Dad and a teenage boy were hoeing corn in the 1920s when they heard an airplane approaching. Planes seldom crossed in the sky over our farm in those early days. Hearing the engine, they leaned on their hoes and watched the plane come into sight.

“Now watch,” Dad said, “that fellow will fly into that cloud, go out of sight and come out on the other side.” They watched silently as it did just that. Then the youngster said as the plane came back into sight, “You know, Mr. Meyers, I don’t believe that!”

Like the plane in the cloud, it’s hard to comprehend the fact that fish swam over these hills and dales. Eons ago oceans covered this part of Missouri and left us very hard limestone rock full of those little circular fossils that look like the bones we see in a can of salmon. That water also carried tiny particles of clay that sank when the water slowed and stopped. That’s why we find many plants processing Missouri’s clay and shipping clay products nationwide and beyond.

Early potters were often farmers who made pottery in the off-season, digging clay from their own land. They made bricks to build their kilns and used or sold their stoneware pots locally. A few potteries in this area operated full time with large crews of employees.

Beds of white stoneware clay extend across Boone and a dozen other counties. Where stoneware clay was available, potters made the everyday vessels needed in homes and on farms. Craftsmen of all kinds were important in early American life. The blacksmith, tinner, carpenter, potter and others filled the needs of persons who eked out a living in the wilderness. Potters worked in Hermann, California, Callaway County and many other Central Missouri locations. They discarded tons of broken or warped pieces, and their waster dumps tell a history of pioneer life. A supervised dig is scheduled soon at the Arrow Rock pottery.

Families often passed their skills of “turnin’ and burnin’*” from one generation to the next. Pieces of old churns, jugs, etc., are often plowed up where early potters once worked. A warped canning jar from the early 1800s can bring several hundred dollars at auction if it is stamped or signed by a Caldwell, Gegglin or Cranson.

In 1993, floodwaters washed away the soil and sand and exposed a number of works of Missouri potters. When archaeologists carefully dig and chart their results, their findings extend our knowledge of the rugged lives of our predecessors. Such a dig is scheduled to begin Monday at Arrow Rock, two blocks north of the main street. If you’ve ever wanted a chance to be an archaeologist for a day or week, this is it.

People willing to labor in Missouri’s July heat, give up all the treasures they discover and to pay $20 a day for the privilege may secure application blanks by calling the Missouri Archaeology Society at (573) 882-3544.

I plan to be there working. It’s likely that the Arrow Rock pottery jars and jugs were made of Cheltenham clay, fired in wood kilns and glazed with salt. I’m familiar with that process. Perhaps I’ll find a rare chard with N.G. Caldwell’s signature on it.