OFFICIALS DEMAND SECURITY GUARANTEE FOR STOLEN MUMMY 03/14/99 A mummy that was recovered after being stolen will be returned to its mountain burial cave only if officials there move to ensure security at the site, the country's tourism chief said Sunday. National Museum officials say they tentatively plan to return the 500-year-old mummified remains of a tribal priest named Apo Annu to a cave in Nabalicong village in Benguet province next month. The mummy was stolen from the Nabalicong cave in the 1920s and was eventually donated by a Filipino antique collector to the National Museum in Manila in 1984. "They have to assure the safety of the mummy,"Tourism Secretary Gemma Cruz-Araneta said in a Manila radio interview. She recently visited Benguet and other northern provinces. Among the steps she is demanding is the construction of iron fences to deter thieves and vandals from the cave. Museum officials also want Benguet's provincial government to appropriate a regular budget to maintain the cave. Officials hope the return of Apo Annu's mummy will attract attention, and hopefully funding, to bolster their efforts to save Benguet's mummies, one of the Philippines' rare but neglected cultural treasures. National Museum curator Orlando Abinion said tribesmen from at least five mountain towns in Benguet, about 230 kilometers (145 miles) north of Manila, mummified their dead between the 13th and 16th centuries. The practice ended in the 1500s after the arrival of Spanish colonizers, who introduced Christianity and the practice of underground burial. Since Benguet's mummies were discovered in mountain caves and niches in the early 1900s, they have become popular attractions, exposing them to vandals and thieves.

TRIBE WATCHES ITS PAST AUCTIONED TO THE HIGHEST BIDDERS 03/13/99 12:16PM MONROE, Conn. Paulette Crone-Morange, a member of the Schaghticoke Indian tribe, sat and watched helplessly as pieces of her heritage were auctioned to the highest bidders. As the bids rose, her heart sank. The recent auction of a private collection of 278 Native American artifacts included 11 Schaghticoke baskets. One was made by Crone-Morange's great grandfather, Henry Harris. The baskets sold for nearly $12,000. "We just don't have the money to purchase these things back,"said Crone-Morange, a nurse. The loss of tribal artifacts is a growing problem for the Schaghticokes (pronounced SKAT-uh-cokes). As the market for baskets and other artifacts grows, private collectors and antiquarians pay exorbitant prices, pushing the items out of the Schaghticokes' price range. "There's a tremendous amount of interest in Native American goods,"said Philip Liverant of Colchester, an antiques dealer for more than 40 years. "They seem to have taken off." Watching collectors and dealers push the bidding up, Crone-Morange said she grew more frustrated. "I'm getting angry, saying, 'But these mean nothing to you. This is our family." Crone-Morange, who traces her Schaghticoke heritage back to 1687, said she was able to buy six of the baskets with $1,700 of her own money. But the rest were auctioned off. Liverant said baskets made by Schaghticokes or other tribes typically sell for $300 to $1,000 apiece. Some sell for as much as $7,000, he said. The baskets sold for $50 to $75 in the early 1990s. Schaghticoke archeologist Lucienne Lavin said the same baskets were sold by tribal members for as little as 10 cents in the 1950s and '60s. At least some of the increase in value is due to the baskets' rising popularity. Northeastern Native American artifacts are particularly hot right now, said Jay Lewis, an antiquary from Queens, N.Y. Liverant pointed to another factor: the increased demand among the newly moneyed Mohegan and Mashantucket Pequot tribes for their own tribal artifacts. As the casino-operating tribes spent lavishly to recover their past, that has pushed up prices for other tribes' artifacts. The Schaghticokes are poor in comparison to the Mohegans or Pequots. Crone-Morange, the tribe's historian, said tribal members must use their own money to buy artifacts. The tribe's offices are in a small, nondescript one-story building in Monroe, strikingly different from the sprawling, opulent facilities of the Mohegans and Pequots. Nor have the Schaghticokes been federally recognized like the Mohegans or Pequots. The tribe filed a lawsuit in June 1998 seeking federal recognition and more than 1,900 acres of ancestral land in northwest Connecticut, but those claims are still pending. Chief Richard Velky said the tribe hopes to add that land to its 400-acre reservation in Kent, and then encourage the tribe's 300 members to move to the reservation. Much of the current reservation is in mountainous territory, on land too steep to build homes. About 70 percent of the tribe's members now live in Fairfield County. About 10 percent are in Litchfield County, and the rest are scattered throughout the country, said Velky. The Schaghticokes' baskets have always played a central role in tribal life. Made from interlaced ash or basswood strips and marked with berry juice using