Double Ditch Indian Village State Historic Site is one of the most spectacular archaeological sites preserved on the northern plains. The earthlodge village was a regional trading center occupied for nearly 300 years (AD 1490-1785) by the Mandan people. Due to its archaeological significance, the site is listed on the National Register of Historic Places.

Aerial image of Double Ditch Indian Village State Historic Site taken by SHSND quadcopter – November 2013.

Readers of the State Historical Society of North Dakota blog will likely already be familiar with threats Double Ditch faced from severe erosion caused by the 2011 Missouri River flood (please see blog.statemuseum.nd.gov/blog/an-eye-in-the-sky-for-preservation, blog.statemuseum.nd.gov/blog/saving-double-ditch, and blog.statemuseum.nd.gov/blog/double-ditch-bank-stabilization).

Image of rotational erosion of river bank at Double Ditch Indian Village State Historic Site. Image taken by SHSND quadcopter - October 2016.

The State Historical Society of North Dakota, partnering with the Mandan, Hidatsa, and Arikara Nation, the North Dakota Legislative Assembly, and other groups and individuals supporting preservation efforts mobilized after the 2011 flood to address this critical threat to the site. Left unaddressed the rotational erosion would have continued, eroding deeply into the village and causing catastrophic damage to the site.

Image of rotational erosion front at Double Ditch from a trailcam that monitored the location from March 2015 - June 2017.

An engineering plan was developed to stabilize 2,200 linear feet of riverbank from the effects of rotational erosion exposing numerous burials at the site since the 2011 flood. The State Historical Society is grateful to the 2013, 2015 and 2017 North Dakota Legislative Assemblies for appropriation of the $3.5 million dollars necessary to move this important preservation project forward.

SHSND archaeologist monitoring topsoil removal by a track hoe during bank stabilization project at Double Ditch Indian Village State Historic Site – August 2017.

Bank stabilization began in July 2017, and was anticipated to last about five months. Prior to the start of construction, it was anticipated that additional burials would be identified. The State Historical Society and MHA leadership cooperated to follow state laws and the cultural practices of the Mandan to complete this sensitive work. Archaeologists from the State Historical Society were on hand daily throughout the construction period to monitor earth moving activities. All exposed burials were cared for according to proper protocol and will be interred in private ceremonies of the MHA nation after repatriation.

An SHSND archaeologist monitors removal of soil by heavy excavation equipment during the bank stabilization project at Double Ditch Indian Village State Historic Site – August 2017.

The engineering plan implemented to stabilize the riverbank involved removing many tons of soil to reduce the weight on the bank slopes at the site. Installation of a rock -filled trench and hundreds of steel pipes vertically driven parallel to the river bank provide mass and strength to further stabilize the slopes.

A trackhoe works to stabilize a slope during the Double Ditch bank stabilization project – August 2017. Quadcopter image by Dwayne Walker.

Heavy construction equipment was used to install steel pipe piles parallel to the Missouri river bank during the Double Ditch bank stabilization project – August 2017. The rock key trench is already installed in this image, buried between the pipe piles and the river bank.

Aerial overview of the Double Ditch bank stabilization project – August 2017. The two trackhoes in this image are working to install a 20’ deep rock key trench as part of the stabilization plan. Quadcopter image by Dwayne Walker.

On a personal note, I’m humbled to have been involved with the bank stabilization activities at Double Ditch. Since 2002 I’ve been fortunate to be involved in archaeological research conducted at Double Ditch, and the site is very special to many people. It’s my belief that all those involved with the Double Ditch bank stabilization were part of a preservation project whose importance and sensitivity can hardly be overstated. Had the funding not been available and the project not been undertaken, the alternative would have been for the site to continue to be damaged and further eroded by the Missouri River.

Veit Construction employees Baldomero Castillo (Cabo) and John Fay pose with SHSND archaeologists Paul Picha, Brooke Morgan, Meagan Schoenfelder, and Timothy Reed during a break in the action of the bank stabilization project at Double Ditch State Historic Site – August 2017. (Not pictured: SHSND archaeologists Wendi Field Murray and Fern Swenson.)

The bank has been reshaped and landscaping with native plants was installed in early November. Interpretive aspects will be developed over the winter and installed in early summer, after the vegetation has had a chance to develop.

