While working on my Carolina box-pleat I decided that it needed a dedicated kilt pin that carried forward the "Carolina" theme. I've always admired Matt Newsome's dogwood blossom pin (NC's state flower) but didn't want to blatantly copy his fine idea. Taking a page from Ron MacDonald's tendency to merge native American culture and traditional kilts, I came up with this.

Shortly after moving to western North Carolina some 22 years ago I found a pretty decent specimen of local projectile point in a plowed field. The point is a lance or dart point (or perhaps used as a hafted knife), 1.75" long, made of local quartzite, and of the type known as "Savannah River", dating from between 5,000 and 3,000 years before present. That's pre-Cherokee, the native culture that is most closely associated with western North Carolina.



I melted some pewter in my iron dipper and placed the point in the molten metal. After it cooled, I roughed it out on my band saw, then finished it with files, paper, and steel wool. A small dab of epoxy holds the point in the pewter "frame", and was also used to attach two studs to the rear for attaching to the kilt apron.

The end result is a hefty kilt pin that commemorates some of the earliest inhabitants of what would eventually be known as the colony of "Carolina"; a people whose name has been long lost to the memories of men; who were already a distant chapter receding into the history of the Appalachians when Charles II, on the day of his coronation as King of England, donned a plaid garment that was to ultimately inspire the "Carolina Tartan"

Some artifacts are displayed on the walls of museums. Others are destined to lie in dark, quiet drawers. Still others lie in the ground, patiently awaiting their return to the sun. I always think of the hands that crafted these points. Who was the craftsman? What was he thinking and what was he seeing while he flaked and shaped the stone into a functional tool...a work of purposeful art. And the point itself...was it used to secure a meal for the craftsman's family? Was it used in defense of his clan's territory against neighboring bands? How many times was it re-worked to restore it's deadly edge? Or perhaps was it lost before it served it's ultimate purpose?

The answers to these questions lie deep in the fertile loam of the Swannanoa River Valley, their echoes reaching up to us from the past in the form of flakes, chips, fire-cracked hearth stones, unfinished tools, shards of pottery, and the occasional perfect point. It is the points who speak most clearly to me. Perhaps my decades as an archer and bowhunter have led me to a greater understanding, a perceived kinship if you will, with the paleoindian hunters that once stalked these valleys. I, too, see my self-made arrows of wood, feather, and metal as more than mere tools, but as art...as an extension of my own spirit, ultimately manifest in that awful moment when art meets life, and meat roasting over flame closes the circle.

What would the knapper of this point make of it's use as an ornament? Regardless of its ultimate purpose, and despite the intervening centuries lying between us, he and I, one thing is certain. l know that when he finished this point he held it up, inspecting its lines, feeling its edge. Hefting it, gauging its mass, he felt some sense of pride in a job well done. It was an object that represented the zenith of his culture's industry, and he saw that it was good.

Would he appreciate its use as an ornament...as an object of art? I think so.