stamps shaped from potatoes, the baskets were originally used to carry eggs, berries or even water. Later, many Schaghticokes made a living by selling the baskets to white farmers. Industrious tribal members paddled down the Ten Mile River into New York or up the Housatonic River into Massachusetts to sell the baskets, said Lavin. Now the tribe wants the baskets back. Tribal officials are asking people who own baskets or other tribal artifacts to donate them to a future Schaghticoke museum, or at least to give the tribe first chance to buy them. "This is our heritage. We have more interest in it than the dollars and cents the white man puts on it,"Chief Velky said. Tribal members were frustrated by the auction in November of a private collection. Lyent Russell, a physics professor at Yale, had amassed hundreds of Native American artifacts over 80 years. Tribal members say they contacted Russell's daughter after his death last spring to ask if she would donate or sell them the 11 Schaghticoke baskets in her father's collection. They say she never responded. Russell's daughter, Carol Knight, has a different recollection. "They did not offer me any money for them. My feeling is that my father bought them. He paid money for them," said Knight, of West Hartford. Knight said the tribal member who asked her to donate the baskets said they were sacred tribal objects. "But sacred objects, to me, are used in burial or religious activities," Knight said. "These were not that. These were made for sale." The auction of Russell's collection netted over $100,000. Crone-Morange attended the auction and spent $1,700 of her own money to buy six baskets created by her ancestors in the 1800s. Five others were bid out of her price range and purchased by dealers and private collectors. "They are purchasing bits and pieces of our soul," said Velky. "If it was a crucifix, a torah scroll or a tombstone, I doubt these items would fall under an auctioneer's hammer."

HISTORIC CHURCH TO GET CELL PHONE ANTENNA 03/13/99 01:00PM In a marriage of history and high-tech pragmatism, a Richmond church with Confederate connections soon will be sporting a cellular communications tower in its steeple. St. Paul's Episcopal Church _ where Confederate President Jefferson Davis was worshipping when Gen. Robert E. Lee asked him to evacuate Richmond to escape Union troops _ will be getting the big antenna sometime after Easter, said George A. Huss, chairman of the church property committee. "But when walking by on the sidewalk, you would never know it's there," said Mary Kay Huss, the parish administrator. "The antenna will be placed at mid-level of the steeple below the bells. The wires will run through the ceiling of the church down through a closet and into the garage where the equipment will be housed." In localities across the country, residents have complained and even sued cellular telephone companies over cellular towers, the poles that let companies expand the areas where their phones can receive transmissions. Residents say the towers, which can be several hundred feet tall, are unsightly. Companies had to come up with ways to win approval for their poles, especially in urban areas. One of the strategies they've used in a growing number of areas: Putting the poles inside church steeples. Hiding the antennas in steeples "makes sense because nobody wants the huge towers standing around," George Huss said. "It's becoming very common all over the country for churches to rent space in their steeples," said Tuomi Forrest, director of information and outreach services for Partners for Sacred Places, a nonprofit Philadelphia organization which offers information and advice about fund raising, maintenance and use of older and historic religious properties. "It's a great way for a congregation to get a steady income and get the company to pay for repairs to steeples, especially in old historic congregations who have trouble raising funds,"Forrest said. Church leaders didn't want to disclose how much money they will receive for renting space to the wireless communications company. Forrest, however, said, the contracts can be worth several hundred thousand dollars over several years. St. Paul's hasn't decided how the rental income will be used, but at least 25 percent of all money received by the church goes into community outreach programs, Mary Kay Huss said. One Richmond-area church _ Grove Avenue Baptist Church in Henrico County _ already houses an antenna in its 150-foot-tall brick tower, and Huguenot Road Baptist Church in Richmond will be getting one soon, church officials said. The most creative local approach to disguising cell phone towers, though, may be in Hampton. Sprint officials looking to put a 70-foot-tall pole in the city couldn't find a church tower that would accommodate them, so they decided to build one. Sprint began working with Faith Outreach Center last summer to build a communications pole and make it look like a church bell tower. They even proposed having the faux bell tower play electronic music. The details haven't yet been worked out.

