Site 89A
Stolen Dinosaurs and Broken Teeth
Nonfiction / copyright Jon Kramer 11-10-19 / 1,888 words

I searched in vain for hours, until the fading daylight forced me back to camp. The next day I returned with gritty resolve – shovels, sieves, and several field assistants – determined to excavate the ancient burial ground to find it. But after many sweat-toiling hours, I had to admit the prize dinosaur tooth was gone for good, undoubtedly washed into the infinity of sediments carried away by the river. Knowing it was there – somewhere! – could not help the fact I never found it.

The disappointment was made all the more unfair by the lack of any other significant discoveries at Site 89A. Apparently, the single plate-size hunk of rock I had found on the eroding slope several days earlier – rich as it was with all manner of bones, teeth, and fossilized tendon – was the only evidence left of the ancient catastrophe that trapped these artifacts here 65 million years ago. The shiny, long, Albertosaurus tooth poking out the side of the matrix plate was the bonus cherry atop an impressive specimen – or rather would have been, had not its upper half been broken clear away and the top lost – forever! When hunting dinosaurs in the desert these things happen.

Some days before, Hal and I had been out on field reconnaissance of the region along the washes and buttes of the Marchant Ranch, north of Lance Creek, Wyoming. It was early summer and, as was our custom, we and the other members of Potomac Museum Group (PMG) spent the first several days of the field season prospecting for new fossil sites in the region. Whenever we located a new spot worth further investigation, we labeled it on the topo sheets according to the year and sequence. Thus, Site 89A was the first such mark on our map of area dinosaur sites found in 1989.

It had been a fruitless day, when about 11am, we came around the bend and were intrigued by an outcropping of channel sandstone poking out of the hillside. We knew from experience these places sometimes held fossiliferous promises. Sure enough, my first glimpse at the base of the hoodoo produced immediate results in the way of a matrix piece laden with a variety of bones, tendon, scales, and teeth all wrapped together in a nice tidy sandstone package about 14 inches in diameter. The only blemish was the Albertosaurus tooth. It had recently broken at the base of its crown and the upper part was gone. Undoubtedly the damage had occurred when the matrix fell from the upper exposure and rolled down the slope. There was but little question that the rest of the tooth was in the surrounding sea of sediments – somewhere – but I never found it.

The season nonetheless proved rich and fruitful. Throughout the sizzling summer – with temps commonly topping 110 degrees – we gently removed the sands and clays entombing the bodies of many dinosaurs at our main site “The Point”. We excavated several partial skeletons of Edmontosaurus and Triceratops as well as a host of other dinosaurian and fossil treats. Dozens of field jackets were plastered and loaded into the trailer for the trip back to our lab in Robbinsdale, Minnesota. In total we brought back some 3 tons of bone-rich matrix, a respectable amount by any paleontological measure.

Closing field camp takes a few days and the blistering heat makes it all the more challenging. When, finally, the crew was ready to head home, we were worn out by the weather and the work. The return drive to Minneapolis takes about 15 hours and this particular time we decided to make it in one long shot, stopping only for a cool swim in the Missouri River along the way. When we finally pulled into Minneapolis, it was 2am and we had not the strength, nor desire, to unload the trailer in the middle of the night. Despite the rough neighborhood around the old Robbinsdale High School in which the PMG Paleo Lab was located, we figured the trailer would be left alone. After all it was full of plaster jackets – not the kind of merchandise on sale at the American Pawn across the street. We disconnected the trailer and left it parked at the Lab entrance.

The next day, as agreed, we reassembled at the Lab at 3pm. When I arrived, I noticed the trailer had already been moved. Between field trips we kept it chained in the lot out back. I smiled to myself: Good Old Hal – always going the extra mile! He had obviously unloaded it before I got there – even though I was on time! – and had moved it around back.

When I got into the building, Hal came around the corner saying– Hey Man, thanks a lot, but why didn’t you wait for me to help you with the trailer!? I was confused by this but before I could answer he was asking me what storeroom I had put the bone jackets in. At the time we had several large storage rooms where we kept fossils awaiting preparation in the lab. Hal was obviously under the impression I had already taken care of the trailer. But when I told him I had just gotten there too, it dawned on both of us the trailer had been stolen – and all the dinosaur bones with it!