Aerial overview of the Double Ditch bank stabilization project – November 14, 2017. View is to the south. The dark patch on the landscaped slope marks the area covered with an erosion-control product called filter fabric. Filter fabric is used to help prevent erosion until the area develops heavier vegetation. Quadcopter image by Dwayne Walker.

Aerial overview of the Double Ditch bank stabilization project – October 25, 2017. View is to the south. The dark patch on the landscaped slope is a portion of the area covered with an erosion-control product called filter fabric. The location of a non-motorized canoe and kayak access trail is also visible in this image. An erosion-control product called Geo Cell was used in the construction of the trail. Quadcopter image by Dwayne Walker.

We archivists have it all--the opportunity to share the spark of discovery with our patrons; the calming scent of old, pungent books; engaging in conversations and debates about historical minutiae; the comforting hum of microfilm as it speeds through the reader; erasing and writing with pencils; and behind-the-scenes access to history. All kinds of history...

So when brand-new, unheard of, undocumented (at least in our collections) historical nuggets come across the radar of our staff, we are surprised and intrigued to say the least. As the one-stop shop for records of North Dakotans and their activities, we are driven to collect these nuggets so they aren't lost.

11325-00005 Entrance to Camp Lewis and Clark, Bismarck (N.D.), 1968.

Once such nugget was recently discovered, and we are in hot pursuit of any and all documentation for posterity: in 1968, Camp Lewis and Clark (now the United Tribes Technical College) in BISMARCK was a training site for Peace Corps volunteers who went on to direct agricultural and land settlement projects in KENYA. These recruits came from all over the country, including some of the top universities, and were immersed in rigorous Swahili language training. Swahili is an incredibly complex language, where the subject, object and verb are collapsed, the tense structure is unlike that of the English language, time is treated differently, and there are eight genders. Those are just a few of the nuances that make it an especially difficult language to learn.

11325-00006 Work crew, Camp Lewis and Clark, Bismarck (N.D.), 1968.

Kenyan instructors had to devise effective teaching strategies to introduce this brand new language to Americans in a short amount of time. One of the immersion techniques was to ban the use of English from 6 a.m. until midnight. Those caught speaking English during those hours were eliminated from the program.

11325-00007 Lamb barbecue, Camp Lewis and Clark, Bismarck (N.D.), 1968.

In addition, of the young men trained to carry out their responsibilities in Kenya, half focused on agriculture and the other half on establishing cooperative societies. The newly formed Republic of Kenya wanted to populate and use the fertile farmland that had recently been sold back to them by the British government. To this end, the Bismarck trainees honed skills related to range management, engineering, construction of water systems, and many others.

11325-00008 Land cooperative model developed by crew at Camp Lewis and Clark, Bismarck (N.D.), 1968.

The three-month training took place in Bismarck, selected by planners because it was remote enough to eliminate distractions, and could also provide a culture shock to prepare the young men for life in a foreign country. One participant from the east coast described the training in Bismarck as an "exotic experience in its own right before we embarked on life in Kenya." The cross-cultural experience went both ways: for many Bismarck residents, the Kenyan instructors were the first African people they had met.

11325-00010 Alan Johnston with Edgar, Edmund and Larry Fasthorse at the rodeo during his stay at the Standing Rock Indian Reservation, 1968

As part of the training, volunteers were sent to the Standing Rock Indian Reservation to live with families for two weeks. This was intended to provide an introduction to life as a visitor in a different community and culture.
There were several psychologists on staff, observing the volunteers and determining who was fit to move on to perform their duties. Several volunteers either quit the program or were eliminated. The motivations of volunteers varied widely; serving in the Peace Corps deferred, but did not exempt, these men from being drafted into the Vietnam War. One participant remembered sitting with his team in Kenya listening to the lottery numbers being announced over the radio, hoping his number would not be called. Several from the group were drafted and went on to serve in Vietnam.

11325-00011 Trainers and volunteers at Camp Lewis and Clark, Bismarck (N.D.), 1968

Another volunteer remembered the political atmosphere of summer 1968, particularly the politics surrounding protests at the Democratic National Convention. His stay with a family at Standing Rock was memorable, as they watched the protests on television together and discussed their views afterwards.

