Fossilize

In April of 2008 I sat in front of my computer cycling back and forth between several web pages. An inner conflict had developed. I had chosen to set out on a project that dealt with me actively reconstructing and telling the story of my hometown Vernal, Utah transitioning from a tourist town to an oil boomtown. The first problem I had to answer (the source of the conflict) was: where do I begin the research process? Google Maps was open and from the glowing red, green and blue pixels of my screen I could see it all. Satellite photographs of the entire arid region in relatively high detail. On screen there were images of newly sprouted subdivision abutting the unique geological formations that had existed for thousands of years in solitude. These formations held my memories of the place, and were the very reason I was going to work on the project. Pausing for a moment I asked again if I could do all my research here, in Richmond, Virginia on the web? It did not take me too long before I answered the question, closed Google maps, and clicked “purchase” from the online ticketing agency. 

For the next 90 days I worked furiously “on location” in Vernal, Utah. Where I filled boxes and folders with thousands of photographs, audio files, and other various artefacts all with the hope that I would be able to articulately and elegantly describe the place I remember. Over the course of the trip I learned a great many things both about myself and the community. I recognize that it is a rare opportunity I had to be able to relocate physically and devote 100% of my time towards research. It was incredibly valuable. By default this type of immersion brought a new perspective not available to outsiders. While immersed in the community I began to realize that the sediment from my eroding memories was not simply fading away into nothing, instead it was accumulating as new memories of others. This accumulation could either contribute positively or negatively to the development of place. Place being defined as the relationships that exist between people, history, and landscape.

Folding and uplift began in the late Cretaceous time (Laramide Revolution), some 70 million years ago, and continued to recur at intervals during the Tertiary, particularly late Eocene, when maximum elevation is thought to have taken place. At this time uplift was accompanied by large-scale faulting. Total elevation was approximately 45,000 feet, but probably at no time did the range greatly exceed its present height because erosion more or less kept pace with uplift.

People. During the middle of the summer, while still fully immersed in the project, I found myself in Provo, Utah a city about 200 miles from Vernal. I was in route to the wilderness of Southern Utah but had taken a stop over to visit a friend. It was July 4th and the town was celebrating the American holiday in traditional fashion, with a parade. My hostess/friend had invited me join her for a family barbecue at her aunts home, which happened to be on the parade route. Being someone who will never turn down an invitation, I agreed. As we approached the house, amidst the latter part of the parade, I realized this was an event not to be taken lightly. Introduction soon ensued, and I found myself in a swirl of conversations. Where topics ranged from: tree forts, simple gardening techniques, how to build a rickshaw, landscaping with outdoor staircases, carrot costumes for adults, and probably everything in between. Somewhere between bicycles and slate roofs the food was brought out. Lemonade, burgers, and bean salad created a pause in conversation. Plates were filled in a rhythmical fashion. Then as if what we were talking about before did not matter we moved on to a myriad of other new and exciting topics including: peas, spinach, and fruit. As the barbecue was wrapping up I was summoned over to a table where I was introduced to Lillian and LeGrand who had over the course of the barbecue heard about my project. Lillian, the matriarch of the family, and LeGrand, her brother had both gone to high school in Vernal. But had left shortly after. That was over 50 years ago, they explained. I began to answer their queries explaining why I had the interest in Vernal. LeGrand then took control of the conversation and began recounting his memories. After only a few minutes connections were made. LeGrand had played football with my grandfather, and knew him rather well. Once this was established the names began to flow liberally from his mind. “What about Royal Henderson, Henry Millecam, Yvonne?” He began to ask. I felt foolish, realizing that I should know these people. For the next hour I sat in the company of these two former residents from Vernal and simply listened to them recount their experiences. I was in awe.

During the Paleozoic era, life became abundant and highly developed even in the earliest period, the Cambrian. The long transition from the simpler, earlier forms of life to the later, more complex ones with external shells is not always clearly indicated. Metamorphism and erosion of rock layers have helped produce the gap in our knowledge of this transition period. New fossil discoveries may in time, however, help to complete this life record.

