Dreda took her initial college course in Archaeology with State Archaeologist Dr. Douglas Jordan at the University of Connecticut, in the 1970s. Her interest was piqued and evolved beyond the classroom by assisting Doug in the field rescuing sites threatened by economic development. When construction for a major condominium unearthed a series of Adena Culture burials dating to 2,000 years ago in Glastonbury, Dreda volunteered to assist in their recovery before a bulldozer could destroy them. [Dreda's daughter] Lise told me recently that Dreda she had been accepted into the Anthropology department's doctoral program at UConn, something I hadn't known, but was not surprised to hear. Though she was never able to pursue her degree, Dreda had found a lifelong passion.

When the Albert Morgan Archaeological Society formed, Dreda became an active member and soon befriended Dave and June Cooke, among many others. In the 1980s, Dreda excavated at the Morgan Site in Rocky Hill, a 1,000-year-old Native American settlement, probably the largest Indian village of its time in all New England. In the field, Dreda conducted her excavations methodically, meticulously, and painstakingly, with the skill of an engineer working on a blueprint, recording with precise notes and measurements. I met her there prior to my becoming the second State Archaeologist, her head down working in an excavation unit. A decade later, when June Cooke founded the non-profit Friends of the Office of State Archaeology, Inc. (FOSA) in 1997, Dreda not only enlisted as a chartered member, but volunteered immediately to become the group's first treasurer, a time-consuming position she held for over twenty years.

Although her demanding work schedule with investment and paralegal firms no longer permitted her to actively conduct the fieldwork she so loved, Dreda found other diverse ways to contribute to Connecticut archaeology. Using her contacts in the political and legal world, she elicited support for the Office of State Archaeology (OSA) from legislators. For example, she personally escorted Rep. Christopher Caruso, a highly regarded lawmaker in the state's Democratic Party, to travel to UConn and meet personally with us, reviewing the state's archaeological collections and providing us an opportunity to express our budgetary needs to fulfill our mandated cultural resource preservation responsibilities. As a result, Rep. Caruso made clear his support for our office to the university and legislature, and this effort in part led to the development of the Archaeology Center at UConn. Without Dreda that does not happen. Dreda continued to utilize her influential contacts to lobby for archaeological causes and presented cogent arguments for the State of Connecticut to support the preservation of archaeological sites.

In her role as FOSA Treasurer, Dreda oversaw the organization's financial commitment to the Office of State Archaeology, whose state appropriation at that time was a mere $6,000 annually, a budget far below its needs to fulfill its legislative obligations. When the technology of cell phones first became available, Dreda recognized that this would be an important tool for the state archaeologist in communicating with town officials, developers, and the public, especially since we were on the road so often. She supported the allocation of funds within FOSA's Board of Directors when the state's OSA budget did not allow for such an expenditure. This, of course, was a time when those early cell phones were just that, a phone - not a camera, radio, video, GPS, provider of internet access and all the other unimaginable roles they play in our lives today.

So, every month, after Dreada retired, I would visit at her home on Terry Street in East Hartford and deliver the phone bill to her as FOSA Treasurer. The visits would always start with the dog barking upon my arrival. Opening the front door, Dreda would hand me a treat to give the dog with my command to "Sit!" Obviously, at that point, I was fully accepted into the house. Dreda loved her dogs, caring and training them properly. They provided great companionship and security.

We used the opportunity to spend time together. I would catch her up on the latest archaeological projects in the state. She would offer advice. We reminisced about the "old days" when she was active in the field and our many friends who had sadly passed. And I would watch her, standing at her secretary, meticulously recording the phone bill's entry into her treasurer's ledger in a beautiful, precise, and envious penmanship. She did not use a computer to compile her account book, there was no texting, no emails, only exacting, longhand, and that's how she presented her Treasurer's report - handwritten even in the day of personal computers! And in some striking manner that made her reports so singular. It was as if your aunt had taken the time to hand sew a Christmas sweater for you instead of pulling one off the rack in a department store. Her reports were personal, intimate; not detached, not typed out by a printer on commands from a processor. You could feel Dreda's commitment and dedication to the financial detail in her calligraphy. She always took the time to do it legibly and perfectly!

In retirement, Dreda also volunteered her talents to East Hartford's Raymond Library where she helped organize their book collections. I recollect listening to her reviews of the latest volume she was reading. Dreda would edit in the manuscripts' margins, even if she didn't own the book! There, she had neatly written her comments/criticisms in pencil. I always imagined someone later borrowing that book from the library and wondering who was composing the comments in the margins, but also, I am sure, recognizing the appropriateness of the remarks. She was a stickler for proper grammar and coherent written language. As a result, I sometimes dreaded to show Dreda my own writing! But I confess, her reviews of my work undoubtedly improved the quality of our official and unofficial reports.

Throughout our history and many visits, Dreda and I developed a longtime, lasting friendship. And we could talk to each other as close companions, which meant she would not hold back if she had a concern about how certain issues were being conducted. She was adamant at times, and most always correct in her feelings. She was devoted and enthusiastic. We laughed often. Her honesty was unmistakable in every discussion. We embraced after every visit, and she would stand silently at the front door waving as I drove away.

Once I retired and started spending more time with my family in California, our monthly meetings were no longer feasible, but we stayed in communication through regular phone calls and the occasional visit. When Dreda's health declined, the calls and visits unfortunately became less frequent. But fond memories of our times spent together remain.

In California, my kids have three dogs, and it is impossible for me to give one of them a treat and command "Sit!", without my thinking of Dreda. We miss her.

Nick Bellantoni
CT State Archaeologist Emeritus