When the dust settled and the workers were cleared from the fields, Arizona Game and Fish hired Northland Research, a Tempe-based team of archaeological and environmental consultants, to assess the damage and establish detailed records of the area.
Northland's 58-page report, published in April, reveals grim details about the activity around Amity Pueblo.
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"Tens of thousands of artifacts were visible on the surface, [including] ceramics, flaked stone, shell, and faunal bone," according to the Northland report. "Human bone was also visible on the surface throughout all of the disturbed areas."
Inspection of just the surfaces of the dirt piles on the construction site "revealed . . . hundreds to thousands of artifacts, as well as numerous fragments of human bone."
The report went on: "It is clear that many additional artifacts and bones are located within these piles."
The Northland archaeologists focused on larger pieces of human bone and documented 46 pieces representing prehistoric burials in shallow graves from at least three individuals, perhaps four. They also located at least six other potential graves in the disturbed area.
While some skeletons were mostly intact, others were "more heavily disturbed and, in fact, may have been entirely removed from their original burial locations and redeposited" during excavation.
"There is a strong likelihood that more than these 10 burials" have been disturbed.
It's hardly Arizona's prescription for how to deal with human remains.
Todd Pitezel, the State Museum's assistant curator of archaeology, says the law requires that human remains be treated with dignity and respect.
"In my opinion, they're not being treated with dignity and respect [in this situation]," he says. "This is a spiritual matter for [the tribes]. It's pretty disturbing. And we're just sitting here."
Had state and federal laws been followed, the incident at Amity Pueblo never would have happened, says Pitezel, who handles repatriation of human remains for the museum.
"They didn't follow the laws, and now it's a disaster," he says.
He says there isn't much his office can do.
"According to the federal process, [U.S.] Fish and Wildlife Services is obligated to respond to the tribal letters and their wishes," he says. "And that's what we're waiting on. Whether they do something, it remains to be seen."
Kurt Dongoske, principal investigator and preservation officer for the Zuni, says his impression is that state and federal government representatives are "hoping, if the tribes don't make any more waves, this will go away . . . and they won't have to spend a dime."
Federal officials sent a letter on September 14 to the Zuni and the other tribes involved, asking for input on a work plan that Governor Quetawki would denounce just a few weeks later. He hasn't heard from them since.
"Their proposed fix is not to our standards," he tells New Times. "Deal appropriately with this, that's what we're asking . . . The damage has already been done. Now, how can we work together to fix it?"
Charna Lefton, spokeswoman for Fish and Wildlife, says the federal agency isn't to blame for all the time that has elapsed. She says the discovery of the human remains and artifacts happened in May 2011 but that Fish and Wildlife was "only notified" last April — nearly a year later.
However, a timeline created by her own agency contradicts Lefton's claim:
"August 18, 2011. FWS received an e-mail update from [Arizona Game and Fish.] This update stated that archaeologist issues had been resolved. [We] were unaware that archaeological issues existed prior to . . . receipt of this e-mail."
If federal Fish and Wildlife received an "update" in August 2011, it stands to reason that some other notification was made before that.
When pressed about the discrepancy, Stephen Robertson, chief of the program under Fish and Wildlife that issued Arizona the grant for the pond, says his office "had no idea of the nature or extent of those issues, and we believed that they were minor in nature and had been resolved."
He says it wasn't until April that he "became aware of the gravity and extent of the disturbance."
Howard says her agency — the State Historic Preservation Office — believes it's "long past time for finger-pointing and blame-shifting to have ended in this process. It is our opinion that continuing down this road can only delay the process and further antagonize those who are involved."
Pitezel agrees that the internal bickering "among parties as to proper federal procedure is delaying tribal requests that the disturbed human remains be dealt with immediately."
Some Zuni talk about lawsuits. Quetawki talks about hosting a "sacred sites summit" with state and federal officials about consulting with tribes on the front end, instead of further straining relationships by waiting until damage is done.
"We want to stress that those agencies who have these types of projects work with tribes," Quetawki says. "Unfortunately, the mentality is, 'We can put them aside and move on.'"
But if history is any indication, the Zuni can stand the test of time.
"We are Zuni. We do not disappear. We are still here," says medicine man Cornell Tsalate. "The [state and U.S. agencies] make and break their own rules. It's a shame . . . they think they have a right to do that, but in reality, they will have to suffer the consequences."
In a matter-of-fact tone, he warns, "In our way, if you do something wrong, the spirits might not be after you, but they will come to your family, your relatives, the people you love the most, and make it even."