FAMILY BUYS A BUILDING WITH HISTORY, HAS RESTORATION PLANS 03/14/99 The Woodalls, recent transplants to southwestern New Mexico from Anchorage, Alaska, were looking for a storage building for antiques and odds and ends, but got more than they bargained for. John and Judy Woodall and their son Bryan bought the old Silco Mini-Mall in Silver City without even seeing the building, putting a lot of trust into their real estate agent. What they got was a project that is going to keep them busy for about a year, they predict, as they're remodeling it to some of the original plans. They also got a building with a lot of history. The downtown building was built by J.I. Kane of El Paso, Texas, in 1923 as part of the Masonic Building. Owner Eddie Ward and partner Phil Lynch used it as a theater for plays, then a few years later as a movie theater. The name "Silco" comes from combining the words silver and copper, said Ward's daughter, Maxine Rudick. Rudick remembers the theater used to show black-and-white cowboy and adventure films. "I remember after getting out of school we all ran like crazy downtown to see the latest cowboy movie," said Rudick. Some of her favorite stars, such as "Hoot" Gibson and Rex Allen, even came to Silver City and did shows at the theater. "It was kind of the hub of entertainment in town in those days," she said. The theater had two stores on both sides of the entrance, both with doors facing the street and connecting doors to the theater. To the right was a soda shop, where kids often went to sip sodas and eat ice cream after school. Comic books were sold in the windows in the center. The structure is still there, and the discolored outlines can be seen of cabinets, circles where stools stood for many years, and even an outline of an old phone, the kind with a separate mouthpiece and speaker. To the left was a flower shop. Upstairs were a dentist's office and theater offices, Rudick said. A few years after Ward bought Lynch out, he made a movie featuring the then-thriving businesses of downtown Silver City. The black-and-white movie showed area merchants and workers standing in lines outside on the sidewalks. It also showed school children walking out of the three schools in town at that time. Susan Berry, director of the Silver City Museum, said the film ended up in someone's attic in Hurley, was unearthed and after contributors provided enough money for its restoration, was copied into video form and is sold and shown at the museum. The film features the theater as it looked in the 1930s and 1940s with a large neon sign and light bulbs outlining the building face. The new look was attached sometime in the early 1930s. Down came the awnings that shadowed the sidewalk, and the Greek columns that guarded the entrance were squared off in wood to give the front a more solid look. That decade was a hard time, as the Depression affected everyone except, in seemed, for Ward. "I remember my father being better off than most other people," said Rudick. "Everyone went to the movies. It wasn't expensive and people forgot about their troubles for a while." Back then, she said, it only cost a dime to see a movie. The movie theater, one of five Ward operated at the time, was not like some of the other movie "palaces" of the era, said John Woodall. Instead of staircase and balconies lined with ornate banisters and chandeliers hanging from the ceiling, the banisters were rather plain and about six large, round lights lit the theater. He also said it was the only one of the three theaters in Silver City that had a balcony. The other two theaters were also run by Ward, but he rented the buildings. As Rudick remembers, Ward was a member of a group of theater owners who banded together to buy movies. At the time, big movie-making companies were the only ones with enough money to buy movies. The group, Gibraltar Enterprises, was "able to buy films easier and cheaper then," she recalls. Their symbol, which resembles the Prudential rock, still adorns the lobby wall as a blue outline on silver paint. The rest of the theater, after peeling a few layers off, was painted in art-deco colors of lime, rose and sky blue. Berry also remembers the confectionery store. She vividly recalls the soda fountains and juke boxes on tables, where sandwiches and burgers were served. She also remembers when the building was converted into Union Furniture. A new, even floor covered the sloped movie floor and orchestra pit. The balcony was connected with the other wall to make an entire second floor. The front was given a new look, minus some tiles. It isn't a look the Woodalls liked when they first saw their purchase. They drove into town on Thanksgiving, saw the big Silco sign and knew instantly it had to go, said son Bryan. They are trying to restore some of the old Silco theater nostalgia by restoring most of the front, the balcony, the stage and even a few rows of old movie seats. They intend to add a few shops, including another flower shop, an espresso coffee shop, an antique shop _ probably supplied by their own collectables gathered over the years _ and a few other spaces they hope to rent as art galleries. "We kind of have an idea, but we're also making it up as we go along," said John. "It all depends on what we find." What they have unearthed is several old movie posters from the 1940s and 1950s, including one of a Ginger Rodgers movie. Their work has created quite a stir in town and frequent guests drop in to see how the metamorphosis is going. "The rumor was it was going to be a video store," said Bryan. "I've told more people that we're turning it into a McDonald's," he joked. Historic downtown zoning doesn't allow fast food restaurants. "We're doing it in stages," he said, predicting the front would be open in two to three months and the entire building ready in about a year. The younger Woodall, who said the family worked every day for six years for their catering business in Anchorage, added, "This is relaxing, there's no time limit on when it has to be done." "We just wanted a storage shed," said Judy Woodall.

