,” what if we made it a “PrehiStory”? But wait! What if we make up other stories in the future? Then it could be: “PrehiStories”!

And finally, here is the painted page with text overlay.

Thus was born, “PrehiStories: Mosasaur.” If you’d like to pick up your own copy, they’re available at the North Dakota Heritage Center & State Museum gift shop.

*  *  *

Here is a bonus bird verse from my childhood. My dad had gone boating, and while hopping out of the craft, injured his arm quite badly, which inspired the following rhyme:

Birdie with a yellow beak,
Caught his wing upon a cleat
Turned his head to take a peek,
“Oh my gosh I’ve sprung a leak!”

A variety of things are always happening in North Dakota’s archaeology collections. Here are just three highlights from the past few months.

In November, I went with several other staff to help deinstall the Scattered Village display at the Mandan Public Library. Scattered Village (32MO31) was a Mandan village. Part of the current city of Mandan is now located on top of this archaeological site. Some of the village was excavated during street work in the 1990s, and the artifacts on display are from that project. The ceramics are a lot of fun to look at up close. For instance, there is an animal effigy on this large pot fragment.

A reconstructed straight rim pot with an animal effigy from Scattered Village (32MO31). SHSND AHP 99.10.V9.302.2740

This vessel fragment below is elaborately decorated—you can see the marks from the paddle used to shape the vessel on the lower part, while the top part is decorated with cord-and-tool impressions.

A reconstructed Knife River ware rim with cord-and-tool impressions from Scattered Village (32MO31). SHSND AHP 99.10.V2.278.2935

I also can’t help but like the tiny face on this rim sherd pictured below.

Detail of a face-like effigy on a Le Beau ware rim from Scattered Village (32MO31). SHSND AHP 99.10.V6.256.2932

Another highlight was a donation of Paleoindian projectile points from a site in McLean County (32ML1350). The points in this collection are around 9,000 years old. They are very finely made, and the edges are still rather sharp. This kind of point is called an Eden point; it is made from Knife River flint.

An Eden projectile point, made of Knife River flint, from 32ML1350. SHSND AHP 2020A.3.47

This Eden point, below, is made from porcellanite.

A porcellanite Eden projectile point from the McLean County site (32ML1350). SHSND AHP 2020A.3.44

This is a Scottsbluff projectile point. It is also made from Knife River flint.

A Scottsbluff projectile point made of Knife River flint from 32ML1350. SHSND AHP 2020A.3.41

Another fascinating donation came from southeastern North Dakota. We were excited to receive it since we don’t have many collections from that part of the state. It includes several large trays of projectile points, drills, and other objects.

This copper point and stone drill are from southeastern North Dakota. SHSND AHP Maercklein Collection

Many of the points, including the one above, are from the Archaic period, which lasted from approximately 5500 B.C. to 400 B.C.

Here are a few of the many projectile points from this donation. We so appreciate the generosity of these donors. SHSND AHP Maercklein Collection

Faithful readers of this blog have known about the upcoming Fashion & Function: North Dakota Style exhibit since this past February. By now, they might be thinking, “Gee, this exhibit is taking a long time.” Likewise, my friends and family who read my blogs out of obligation might be thinking, “Gee, I wonder when Lori is going to stop talking about mannequins?” So, I decided to write about the time it takes to complete just one aspect of the exhibit production process: mannequin dressing. Hopefully, this will shed light on why it takes so long to put together an exhibit.

Wouldn’t it be nice if we could just slip an outfit on a dress form and call it good? That would make exhibit preparation so much quicker. But out of 140 outfits used in this exhibit, I can count on one hand the number of forms that didn’t need some sort of modification. (Former North Dakota first lady Grace Link, I love you and your dress.) A good mannequin dresser never makes the garment fit the form. It’s always the other way around. The form must fit the garment. Modifications may include building out the forms by padding out waistlines and hips, or even adding arms and legs. Alternately some forms need to be reduced, which requires chopping off specific body parts. The desired result of all this work is to make historical garments appear their best, while protecting and supporting them throughout the exhibit.

Let’s take a look at one example. Catherine Tschida Patterson of Sims, North Dakota, wore this cotton and lace dress to her graduation in 1912. (Learn more about this cool dress.)

Step 1: First, we try the garment on the form to get a sense of what needs to be done. In this case, Catherine’s dress looked pretty empty and needed padding at the bust and hips, as well as arms.

Just an “empty” graduation dress. SHSND 1988.230.2

Step 2: I layered on polyester quilt batting to those areas that needed padding. Polyester batting is scratchy, so we added a layer of cotton stockinette tubing to protect the garment. This also helps hold the batting in place. Then the dress goes back on to see if it looks right. Sometimes I need to repeat this step two or three times before I get the padding situated correctly.

Here, polyester batting has been used to fill out the bust and hips. The top half of the form has also been covered with stockinette.

