Digging into the Past

But the 65 campers gathered for a 20-year reunion the first weekend in August 2000 were fully aware. They had been part of JMU archaeological crews racing to uncover artifacts before the Army Corps of Engineers flooded the past forever. During the summers of 1979 and 1980, the latter were erecting Gathright Dam, the former digging into the entire sequence of human history. And the ground reluctantly yielded clues, inch by foot by grid by mile.

Laboring nine to 10 hours a day, five days a week, students traded sweat equity for thousands of artifacts from distant cultures. To be more precise, from "Perkins Point Ö 44BA3, a Prehistoric Stockaded Village," according to a report by student Thomas Whyte and anthropology professor Clarence Geier. This report to the U.S. Army measures about an inch thick -- comprising just one inch out of a total
4-foot stack of reports on several sites finally submitted.

"Mr. Billville," the M*A*S*H-like tent city housing students and staff those summer months, formed the third largest city in Bath County -- a stat somewhat diminished when you realize Warm Springs and Hot Springs were Nos. 1 and 2. The tent city was named for the program's co-director, sociology and anthropology professor Bill Boyer, plus a puppet on TV's popular Saturday Night Live. The irreverent but affectionate humor also extended to director "Dr. Clarence" or "Frog" Geier. The hard physical labor performed under pressing deadlines and austere living conditions bound professors and students to closeness beyond that found in the regular classroom. Intense mutual respect resulted.

Geier recalled that his own inexperience gave him "the boldness to take it on." What he and the students "took on" was the largest archaeological dig in the history of the Commonwealth of Virginia, an effort to uncover clues to human life and write a heretofore unknown history. They identified 600 sites for Bath County, the majority pre-historic native American. What they produced were reports that are still valid and a reputation for JMU that still draws archaeological project requests and millions of dollars.

"It amazes me the level of performance our students can rise to when given the opportunity," says Geier. "Everything our program has accomplished has been the result of student performance. It was a slate we had to write on and we did."

Carole Nash, a student then, now heads field schools herself. She considers the dig "a seminal experience." She details austere life in World War II surplus army tents with basic latrines and showers. She also cites the inherent excitement in the urgency, "working in front of bulldozers, the lake rising, a sense of responsibility to learn as much as possible before it was 'inundated' as the Corps put it."

Heading the 2000 reunion along with alums Cindy Schroer and Sandii Huemann-Kelly, Nash says, "I never imagined how important Gathright was to so many people until we began working on a reunion. For many of us, it was a turning point in our lives -- one that influenced our choice of career or mate or lifelong friendships. I feel comfortable in saying that there has been nothing like it at JMU, before or since."

But lest this all sound too lofty, while days encompassed hard work, there was also plenty of R & R. Killer volleyball games might precede nightly jams -- primarily bluegrass -- which local musicians would join. Competitions piled plastic milk cartons sky-ward -- 15 being the freestanding record. Swimming at Falling Springs provided an exotic outlet in paradise. Beer and conversations around a campfire or at a nearby hangout eased fatigue and raised spirits.

And in spite of calorie-burning, muscle-toning days, some diggers gained weight. At three meals a day, six days a week for 12 weeks, new-to-a-kitchen Ron Meliment turned out 15,120 meals for 70 to 80 people. He was a hotel-restaurant management major who liked the outdoors, so he opted for the cook's job. "Favorites were quiche, shrimp feasts and a big side of beef one night a week. 'Frog' said the only complaint was quantity -- they were gaining weight."

Story by Nancy Bondurant Jones
Photos courtesy of the Department of Sociology and Anthropology