ASU ARCHAEOLOGY TEAM FINDS POSSIBLE KING OF ANCIENT MEXICAN PAST 03/14/99 A trinket salesman drops his bundle on the brick steps of the Pyramid of the Moon. Waiting for tourists, he pulls out a ceramic pipe and fills the ancient plaza with a haunting trill _ unaware of the digging beneath his feet. For months, an international team of archaeologists has been deep inside the pyramid, carving a tunnel toward its center, searching for answers to Teotihuacan's biggest mysteries. And in October, they found something incredible. The team, led by Arizona State University archaeologist Saburo Sugiyama, 46, found a skeleton of a man who died about 1,800 years ago. He was buried among rich offerings of greenstone figurines, obsidian knives, eagles and jaguars. According to Aztec legend, the leaders of Teotihuacan were buried underneath the pyramids. And since his burial was the richest ever discovered in Teotihuacan, experts were betting that he was indeed a ruler _ the first ever found. But was he? The man beneath the pyramid is proving to be as elusive as the city itself, defying labels the public is so eager to give him and leaving scientists like Sugiyama with more questions than answers. Sugiyama pulled a greenstone figurine from the earthy grave and held it in his arms like a newborn. Although it had been buried for 1,800 years, its little teeth still glimmered. "You just don't see stuff like this all the time," he said with a weary smile. Sugiyama's team had been tunneling since June in a joint project between ASU and Mexico's Instituto Nacional de Antropologia e Hisotia (INAH). But they had been going slower than expected and were working 12- to 16-hour days for months to reach the center before their funding ran out. For 2,000 years, the massive stepped pyramids have towered above the treetops as ancient mysteries from Mexico's pre-Columbian past. The Aztecs, inheritors of the pyramids, called the place Teotihuacan (pronounced tay-oh-TEE-wa-con), or "The City of the Gods." They wrapped their mythology around the monuments and gave them cryptic names like "Pyramid of the Moon" and "Street of the Dead." But the actual identity of the people who built the pyramids has puzzled scientists for years. Unlike the Aztecs and Mayans, the people from Teotihuacan had no written language. They left no descriptions of who their rulers were or why they made such magnificent structures. Archaeologists do know that the ancient city grew into a metropolis during the first century A.D. At its peak in the sixth century, the city was larger than Imperial Rome, covering eight square miles. And its population had expanded to 150,000 people, more populous than President Lincoln's Washington, D.C. In its day, Teotihuacan was a superpower. Its dominance over the region was so complete that its cultural influence is found in prehistoric sites as far as Guatemala, 1,100 miles south. For about 700 years, the city thrived. But in its last 100 years, things began to change. Scientists aren't exactly sure, but the government could have become more repressive. The people could have gotten tired of living in such a rigid society. Why Teotihuacan tumbled may never be known. No records exist except for the black chunks of charcoal left from a destructive fire. In fact, although the culture of Teotihuacan was one of the most dominant in the Western Hemisphere, little has been found to document the feats of its military or the courage of its leaders. There has been so little evidence of a king or a queen that some believe Teotihuacan never had an individual ruler, but instead was one of the world's first republics. But Sugiyama once again is looking for a ruler of Teotihuacan. A concrete archway 2 feet thick supports the entrance to the tunnel Sugiyama's research team has cut inside the Pyramid of the Moon. This was the most logical place for Sugiyama to continue the search. Unlike the pyramids of the Sun and Feathered Serpent, the Pyramid of the Moon had never been formally excavated. The loose interior soil has kept other researchers away, fearing cave-ins. Loose dirt crumbles off the walls a few inches from the elbows of a Mexican worker as he pushes a wheelbarrow through the corridor, dimly lit by bulbs cupped in aluminum foil. At the end of the tunnel, a few men crowd behind another, who pounds a 6-foot-long metal rod into the wall, loosening chunks of dirt. Although the outside is faced with coarse, volcanic stones, the inside is filled with a mixture of boulders, rocks and soil. Some days they dig through large sections of packed soil and are able to push forward a yard or so. But other times they encounter walls of basketball-size boulders and have to move slowly, prying them out one by one. Sugiyama's team started the tunnel in June. Within just a few meters, they uncovered what appears to be a wall that formed the outer portion of an earlier pyramid. By October, the team had burrowed 27 meters inside the pyramid and reached the central axis where they turned north. They didn't get far before they came across what