Buried under a patch of Draper scrub between the Jordan River and the train tracks is the most significant archaeological site uncovered in the Salt Lake Valley in generations.
So, of course, UTA wants to cover it with a slab of concrete.
That's how we do things here. Every inclination skews toward development. It's why Greg Curtis -- former House Speaker, current lobbyist and self-described "f----- bogeyman" -- can delay conservation of the only known ancient house in the county. His interference gave UTA and lawmakers just enough time to reverse a policy that protected the site for eight years -- before ticky-tacky boxes led to Furniture Row led to TRAX.
It's all in the name of a strip mall, er, excuse me ... a "transit-oriented development," otherwise known as civilization. Draper wants sales tax revenue, the state wants to increase the value of its prison property and UTA wants to make it as convenient as possible for car-loving Utahns to ride the train. So, the 3,000-year-old settlement has to go.
At least, that's been our pattern.
"In the Salt Lake Valley, most of the places where there were significant archaeology sites are already torn up," says State Archaeologist Kevin Jones. "We've already covered them over with buildings and concrete."
Ten years ago, while digging a train trench north of the Delta Center, UTA uncovered another ancient site and a set of bones. The artifacts were sent to a university, the remains to a vault in Emigration Canyon. It was good enough.
Archaeologists say good enough won't work in this case. The site is too critical. They've found two homes, a fire pit, 30,000 artifacts and, most importantly, corn pollen, suggesting ancient natives farmed this valley long before we thought.
"Development is fine and dandy, but this is one case where the importance of the site outweighs the development need," says Jerry Spangler, director of the Colorado Plateau Archaeological Alliance. "It could literally re-write our understanding of the earliest settled people here."
Before a Chili's was on the horizon, state engineers re-charted the path of the Bangerter Highway to avoid the site. Now, lawmakers are poised to change an 8-year-old open space policy, allowing a land swap that guarantees the site will be dug up and dispersed.
In exchange UTA promises to preserve property elsewhere that agency officials claim has equally significant ancient artifacts; archaeologists don't know what they're talking about.
"We're relying on the good will of [the Utah Transit Authority]," said Rep. Janice Fisher, D-West Valley City. "I'm very worried about this process."
Excavating the site correctly, some archaeologists estimate, could cost $3 million.
"There's fast and there's cheap and then there's good," says Jones. "If we must plow one under these days, we at least want to make sure they're not destroying something of importance."
UTA Attorney Bruce Jones says the transit agency will be sensitive. "We will not do anything that will be destructive to ancient Indian artifacts," he says. "If there were no way to preserve the artifacts correctly, we would not build the station."
The governor's Indian Affairs adviser, Forrest Cuch, would rather UTA leave the site alone.
"People need to be respectful of human remains and the people who have gone before them in the same way they would be respectful of their pioneer ancestors," he says. "I'm not comfortable."
State senators and the governor still must sign off on the land swap.
I'm not optimistic. The sure prospect of a Hogi Yogi and a four-story block of budget condominiums will beat the mysteries of the ancient.
Every time.
Rebecca Walsh is a columnist. Reach her at rwalsh@sltrib.com