We panicked and ran around the building looking for any signs of the trailer or evidence of its theft. There were thousands of hours of hard work in that trailer! Even more, it was thousands of pounds of important specimens. We talked anxiously with the school staff and found out the trailer was not there by 7am when the custodian arrived. It had disappeared sometime between 2am and 7am. My heart sank when I realized the trailer was gone, and with it all our specimens. An entire field season with the full PMG staff and we had not one field jacket to show for it! It was overwhelmingly depressing.

We called the cops. But they seemed more interested in the novelty of the theft than actually dispatching anyone out to the scene of the crime. It’s a weekend after all, the dispatcher informed me, as if that was an excuse not to investigate. Oh, so to Protect and Serve is only valid during the week?, I asked incredulous. Unfortunately, someone forgot to alert the thieves that it’s a weekend and they should take a holiday!…

Now we were really pissed! Based on the lackadaisical police response, Wendy – a long-time lab and field tech – devised a great idea. She suggested we embrace the novelty of the situation and notify the media. Since this sort of robbery is not an everyday occurrence – at least not in Minneapolis! – it might be worth a story. That proved genius – not two hours later the Lab was swarming with TV, radio, and newspaper reporters. It became headline news: Dinosaur Bones Stolen From Local Geology Lab!

The next day was Sunday. Early that morning we got a call from a pastor at a church about 5 miles away. There was a trailer in her back lot that looked like the one on the news. It was shoved up into the trees. When we got to the scene, we found most of the plaster jackets strewn on the ground. They’d been thrown out hastily but appeared relatively intact. Apparently, the thieves had wanted the trailer, not the contents, and had attempted to dump the bones. But one giant plaster jacket, almost a ton in weight, had become wedged so tight between the trailer frame that the villains could not get it loose. So they’d abandoned the effort and fled.

We recovered everything. Upon inventory, every plaster jacket was accounted for. Our spirits were buoyed up and our season of effort was restored. We thanked the pastor profusely and later that week sent the church a donation. The news carried on for the next two weeks. First the story of the theft, and then that of the recovery. One of the stations aired an in-depth interview the following week, following Hal around the lab as he opened some of the jackets to show off the bones we had recovered – twice! Our small company was none the worse for all the media attention focused on Potomac Museum Group. Kent, our lab manager, observed, We should get the trailer stolen every year!

Hal had an ancient, orange, VW Rabbit he called Old Rust Bucket which he used to get around town – when it ran. Sometimes we’d carpool to schools for educational talks, riding together in this contraption with bones and fossils crammed in the back seats and smoke exhaust wafting in from the holes in the floorboards and trunk. You had to keep the windows down or you’d end up at the appointment dead from exhaust fumes.

Both Hal and I always carry mementos of our adventures in our vehicles – an assortment of little rocks and fossils on the dashboard and console of our rides. Some people have fuzzy dice, we have brachiopods. These small talismans are smile machines – they’re vivid reminders of our varied adventures and we’d regale passengers with tall tales of their discovery.

One day in the winter of 89-90, as I rode with Hal in the Old Rust Bucket to a school talk, we were discussing the upcoming dinosaur excavation season. I was picking through his dashboard of fossils examining pieces trilobites and dinosaur tendons amongst other treasures from our excavations. A particularly interesting piece caught my eye: it was a tooth – likely from a tyrannosaurid – and it had an interesting wear pattern on the side. Such patterning is not necessarily rare, but this was from a large tooth with a lot of wear indicating it was from an old animal. It was an unusual specimen, or rather it might have been, had it been complete.

As I studied it, I asked Hal how he’d come upon it. I was out for one last stroll the evening before we left camp last season. I was a few miles out when darkness fell, so I headed back to camp with my flashlight. In the darkness a flash glinted off something shiny and, come to find out, it was that tooth.

Where was that? I inquired, already knowing the answer.

Down the wash from 89A… Too bad the root is missing…

And by now you know the rest of the story: It turned out to be the lost crown from the tooth I had been searching for all those many months ago. When we got back to the Lab, I took the piece and fit it perfectly atop the broken tooth on the matrix. Now the piece was complete and the story even more so.

Ever after, when visitors to the Lab admired the piece, Hal and I would joke about who actually found it. Pointing at the prominent tooth, he claimed it as his discovery. This is the Prize of 89A!, he’d say, I found that tooth! – Jon just happened to find the piece of matrix it came out of….

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