appeared to be an animal skeleton. Denise To, an ASU graduate student specializing in the study of bones, was called in to identify the remains. Brushing around the skeleton, she uncovered the pointed orange beak of a large bird, possibly an eagle. Birds don't get buried naturally underneath pyramids _ people put them there, and this meant the team had gotten close to something important. They stopped digging with large tools. Workers now huddled together, squinting in the dim light as they poked around with dental picks. They pulled out jewelry made from shells, ceramic potsherds, obsidian figurines and more bird skeletons. On Oct. 15, To entered the tunnel at sunrise. Told by the night crew that a bright patch of white could be seen through the soil, she dug deeper and uncovered bones, the bones of a man. She dug further, around the patch to the tunnel floor, and found his lower legs. The rest of his body was crouched in a seated position inside the tunnel wall, his head between his knees. In front of him they discovered 15 knives made from flaked obsidian. They were placed in two starlike shapes, each with three knives pointing north, three to the south and three east-to-west. One of the knives was elongated, carved into the form of a feathered serpent. In the corner of the tunnel was a wooden cage containing the skeletons of two jaguars. They left droppings in the cage, so they were probably buried alive. Reports of the find spread quickly in newspapers and broadcasts around the world. Everyone wanted to know if this person was once a ruler. It might be, Sugiyama thought, daring to consider the search might be over but knowing he did not yet have proof. After all, he could only see part of the body _ most of it was still entombed in the tunnel wall. Sugiyama's caution proved prophetic when the team removed the rest of the skeleton in November. His hands were found behind his back as if they had been tied. "We now think that the burial was not a ruler but a sacrificed person," Sugiyama said. The question is why this person was sacrificed. Was it a dedication to the pyramid? To one of Teotihuacan's earliest kings? Or was he a captured enemy? "In the end, it doesn't matter whether they find a ruler," B0026104 Cowgill said. " We're really just looking for answers to questions, and this burial could provide those answers."

RESTORATION PLANS IN THE WORKS FOR LOCOMOTIVE NO. 169 03/14/99 12:42PM The Denver & Rio Grande Railroad brought an entire town's worth of buildings to Alamosa in the 1800s. Now the town wants to give something back to the railroad. Plans are underway to restore a historic steam locomotive and a once ornate business car used by Denver & Rio Grande Railroad officials. Both have been parked in front of the Alamosa depot, now the chamber of commerce office, for nearly 50 years. "Both of them are in need of serious restoration," Melody Johnson, director of the chamber, said during a recent locomotive work session. The chamber, the Alamosa Community Development Center, the Denver & Rio Grande Railway Historical Foundation and a local group, the Friends of No. 169, recently received a $9,971 grant from the Colorado Historical Foundation to determine if restoration is possible. The preliminary testing is estimated to cost $13,000. Built in 1883, locomotive No. 169 is one of only two of its kind known to exist. Before it was taken out of service in the 1940s, No. 169 hauled freight and passengers over narrow-gauge tracks from Alamosa south to Antonito and west over the San Juan Mountains to Durango. Last week, the locomotive's thick, steel-plate boiler jacket was removed so that asbestos could be taken off for pressure tests this week. If tests show the boiler can still hold its pressure, the next step is to renovate it to operating condition, said Don Shank, managing director of the D&RG Historical Foundation. The plan is to create a permanent Alamosa Railway Museum at the chamber office. But if the locomotive can run, they want to use it as a traveling rail museum, tentatively called "The San Juan Express." It could follow its historical route from Alamosa to Durango and may also be operated west from Alamosa to South Fork. The San Luis Valley was settled by Hispanic pioneers who followed the Old Spanish Trail up from New Mexico in the 1850s. Anglos soon discovered the area thanks to the Denver & Rio Grande Railroad line that carried passengers from La Veta over the Sangre de Cristo Mountains to Alamosa in 1878. The Bisbee Mining & Historical Museum and Cochise County Library are seeking historical items to be included in their new History Trunk program. This program provides hand-on history education from a museum point of view. Each history trunk will contain a mixture of historic artifacts, reproductions and books. The museum and library district are creating three history trunks. The first will cover the themes of local mining and minerals. The second trunk will present hands-on materials which tell the story of ranching in our county. The third trunk will introduce children