Mary's Genealogy Blog: The Real Story Of Our First Date- Part 1

During the summer of 1978 Doug and I were part of the Southern Illinois University archaeological field school. For archaeologists, field school is the place where you learn the basics of archaeological fieldwork. Students learn how to map, excavate and take descriptive scientific notes by working on an actual archaeological site. They also learn how to collect, process, and analyze artifacts. I was one of the 10 undergraduate students enrolled and Doug was one of the 4 graduate student assistants staffing the class.

Over the 6-week summer course we were housed in a neighborhood school in Paducah Kentucky. Our professor, Dr. M., rented this space for the field school every summer. We brought cots and sleeping bags and took up residence in classrooms that had been emptied of their furniture. One of the empty classrooms was used as our archaeological field lab, the place where we processed and analyzed items from our excavations. Dr. M. stayed in a nearby hotel.

It is important to point out a few things at this point. Dr. M. expected the very best behavior from all of us because we were representatives of the university, and his stellar reputation as a good steward of the school while we were in residence, must be maintained. For this reason, there was one very important rule: No drinking was allowed at the school. None!! And, Dr. M. also advised the graduate student assistants against any romantic liaisons with the undergraduate students.

Each day we would drive across the Ohio River, over the old blue bridge, to the southern tip of Illinois, where our archaeological site was located. We were excavating Mississippian mound builder sites in an area known as the Black Bottoms of Illinois. These bottomlands, which are filled with rich and fertile soil, are largely covered with agricultural fields. Our excavation “squares” were in the middle of fields that were planted in corn and soybeans which grew around us as the summer wore on. As expected, it was very hot and humid. We drank lots of water and took salt tablets to combat our sodium depletion. At the end of most days in the field, Dr. M. let us stop on the drive home to have a cold beer at the bar/café in Brookport, IL, before we crossed the blue bridge back to Kentucky. Perhaps he thought if he did that, then we’d be less likely to drink and party back at the school. It worked; a cold beer or two at the end of a hot day was a welcome satisfaction. By the time we got back to the school, we were exhausted.

Now I’ll jump forward to the last day of field school. On this last day our task was to thoroughly clean the school, where we had been living. It was to be spotless! Dr. M. needed to be able to swing this same deal of renting the school year after year, so again his reputation was on the line. We spent the day scrubbing floors and bathrooms, packing equipment and materials, and basically trying to leave the facility as clean as we possibly could. These exhausting tasks took us into the early evening.

Doug and I had not been romantically involved during the summer, but had been increasingly drawn toward each other as the summer field school came to a close. Yes, we are finally getting to the “first date” story. After all this cleaning and packing one of us suggested to the other that perhaps we should go out together and get a few bottles of beer to enjoy. We headed out in the dark with my car, an old green Plymouth Scamp, to procure the beer. But, it had begun to rain and it was soon discovered that the windshield wipers on my car, affectionately know as the “green bomber”, were not working. After only going a short way we returned to the school. Doug had a solution; he had a key to one of the university’s leased “carryall” trucks that we had used all summer. So, it was decided that we would take one of those vehicles for our mission. I know---you’re already saying that perhaps this was not a good idea.

We drove to a local store, purchased a 6-pack of Cook’s beer, one of the most inexpensive beers they sold in Paducah. I expect that initially our plan was to return to the school where we would drink the beer. But, we must have considered that important rule of Dr. M.’s that there was to be no drinking at the school. All those lectures about the importance of maintaining Dr. M.’s reputation in the community, must have nagged at our conscience. Of course, there had been some in the group that had broken this rule. But we were, by and large, rule followers and there was a chance that Dr. M. might return that evening to inspect our final cleaning and packing work. So instead, we drove to a local city park, but discovered it filled with partying teens, and decided that was not a wise place to be.

Ok, we thought, we’ll drive across the blue bridge over to the farmland area where we had been working all summer and just find a little spot to pull off near the river, where we could just talk, have a couple of beers, and later return back to the school. So, that’s what we did. Across the blue bridge we went, down the levy road and off onto a little pullout looking over the mighty Ohio River. No one was in sight. It had stopped raining and it was quiet and serene. We popped open a couple of cans of the Cook’s beer, which had remained unopened until now, and took our first cool sips as we looked out to the river. About 3 sips later, we heard sirens, and saw flashing lights as several police cars screeched to a stop close behind us.

-Mary