The participants that I spoke with remember their experiences fondly and vividly. The group maintains contact, and they are celebrating their 50 year reunion next summer. One member is a documentary filmmaker who is currently working on two films: one about the training experience and the other about the Peace Corps time and its context (Vietnam war, Kenya after independence).

The State Archives has worked with the members of the project. We are building a manuscript collection (MSS 11325) to document the unique role that Bismarck played in this international project. The collection currently includes a booklet and syllabus for trainees, as well as photographs taken at Camp Lewis and Clark, Standing Rock, and Kenya. The collection is available to the public, and we are actively seeking documentation to add to help preserve this fascinating story.

A few blogs ago, I introduced the good kind of mold we have in paleontology: silicone rubber, used when making casts of fossils. Depending on the purpose of making a cast, the end result can look very different. If we need to make a cast to replace an original fossil, a lot of time and care are taken to paint the cast to make it look as close to the original as possible. If a cast is meant to be a teaching tool, handled frequently, or given away as a prize, then maybe a more generic paint job (i.e. less time) is used.

There are times when people are conflicted – they found a cool fossil, and they want to donate it to the State Fossil Collection, but they would also like to keep it to show their friends and family. Depending on the fossil, we can make a cast and paint it to match the original. This way the person can keep what looks (and even weighs) the same as the original, but the real one is safe in collections.

Two painted casts of a mosasaur vertebra, and the original. Which is which?

During our 2017 dig season, our public diggers came across two beautiful Tyrannosaurus teeth. Everyone wanted the teeth – yet there is only one of each. What to do? Make copies and paint as close to the original as possible. After making a silicone mold, it was time for an assembly line. There is no point to mixing up all the paint you need, over and over, to paint one tooth at a time. So we cast a bunch, mixed our paint, and started the lengthy process. In order to keep all the surface texture, the paint had to be applied in thin layers. Wash after wash. While it is nearly impossible to match a tooth exactly, we can get close enough. This means lots of small brushes, and patience.

One of the failings of casts is that they are often much lighter than their rock counterparts. To fix this we weighed the original tooth (171 grams). When mixing our plastic (~65 grams), we made up the difference in weight by adding metal BBs without adding a lot of volume.

Original Tyrannosaurus tooth (left) and 80 percent painted cast (right). Weight distribution in both teeth is the same.

We can’t just let the plastic and BBs sit in the mold, or all of the weight would be on one side. So, we have to rotate the mold until our plastic sets. Time consuming? Yes. Great arm workout? Yes. Awesome teeth? Totally.

Becky becoming the human gyroscope. Turn, turn, rotate, pivot.

Just take a walk through any of our galleries at the ND Heritage Center & State Museum, and you will notice countless connections between history and science. Highlighting these connections is one of my favorite parts of working at the State Historical Society. The most recent example I have been thinking about is the tipi.

The tipi is an example of Native American science and engineering ingenuity at work. These cone-shaped homes are well designed for life on the open prairie. The main structure consists of three (a tripod) or four lodgepole pines lashed together with a sinew rope. The tripod is usually set up with one pole on the southeast to frame part of the door, while the other two poles are on the north and south sides respectively. After the tripod is situated, the rest of the poles are added in order so they lock each other in place. A tipi might have as many as eighteen or more poles to complete the structure. The door is usually located on the east side.

Outreach Coordinator Danielle Stuckle sets up a table-top tipi model during a public program.

A tipi cover is made from either several buffalo hides sewn together or from a canvas. The tipi base isn’t a true circle, but is actually more of an oblong, egg-shape. This allows for the fire to remain directly under the smoke hole, yet moves it to the front of the tipi so there is more room for people to sit around the rear of the dwelling. This cone-shaped tipi on an oblong base is aerodynamic. As the wind moves over the structure, it pushes it into the ground and helps stabilize it. There is a slight tilt to the cone to enhance this effect. A tipi is brilliantly designed to stand up to the strong prevailing winds of the Great Plains.

This canvas from the table-top tipi model shows how several buffalo hides are sewn together to make a tipi cover.

