LAST IN THE EDITION. "When my children were small, we spent many happy summer days playing in Oak Creek. Sometimes they would find pot shards or arrowheads on the sandy banks. Lying on the flat red rocks, listening to the soothing sounds of Canyon Wrens, splashing water and children's laughter, I often thought of Anasazi mothers and their little ones. They had visited the same creek over 900 years ago, and how, in the family of man, things don?t really change that much."