NEWTON'S LAW: EDGAR VIEW ON INDIAN EXHIBIT IS A LESSON IN GOOD MANNERS

The sound you hear in Springfield, Ill., where the Great Plains commence and the Great Emancipator once held forth, is the gentle pitch of civility whirring into motion.

Gov. Jim Edgar is the hero in this version of "Dances With Controversy." In a state where the Illini are discussed each autumn weekend and the Kaskaskia flows, political correctness (the Native American variety) has led to some general correctness.

At first blush, this would seem one of countless squabbles where some group is offended and summons the media to explain the hurt feelings. If you are not of the group offended, you might glance at the headline, note the insult and move on to relevant topics.

It is more than that. Indian rights groups have for some time been offended by a display at the Dickson Mounds State Museum not far from Peoria. The mortuary exhibit features the skeletal remains of 234 Indians exposed in their excavated burial ground, along with unearthed pots, weapons and other funerary objects.

Without discounting the nuances of this dispute, the argument boils down to this: for archaeologists, the site is a treasure chest; for Indians, it is great-grandmother's grave.

The controversy is not unique to Illinois, nor is it one with a recent origin. In claiming such displays desecrate the burial sites of their ancestors, Indians have been successful in closing all but two such exhibits in the country.

Officials at the Dickson museum were more than willing to reduce that number to one, but Gov. James Thompson supported its historical and educational significance, insisting that it remain open. The new governor, Edgar, is willing to bend.

Since America once belonged to Indians, and since their preference in burial facilities was fairly visible, it is not surprising that there are plenty of mounds around to satisfy the white man's curiosity.

And in most cases they are regarded carelessly by white society as curiosities. From my youth, there were just a couple of occasions to think of such things.

There was a whites-only cemetery in New Madrid County, not far from where I lived; in those days and in that locale, blacks were segregated into the hereafter. Rising above the cemetery was a small, steep hill that stood out in the flatlands.

I went there on Memorial Day with my Cub Scout pack to put flags on graves. A Boy Scout, who was causing more mischief than providing supervision, instructed us that the hill as actually an Indian burial ground, and that he had found an arrowhead there one time.

The Cub Scouts dispersed the flags hurriedly and then charged up the slope to poke around. It may only have been a geological anomaly. There were no arrowheads.

My family often spent weekends at a cabin on Kentucky Lake. On each trip, I questioned my father about a venture on a steep hillside in Wickliffe called Ancient Buried City.

With a succinctness that was his nature, my father responded, "It's just old Indian bones." Needless to say, we never stopped to verify his assessment.

When I was in third grade, my class took a field trip to Ancient Buried City. It was a complex of buildings, the neatest of which contained a display of minerals, which, when the lights were doused, glowed in the dark.

The last building on the tour was simply the shell of a structure that protected a floor of dirt. Spread around that dirt were, as my father promised, old Indian bones. I bought an Ancient Buried City pencil at the gift shop afterwards.

With deference to Gov. Thompson, I didn't feel my education was greatly enhanced.

I understand the arguments here. I know that in cases of purported insensitivity, groups like the United Indian Nations might come out of the woodwork to cast their lot for the oppressed ... and, of course, a bit of airtime.

But there is a matter of manners here. Look at it this way: given the changing demographics of the United States, whites will not be the prevailing American race a century from now.

In 2091, I don't care to have the Garden of Memories excavated and my bones exposed for the edification of school children who are studying how white culture laid its dead to rest.

Let the Indians re-inter their ancestors from Dickson Mounds. If the display exists for education, let's teach a real lesson. If any case has been made, it has been for cremation.