History. Not being able to completely separate myself from the digital world, which was never my intention, I found myself perusing through items on Ebay. I was mostly looking for printed ephemera: postcards, books, maps, et cetera. Oddly enough I found what I was looking for. A seller, located in Florida, happened to own an early United States Geological Survey map of Vernal. Listed in the description of the map was this statement “Perfect for History Buffs, Treasure Hunters, Geo-Cache Enthusiast, Avid Collectors”. Naturally I had to purchased it. When it arrived I immediately pulled it out to find the coordinates of Watson a ghost town I had read about in the library of the local historical society. The drive to Watson was easier than I imagined. A freshly paved road heads south from Vernal. The pavement was strikingly dark as it crosses over the rainbow colored clays of Jurassic age sediments. The road hummed with a steady stream of trucks heading towards the oil and natural gas fields. Eventually I parted with the traffic and pointed the car east following two dusty ruts toward Watson. Walking to the indention where the town once stood I could not help but pause and think of the mortality of my Vernal. What would cause its demise? Watson’s slow death had been caused in part by the automobile which brought about the removal of the short line railroad that had linked the small mining town to civilization. What is it that links Vernal to the rest of civilization? Everywhere around the foot print of the town I saw the efforts and successes of the clay hills in reclaiming the past with the intention of creating the present.

The most important formation…is the Morrison, of late Jurassic age, which contains the fossil bones of dinosaurs… The Morrison… includes a large variety of sedimentary rock types and structures of much interest. The formation is made up of more than 800 feet of conglomerate, sandstone, shale, claystone, marlstone, bentonite, and nodulare limestone. Thin layers of aragonite (a calcium carbonate mineral occur in the shale beds, and aragonite concretions of small and large size, some replaced with jasper or chalcedony, have formed in the layers of limestone. A five-foot bed of chert crops out in many places in the upper shale. Some of it occurs as a nondescript gray quartz-flint rock. But frequently it is found to contain distinct varieties of minerals, such as blue and red dendrite, red and yellow jasper, chalcedony, agate, and opal, or mixtures of all of them. The descriptive term “rainbow beds” is sometimes used for this formation of many colors which include white, cream, maroon, green, red purple, and yellow.

Yes, I am trying to preserve the past. Hoping to slow the process of erosion. Now, with the “on location” portion of my project becoming history I am back to where I started. Sitting in my office in Richmond, Virginia, staring into the red, green, and blue pixels of my computer monitor cycling back and forth between windows. Just for fun I have typed the coordinates for Vernal into Google. It is still there, the same satellite imagery I saw in April. I feel reassured of my decision to devote and begin my research of Vernal by going to that specific place. With new perspective and understanding the issues and problems of preserving my past have become clearer. The newly built homes in the subdivision are no longer just structures creeping into the wilderness, they house people. Individuals who have shared stories with me. Individuals who have their own personal connections to the place. My memories are still eroding, carried away by summer thunderstorms into the arroyos and gullies that line the highway systems. Now I understand that the process is natural. Just the workings of geological time where rocks are striving to create and preserve their own memory.

From two sources

1. A Popular Guide to the Geology of Dinosaur National Monument. G.E. Untermann and B.R. Untermann Dinosaur Nature Association, 1969.
2. My Personal Journal May–November 2008.

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bread from the richmond bread man dimensions 9cm x 9cm x 6cm

this artefact needs no explanation, as to why I found it interesting.

I have found plenty of fishing lures, but this one interested me because I found it miles from a river or lake, it was underneath an oak tree. So many questions need answered. However, I think what interested me most in this little artefact is the knowledge that I’ll never know where it came from. This lure represents mystery, and I like that.

More to come soon!

Among the nicknacks and mementos in my parents house there was one that particularly interested me as a child. In fact even now this object still captivates me. That object is silver spoon. This spoon doesn’t exist in a elaborate setting of heirloom dinnerware, no it is on its own. And the spoon was used, everyday my mother told me, by my great grandmother. There is evidence of this from the patina and tarnish that extends down the handle. Once there was intricate patterning in the handle now it is barely there. But most interesting, with regard to this spoon, is the asymmetry of the actual spoon part. Half of the spoon has been ground down to about a 35° angle. Again, my mother describes this happening as a result of my my great-grandmother using her spoon to stir the same pot of mush in the same way, day after day.

I am organizing the artefacts from my trip, yes I am—to steal the sentence from Walter Benjamin’s Unpacking my library. Sand and bits of drift wood replace the worn and dusty pages in my library. a collection of itmes inanimate objects relatively small appears to be a collection of collections. Each one serving as a mnemonic device returning me to a world I once inhabitied. Some may describe this as being overly nostalgic and pherhaps their judgment is warrented for I enjoy nostalgia and in it I’m reminded of how I felt, and how I’ll feel again. Somewhere in my collection is a small pink rock taken from island park 4 years ago. I wish I had the rock now, to hold it to observe its smooth features. What strikes me most about this rock is that it has moved beyond a memory and it has risen to the level of being something worth remembering—the metamemory. This is a place reserved for only the most treasured objects. Items that shield and bury meaning. Making them extra personal even mysterious. Secrets ready for the world to see, but only coded so as not to be taken lightly.