Letters A Different Viewpoint While Professor Charlie Beeker should be congratulated for his innovative and sustainable projects to preserve historic shipwrecks, (See “Museum Under the Sea,” Spring 2013) the view from the shore must be quite different. Imagine yourself a citizen of one of the poorest countries on earth, living day to day, and in comes this arrogant foreigner, barking orders from his comfortable chair, smoking cigars that cost more than a day’s wages, if you can find work, that is. Such normal activities as fishing and finding objects on the beach are suddenly proscribed. Not a pretty sight. Perhaps Professor Beeker could use some of his grant money to employ local citizens instead of pushing them further into poverty. A five- or 10-year horizon for prosperity is not of much use when the issue is how to eat tomorrow. Jonathan Sales Chicago, Illinois
Editor’s Corner
Shaker Design It would be hard to overstate the design talents of the Shakers. (See “Striving For Perfection,” Fall 2012) If memory serves, one of the buildings at Pleasant Hill has a pair of three-story spiral staircases that stand separately; they rise elegantly with opposing spirals upwards to considerable height. Floating at a height above them is a transverse barrel vault with windows at either end, bathing the entire assemblage in a soft, indirect light. Marvelous. Don Carmichael Deer Isle, Maine
Sending Letters to American Archaeology American Archaeology welcomes your letters. Write to us at 5301 Central Avenue NE, Suite 902, Albuquerque, NM 87108-1517, or send us e-mail at tacmag@nm.net. We reserve the right to edit and publish letters in the magazine’s Letters department as space permits. Please include your name, address, and telephone number with all correspondence, including e-mail messages. american archaeology
Then as now, many immigrants have come to America in search of a better life. Over the years the pages of this magazine have been filled with stories of foreigners—the British, Spanish, and French in particular— who braved great challenges to start a new life in this New World. The tales of these peoples, many of which are well recorded in history and supplemented by archaeological investigations, are well known. But in this issue we bring you a story that’s gone largely unnoticed by history and archaeology alike. (See “A History Inscribed On Trees,” page 19.) It’s the story of the Basque, who left their home in the western Pyrenees Mountains that span the French-Spanish border, and came to the Western U.S. in the 19th and 20th centuries. Some of them were drawn to California by the 1848 gold rush, and they set to work in the mines. But according to historian Joxie Mallea-Olaetxe, many of them fared better dealing with livestock, and sheepherders happened to be in demand through much of the West at that time. The Basque sheepherders spent much of their time in isolated mountain meadows where their animals grazed. That was perfect for the hundreds of sheep, but tedious and lonely for the humans. Many of then whiled away the hours making carvings in the smooth bark of an aspen. The carvings, known as dendroglyphs, run the gamut from the shepherd’s name to political and financial observations to expressions of joy and sorrow, hope and failure. Many of them are images, some of which were skillfully carved. Dendroglyphs served as the “sheepherders’ media,” Mallea-Olaetxe wrote. They also serve as a glimpse of another immigrant story.
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