EPILOG

It was early morning, very early, when I walked out to a shell bank exposed by the ebb tide at the mouth of Lostmans River in the 10,000 Islands Archaeological District, Everglades National Park, Florida. The morning air was uncommonly still and only the smell of the salt air seemed to interrupt the quietness. As the sun climbed up over the eastern sky and lit the waters in the Gulf of Mexico, the rays of light flashed like static electricity through the mangrove. The effect was mesmerizing and I don't recall knowing exactly when the eagle landed beside me; it was marvelous. The bird was riveting and its piercing glare resembled that of the Wishram Indian guardian spirit, Tsagaglalal. As we stared back at each other I had the tingling sensation that I could see countless centuries of human prehistory reflected in her eyes. The air seemed to faintly hum with the distant sounds of voices, desires, and lives of people long vanquished by time (John Ehrenhard).

This book has been a cooperative endeavor by people dedicated to providing information concerning various archeological resource protection issues in order to increase the awareness of and appreciation for our nation's heritage. The authors in this diverse group of professionals have all contributed to the principle that we are all archivists of the Nation. As you close this book remember that each of us does have a moral and ethical responsibility to educate our fellow brothers and sisters and provide them with a viable framework for understanding and protecting our portion of the human experience. May Protecting the Past give you counsel in your endeavor to give future generations a chance to see Tsagaglalal in the eye of the eagle.

It is altogether fitting and proper that the First Americans have the last word in this book concerning protecting the past for the future.

"We know that the white man does not understand our ways. One portion of the land is the same to him as the next, for he is a stranger who comes in the night and takes from the land whatever he needs. The earth is not his brother, but his enemy, and when he has conquered it, he moves on. He leaves his fathers' graves, and his children's birthright is forgotten...

When the last redman has vanished from the earth, and the memory is only the shadow of a cloud moving across the prairie, these shores and forest will still hold the spirits of my people, for they love this earth as the newborn loves its mother's heartbeat. If we sell you our land, love it as we've loved it. Care for it, as we've cared for it. Hold in your mind the memory of the land, as it is when you take it. And with all your strength, with all your might, and with all your heart--preserve it for your children, and love it as God loves us all. One thing we know--our God is the same...Even the white man cannot be exempt from the common destiny" (Chief Sealth, Duwamish Tribe, State of Washington, from a letter written to president Franklin Pierce in 1854).

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