Accidental Plains (?) Archaeologist: Archaeology in the Heartland

Abstract

If not accidental, my entrance into the field of archaeology might be described as random. I grew up in a small town nestled among the truck farms of southern New Jersey. As with many kids, I had some interest in finding arrowheads and made occasional treks with my cousin to a site south of town on the Crick, the Cohansey River. As a young boy, many summers were spent at an uncle's farm prowling the countryside with the family dog. We would hike across a small levee or bank to an asparagus field adjacent to the marshes along Delaware Bay. Here innumerable pieces of fragmented pottery and an occasional projectile point could be found. If I knew what an archaeologist was and did, becoming one never crossed my mind. Most of my colleagues appear to have cho