of the 20th century to playtime and toys popular to children at the turn of the century. The museum is looking for items matching these three themes that can be presented and handled by children from kindergarten through sixth grade in classrooms or local library programs. Examples of the type of artifacts they are seeking include chaps, branding irons and spurs for the ranching trunk; an old miner's helmet, carbide lamp and miner's lunch pail for the mining and mineral trunk; and old play toys such as dolls, teddy bears, old train cars and games for the turn-of-the century playtime trunk. If you have such items that you would like to share with children, please contact Judith Stafford, collections manager, at the Bisbee Mining & Historical Museum, 432-7071. They would like to have the history trunks ready for summer programs for children. Donations are tax deductible. Because these artifacts will be handled by children (under supervision), they cannot accept artifact loans. Every Thursday afternoon in March Coronado National Memorial will offer a program at 1:30 pm. The program March 18 is called "A Walk Back in Time." Participants will learn what it was like to travel through uncharted territory while seeking a fortune in gold. Retrace Coronado's 1540 journey from Mexico all the way up to Kansas. Historic costumes will be available to try on. Meet at Montezuma Pass for this half mile hike up Coronado Peak. Programs last one to two hours and are held outdoors. There are no fees. Coronado National Memorial is located five miles southwest of Highway 92. For information call 366-5515, ext. 23. Seven hundred members of the Jerome Miners Union set about rounding up trouble-makers and 75 were loaded into cattle cars and literally railroaded out of town to be released near Kingman. A town that has lost everything a few times over, Jerome has survived to log its 100th anniversary this year. Today it is a thriving, if quirky, tourist attraction in central Arizona. We hiked down to Wet Bottom Mesa in search of the various Indian ruins that were scattered about the area. A variety of metates, or milling stones were found turned over on their tops, resembling turtles edging their way across the desert. Amongst them was at least a dozen Manos or hand stones used to grind mesquite beans or other products into mill. Directors of the Homolovi Research Program were honored in a special ceremony at the Arizona Archaeology Expo at the Tubac Presidio State Historic Park in Tubac on March 6-7. The number of medicine men on the nation's largest reservation is dwindling. Now the tribe is in the midst of a pilot program that attracted more than 300 applicants and provides stipends for young Navajos who want to train to be traditional healers. The Navajo once had some 300 ceremonies and now that has gone down to just 29. First national hantavirus conference to be held April 9-10 in Durango. Although dead since 1881, Billy the Kid remains one of the most popular and written about figures in New Mexico history. The Anasazi were living on the plateau in the mid-1100s. By 1550, the Pajarito Plateau also was abandoned. In March 1998, an alarm sounded at Bandelier's ranger station. Investigators found Brett E. Cooper of Santa Fe, digging for artifacts. Cooper pleaded guilty to one count of felony theft of cultural resources and was sentenced to 10 hours community service and five years probation and fined $5,234. Bill Rathje really digs trash. He's spent a good part of his career mucking through mounds of rubbish, excavating 15 landfills across North America, looking for clues to our modern culture. They don't call him "America's Garbologist" for nothing. The one big finding that has held true for 25 years is that what people say they do and what they actually do are usually two very different things. NASA science educators and the Lakota Nation will welcome the arrival of spring and exchange knowledge of the stars in the Black Hills of South Dakota on March 19-21. They are exploring the connections between recent space findings and traditional Lakota star knowledge. Some history buffs see the the old Brown's Grocery building as a piece of American history and a potential tourist attraction. Back in 1933, Clyde Barrow of Bonnie and Clyde fame and two members of his gang robbed the grocery of $20. Carl Steen came across a notched stone spear point dating to the last Ice Age and found 12,000 years of buried past. Despite the countless hours he has spent excavating American Indian shelter sites -- work that has earned him the praise and respect of professional archaeologists, Rogmann says he never had any particular interest in history. Calling him the "epitome of the conscientious avocational archaeologist," Bill Green of the Office of the State Archaeologist says Rogmann, age 95, accomplished what a professional archaeologist could never do. If you're a Web archaeologist and you want historical data, you gotta go to where they keep the stuff. Get this: It turns out the Web was around way before the 1990s... way before.