FOTOFAX FEB. MAR., 1983
HOBBY ON
THE ROCKS
CARROLL WAGNER, STONE-AGE MAN
What cjan you say about an
arroiAiead coUecticn?
Of course! "How many do you
have?"
And Carroll Wagner answers:
"tti, 14,000; sanething like that."
As you try to imagine that many
arrofciieads, he anticipates the
next question.
"I've been interested in them
for as long as I can remember. I
recall picking them ip in plowed
fields viien I was just a little
boy—had a pretty good box full,
then.
"But I sold those, and fcx* a
long time I didn't tMnk about it
very nuch. Then cne day, I was in
a field locking fcr fish bait, and
found artifacts instead: arrows
heads and spearpoints, even banner
stones! I filled my pockets!
"And the old interest has beai
strong ever since."
For several years, Carroll and
his wife, Carolyn, have takai the
coUectiai to their dau^ter's
school far* Indian Heritage Days.
Carroll cones with his thousands
of stones, bringing years of exp
erience and gleanings fhcm history
to share with the kids.
"Most people would call this a
tomahawk", Carroll tells a group
of 4th graders, "But it isn't—
it's a celt. This is a stcne ax.
It could be fitted to a handle,
like this.
"But beating througi a tree
with a rock is hard work! When the
CARROLL and CAROLYN WAGNER, showing their collection of artifacts
in the library of Dana School.
pioneers offered better tools, the
Indians were ready to noke a deal!
"Tonahaidcs came with the vMtes
iho traded fa? flirs and such".
He shows fancy brass tomahaidcs,
prized more for shew than utility.
Then, a toe tag, used for body
counts in the Indian ifars.
The whites brougit bad, as well
as good.
"Did you know the Indians leam
-ed scalping from us?" Carroll
asks. "Histoy bocks usually don't
mention that, ifeny Indian tribes
vrere not warlike at all— they
proved their bravery by 'counting
cot?)', tapping their adversary
with a stick. Our people first
took Indian scalps, to prove how
many they had killed. The Indians
started returning the favo? before
long."
Carroll's collection is part
old, part new. He has learned,
by reading and ejqperimaiting, to
do the work just as ^?oOista^ic
man did.
"All the Indians had to work
with vrere rocks, sticks and
bones," he tells the children,
picking up a piece of flint and an
antler. "So they did this..."
The young people watch wide-
eyed as he quickly presses tiny
flakes fhom the stone.
"And they kept oi like that
'til they had something usable",
he coitinues, sooi shewing the
finished arrowhead. "This is a
bird point, for birds, squirrels,
maybe evai a rabbit for* st?per."
It locks the same as one made
centuries ago, but lifagner says the
practiced eye sees a differoice;
there is an age layer on old wok.
"My oldest arrowhead is a
'North Carolina Hardaway' point",
he says, "It was made about 6,000
to 8,000 years ago."
The children walking around the
display tables at Dana School are
the last group of the day.
"New to pack all this tp and
get it back hone", Carroll laugis.
"Would you believe Carolyn and I
worked fex* two days moving it in?"
They share the moment as the
last child leaves. It has been a
long day.
Teachers and kids have both
enjoyed their time with the modem
man i^iose hands remember skills of
centuries past.
Perhaps a few children have
^ined a real appreciaticxi of
ancioot man. If they have. Car-
roll feels the wak was worth the
effort.
And, as with arrowaniths before
him, the wok will endure in the
stcxies he has shaped.
HAVE YOU MET?
JULIE SMITH, Chemical Engi
neer, is on loan to Brevard from
ESD, Wilmington. Julie works in
Casting Technical; lives in Green
ville, South Carolina.
IT HAPPENED TO
BILL BRANTON
"Look, I've been using chain
saws since 1947," says Bl.il ETan-
ten, "And I never even had a close
call before.
"But I was cutting little
stuff, about this big..."; he
makes a coircle with his hands,
"and all day I had kept my cutting
area clean, throwing the cut piece
CXI the pile every time I sawed one
off—except this time, I didn't.
I left it vhere it fell.
"The tip of my saw hit the
stick on the ground, and — you
may not believe this— I saw; I
mean I cxxald see the teeth on that
chain coming ri^t at ny nose!
"It happened so quick! There
was no time to get away from it,
no way. I dodged to the ri^t,
scx*t of, and instead of sawing my
face opal, it took 2 hours and 35
stitches worth of me here, near my
neck and cxi my shoulder.
"I had a pxxoper grip on the
saw, had my feet planted firmly,
all that stuff. Looking back, the
only thing I can think of that
nri^t have helped would have been
to try standing a little hit to
one side.
"I dcxi't evai have much of a
scar. The worst pain I remember
is vhen they ripped that big wide
piece of tape off my chest. But
the doctor said I was mi^ty lucky
it missed the big vein in my neck
—by about half an inch.
"All I can figure is that God
has something else for me to do.
"If it haipens a^in, I think
I'll throw the saw away fhem ne
tut you never know.
"It sure proves that 'it never
happened befex’e' is no sign it
cian't happen!"
CAN YOU READ THIS?
IF lOU CAN READ THIS, you may
not understand the frustration and
embarassment of the person vho
cannot.
Illiteracy can be as crippling
as physical handicaps; but it need
not be—it's cxxrectable.
If you know an adult vho cannot
read and write, consider telling
them about the progran of the
Thansylvania Uteracy Council.
The Cojncil offers private free
tutcring, scheduled for the
ccxivenience of the learner.
Tutors are trained to make
learning as easy as possible.
IVrenty such instructex’s are
curroitly working in Transylvania
Ccxjnty; others are waiting fer
students. The program is
helpfhi for those vho wish to
i?5grade reading or writing skills.
Call Jeanette Rowan, 885-2813,
for mex’e information. Henderson
Ccxmty residents will find similar
assistance at 693-7482.