A tipi is lined throughout with an ozan, or dew cloth, made out of hide, canvas, or blankets. This liner only goes up about six feet from the ground. There is a gap between the liner and the cover, which creates a chimney effect. This produces a convection current that circulates air in the tipi and pulls smoke out through the opening at the top. The flaps around the smoke hole can be adjusted as the wind changes direction; much like the flue of the chimney can be adjusted. This helps draw the smoke out so that a fire can be used inside for cooking and for warmth. The dead air between the liner and the cover also helps to insulate the tipi and keep it warmer in the winter. Wood pegs are added to the tipi poles to help guide water down the pole, between the cover and the liner. The cohesive effect of water keeps rain water running down this path all the way to the ground and right out of the tipi. If rainfall is really heavy, a gutter or shallow moat can be dug around the tipi, ensuring the inside stays nice and dry.

This scale model of a tipi is used in education programs at the State Historical Society of North Dakota.

A tipi is a well-designed structure, built out of locally available materials, to withstand the unique conditions of the Great Plains. We might not initially think of technological innovations in the distant past as science, though Native Americans used observations and experimentation to build knowledge about corn breeding, animal behavior, weather patterns, geology, and countless other aspects of the natural world. When it came to engineering their homes, Native Americans observed what works in this environment and experimented with different methods to build a better house. Certainly a practical and scientific approach we can appreciate.

When you mention to most people that you are doing inventory, their eyes glaze over and they start thinking of their summer vacation. I am one of those odd museum people, when I think of doing inventory, I think of all the interesting possibilities the inventory might bring and “treasures” I might find. The museum collections are over 100 years in the making and contain more than 74,000 objects (with more added daily). Keeping track of these objects can be a daunting task, so we routinely conduct inventories. Many times we just check off a box saying any given object is in the right place. But every so often, something fun happens—we find a forgotten historical treasure.

One of the most exciting discoveries was the silver filigree lamp shades with pink fringe from the USS North Dakota silver service (SHSND 6068.40-53). Once thought to be missing, they are now on view in the Hall of Honors in the lower level of the North Dakota Heritage Center & State Museum.

Lamp shade, USS North Dakota silver service (6068.40)

That find, however, was recently eclipsed by the discovery of World War I–era surgical dressings made by the American Red Cross.

In preparation for our new WWI exhibits, I did an inventory of all the items donated by the American Red Cross. We have a collection of refugee clothing for men, women, and children, and we have “comfort” items made for the soldiers including knitted socks and a sleeveless sweater. We even have some hospital garments such as bed shirts (what we would now call hospital gowns) and a surgical gown, mask, and cap. These garments were made as models by the regional American Red Cross headquarters and then sent to chapters throughout the state. Along with the model garments, the local chapters received the cut pieces and directions for sewing. While we don’t have the pieces, we do have the model garments and many of the directions. But, I have to admit, I was a bit disappointed we didn’t have any of the iconic bandage rolls or surgical dressings I was reading about while researching the clothing items.

Digging deeper into our records, I found an entry for a “bandage” that came into our collections almost 20 years after the Red Cross garments. So with great anticipation and the help of a wonderful volunteer, we went looking for the bandage. We found a box with the artifact number we wanted, but inside we found only odd textile items and no obvious bandage roll near the top. Disappointed, I figured we might as well pull the whole box and clear up any discrepancies inside.

The first step was to search our paper files—but there was no file in the filing cabinet. Next, I checked the old card file. Prior to a computer database each artifact was given a 3x5” card with the artifact’s information, which hasn’t been updated since the 1980s. This card was the key to the treasure chest. It read, “Bandages, Red Cross, miscellaneous used during war. Received from Red Cross; October 15, 1937.” Instead of one bandage, we found 21 assorted bandages and surgical dressings that had never been properly cataloged. It was exciting as we found each piece nicely labeled: irrigation pad, gauze sponge, gauze wipe, shot bag, pneumonia jacket, and—YES!—a roll of gauze bandage! There is even a triangular bandage, a “many tailed” bandage, a “scultetus” bandage (a bandage used to protect, immobilize, compress, or support a wound or injured body part), and, one of my favorites, a “Paper-backed Irrigation Pad” (SHSND 5991.5).