Step 3: The next step is usually to add arms and a linen neckline cover. Because Catherine’s dress is a light, cotton lingerie-style dress typical of the early 1900s, it also needed a slip. Our curator of collections management, Jenny Yearous, sewed a white cotton slip to protect Catherine’s modesty.

“Armed” and ready for dressing.

Underwear is important.

Step 4: The final dressing. The finished product is a more lifelike shape consistent with typical women’s fashion during the 1910s. Most people won’t notice the form underneath the garments. But the work that goes into the form helps each item of clothing look its best.

Catherine Tschida Patterson’s dress is now ready for exhibit. SHSND 1988.230.2

Other types of modifications used during exhibit preparation include carving down forms or removing body parts altogether.

Here I am chopping off feet so boots can fit, a little something I call “Cinderella,” the twisted, non-Disney version.

A curator’s work can be brutal.

Meanwhile, other staff are working hard on the many additional pieces of the exhibit puzzle. I’ll leave you with a list of some other parts of the exhibit-making process you may not have thought about:

• Researching and writing exhibit text
• Writing object labels
• Editing exhibit text and object labels
• Graphic design of approved exhibit text and object labels to make them visually appealing and easy to read
• Graphic design of all photographic images in the exhibit
• Video production and editing
• Working with lenders for items loaned specifically for this exhibit
• Design of exhibit floor plan and layout
• Fabrication of the exhibit floor plan and layout
• Fabrication of exhibit furniture (risers, boxes, etc.) and special object mounts

Winter is upon us, and the holidays are in full swing. At the State Archives, we have had to make some adjustments to the reading room because of the ongoing COVID-19 pandemic. Researchers will notice several changes to procedures since the State Archives reopened to the public in late June. So far, folks seem to have adjusted well.

The biggest change is in access and hours. Before the pandemic, we were open Monday through Friday from 8 a.m.-4:30 p.m., and the second Saturday of each month from 10 a.m.-4:30 p.m., unless it was a holiday. Since reopening, our hours as well as those of the larger North Dakota Heritage Center & State Museum have adjusted, with the State Archives open from 9 a.m.-4 p.m. Monday through Friday, and 11 a.m.-4 p.m. on the second Saturday of the month. We use our time at work before and after opening hours to prepare for the day and take care of email requests.

In addition to shortened hours, access to the reading room is by appointment only, with visitors capped at no more than six at any given time to maintain social distancing. Researchers are requested to contact us ahead of time via email at archives@nd.gov, or by phone at 701.328.2091, to schedule an appointment. This has worked well in most cases, and we have only hit maximum capacity a handful of times.

Visitors to the State Archives must now wait at the entrance for a member of the reference team to come and speak with them.

Social distancing has also necessitated some changes to the reading room beyond shortened hours and limited capacity. We have had to shift equipment and furniture to maintain spacing for the safety of our visitors. The result is reduced technology available for researchers. Prior to closing for the pandemic, we had six microfilm readers/printers and six computers available for research. In order to space everything out to maintain the recommended six feet of distance, two of our microfilm readers/printers are no longer accessible to the public. Meanwhile, four research computers along the windows are available for use. To date, it’s the microfilm readers most likely to be at capacity.

The number of available microfilm readers has been reduced due to social distancing measures.

While our research computers were much closer together before the COVID-19 closure last spring, we do like how the current spacing gives patrons a little more privacy, too.

Access to our materials has also changed since reopening. While our microfilm is still self-service, before the closure patrons would leave the film on top of the cabinets for staff to put up at the end of the day. Now we have patrons place used rolls into a white box. Used microfilm is held for 24 hours before we return it to the cabinets. In addition, our physical collections, such as manuscripts and state government records, require a 24-hour notice, so we can pull them down for quarantine. Researchers wanting to look at collections need to plan in advance because we are no longer able to pull materials the same day.

Tables in the reading room are spaced to ensure proper social distancing is maintained.

When they are finished, patrons must now leave books on the red cart so that staff can quarantine the materials.

In addition to these measures, we sanitize the equipment after each patron has used it to ensure a cleaner environment. We also have hand sanitizer placed around the reading room. As is the case in the rest of the Heritage Center, masks are required for visitors. Compliance with and understanding of the various changes has been positive, with folks happy to have us open again. As always, we continue to provide remote reference services via email and phone.

Olive, the other reindeer, unofficial holiday mascot of the State Archives, was the creation of retired State Archivist Ann Jenks.

Finally, with the holiday season upon us, our mascot, Olive, the other reindeer, has taken up residence in the reading room to guard it and ensure folks adhere to the new rules. While it has been an adjustment for us as well, we are making the best of a unique situation while continuing to provide the valuable services of the State Archives. Have a wonderful holiday season and a safe remainder of the year. Here’s hoping 2021 will see an end to this pandemic.