The paper-backed irrigation pad was a wealth of information. The original catalog card had the phrase “used during war,” and the donation date of 1937 suggested these might be WWI-era items. They could have been from the Spanish-American War or the Mexican Border Conflict, as North Dakota troops served in both conflicts. As the name suggests, the paper-backed irrigation pad has paper as a backing material. But this is not just any kind of paper—it is a newspaper! Lucky for us, it was the front page of the Fargo Forum. While the full date was missing, enough of the headlines and one obituary made it possible for our State Archives team to find the date: Wednesday, June 5, 1918. YES, these are WWI-era items! We also learned the pad was made in or near Fargo, North Dakota, sometime between June 6 and November 11, 1918, but probably closer to the June date. Historic treasure indeed.

Front and back of Paper-backed Irrigation Pad (5991.5)

Seeing all of these medical dressings makes me grateful for modern medicine and sterile conditions, and it makes me appreciate even more the homefront efforts that went into the Great War. The patriotic fervor that swept the nation had young and old men and women knitting scarves, sweaters, and socks for soldiers. But most of all I appreciate the legions of women who worked tirelessly to make hundreds of thousands of items to meet the needs of soldiers and refugees throughout Europe.

Since Halloween is just around the corner, I thought I’d share three mysterious—and a little bit creepy folktales that have been shared about the Former Governors' Mansion State Historic Site, which housed 20 chief executives between 1893 and 1960. Folktales are one of those things that both confound and delight historic house interpreters when their visitors engage them with a statement or question that they believe with all their heart to be true.

1. Buried in the basement?
Having a group of 4th graders ask you “Who was the little girl who is buried in the mansion basement?” can be rather off-putting the first time it is asked, but having multiple groups of 4th graders from different schools, and over the course of years, ask is downright confounding. The easy answer is to tell them the truth – no one is buried in the basement, and then we move on. The harder part is to research and find the source, and give the next group of children asking the question a historically accurate answer.

A little research into the deaths of governors’ children turns up the most likely explanation of how this question formed. Governor Briggs’ daughter Estella died of tuberculosis on his inauguration day in 1898. She is definitely not buried in the basement, but in Howard Lake, Minnesota. After I started explaining to the groups what the basis of this folklore likely was, the question of the little girl buried in the basement stopped being asked after a couple years. Sometimes the truth isn’t as engaging as a juicy rumor, but we try to interpret history as accurately as possible.

2. Murder at the Mansion?
Last spring a new bit of folklore popped up at the mansion. A number of children starting asking about how many governors had been killed while living in the mansion. The answer was, of course, none. Two governors died while in office, but murder was not the culprit.

I asked one young boy where he heard that. Like most folklore stories, he heard it from a friend who heard it from a friend. After pondering this for a while it occurred to me that I was the likely source of the tale. In fall of 2016 Marilyn Snyder with the Bismarck Historical Society supplied me with a copy of the Bismarck Police Log from May 9, 1927, which described a “shooting” at the mansion. Certainly an interesting historical tidbit, and it solved a riddle about what appeared to be a bullet hole in an inner pane of glass in the south parlor of the mansion. How did the story go from being an obscure historical tidbit to becoming folklore? I shared the police record on Facebook. Not long after, friends were telling friends about the murder in the mansion. It will be interesting to see how long this bit of folklore stays around.

The Bismarck Police Log, May 9, 1927

3. Paranormal activity in the parlor?
A variety of ghost stories and paranormal activities are commonly talked about by visitors at the mansion. Quite a few historic homes have similar stories. From curtains moving to footsteps on the stairs to doors mysteriously closing by themselves, these mansion stories have been publicized locally and on national websites. Over the years numerous paranormal groups have tested the mansion for paranormal activity at night and for the most part all have found nothing, except for one group that detected an electromagnetic signature that traveled at a slow walking pace back and forth from the piano in the parlor to the back entry. Searching in the basement turned up no plumbing, electrical lines, or other item that could produce such a phenomenon, and later attempts to locate it all failed.

There are of course, many additional folktales concerning the mansion--some come up on a regular basis, and some only get mentioned during a certain spooky holiday. Most of the stories have some basis in fact, but that fact is often less intriguing than the folktale. Whether true or not, these types of myths and folklore help spark curiosity and create interesting research and learning opportunities for both the visitor and for me.