One day when he was a 15-year-old North Dakota farm boy, Lawrence Welk’s plow hit a rock, jerking him headlong onto the ground. When he got up, he realized his left arm was broken. He later told his biographer, Mary Coakley, that he wept, not from the pain, but because he feared he might never play the accordion again. Of course, we know that didn’t happen. Before his arm had even recovered, he figured out how to run a sling around his left knee, tie it to the accordion, pump with his knee, and play the instrument with just his right hand.

This year has felt a little like playing the accordion with one hand. Everyone has dealt with exceptional stress and uncertainty, and many, including several of my friends and acquaintances, have faced personal tragedy and loss. It’s been a tough year by any measure.

But at times like these, we need encouragement the most. Looking back on this year, I’m incredibly proud of our team at the state historic sites. Like Lawrence Welk strapping an accordion to one knee, staff worked with tenacity to make sure 2020 was anything but a lost year. Though many of the sites had fewer visitors, staff at these sites took advantage of the quieter season to achieve restoration and maintenance goals. Here are a few of the highlights from five sites I manage.

At the Former Governors' Mansion State Historic Site, Site Supervisor Johnathan Campbell achieved a long-term goal of restoring the front vestibule. Because the circa 1980 wallpaper was starting to peel, he did some investigation and found a small area of original textured plaster finish from the early 20th century that had survived intact behind a row of coat hooks. He then carefully recreated this brocade finish throughout the rest of the vestibule, including texturing, sanding, color-matching, painting, and applying a contrasting wash. Additionally, he repainted the radiator its original gold color and replaced the modern light switch with a historically accurate push-button switch made of brass and mother-of-pearl. This often-overlooked room is now a gem of skilled restoration.

Site Supervisor Johnathan Campbell recreated this historic brocade finish in the Former Governors’ Mansion vestibule.

At Whitestone Hill State Historic Site, our new site supervisor, Stewart Lefevre, began removing lichen growth from the soldiers’ headstones. Marble, given the conditions on the North Dakota prairies, is not nearly as permanent as one might think. Overly powerful chemicals or abrasive tools can easily damage the surface. With advice from staff in Bismarck who have done similar cleaning projects, Stewart tested incrementally more powerful tools to ensure there were no adverse effects. He eventually found a combination that removed the lichens without harming the stone. He hopes to continue this work next summer.

Stewart Lefevre, site supervisor at Whitestone Hill State Historic Site, was able to remove the lichens on this headstone, left. The remaining discoloration, right, will diminish naturally over the winter, but we will apply additional cleaners next season if necessary.

Meanwhile, we started a new mowing pattern at Whitestone. We let more of the prairie grasses grow, but mowed meandering paths through them. This more naturalistic approach still required Stewart to make sure that noxious weeds did not have a chance to take root and spread. We were soon stunned with the results as we watched hundreds of native wildflowers bloom across the site.

North Dakota’s state flower, the wild prairie rose, has thrived at Whitestone Hill State Historic Site following our new mowing regimen.

At Pembina State Museum, Site Supervisor Jeff Blanchard and his team removed dead, non-native landscaping from the front entrance area and began research on native replacements. Soon an ethnobotany garden will greet visitors. Each plant in the garden will illustrate the many purposes that Ojibwe, Métis, French-Canadian, and other people of the region found, including plant names in their various languages.

Pembina State Museum staff removed dead plants and hundreds of pounds of landscaping rock to make room for an ethnobotany garden, which will be planted in the spring.

At Stutsman County Courthouse State Historic Site, the site supervisor, Steve Reidburn, applied one of his great skills and hobbies—woodworking—to the new civics exhibit. He created display case bases that protect original courthouse objects while mimicking the look of historical office desks. The results speak for themselves.

One of the display bases Site Supervisor Steve Reidburn made for the 1883 Stutsman County Courthouse State Historic Site.

At Welk Homestead State Historic Site, Site Supervisor Brian Grove, his staff, and local volunteers managed to repaint the blacksmith shop, granary, and garage, using a high-tech primer that should last for many years, if not decades. They also established a Gemüsegarten (vegetable garden), which included heirloom varietals of popular German-Russian crops, among many other improvements to the grounds.

A volunteer helps us repaint the granary at Welk Homestead State Historic Site.

This short list of highlights doesn’t even touch on the many capital improvement projects that also took place at sites (most of which were done by professional contractors), or the numerous other projects at those sites managed by my colleagues Fern Swenson and Chris Dorfschmidt.

Although many staffed sites saw fewer visitors due to cancelled events and reduced travel, we were surprised to learn that total visitation at our sites actually went up 44% in 2020. The increase in socially distanced visits to our quieter unstaffed sites, especially Double Ditch Indian Village State Historic Site, more than made up for the decrease in foot traffic elsewhere.

We’re glad our historic places, which have seen hundreds of years of tragedy and joy and have even survived other pandemics, were able to help ground people during uncertain times. When you do visit again, we hope you’ll be encouraged by the hard work our staff has done.