Many Oklahomans Are Leaving No State Stone Unturned

Deep in the red earth, the petals of a rose rock poke through a clump of Oklahoma sandstone.

Tom Redwine uses a butter knife to cut the little formation out of a hole in the ground. He crumbles it between the fingers of his leather gloves. The grit falls away, exposing a rock that looks remarkably like a rose.

“Mama nature does good,” he says with visible satisfaction.

The rose rock is a source of pride to the state of Oklahoma, which named it the official state rock in 1968. To some, it is also a paycheck. But despite its popularity, the rose rock is something of an enigma; not much is known about its origins or how it is formed.

Local residents scour lake shores in Norman to find the crimson stones for their gardens and window shelves. Tourists pick them up at museums, gift shops and convenience stores. Sometimes, they go hunting for them in Noble--the so-called Rose Rock Capital.

Rose rocks are composed of barium and sulfate--barite, which crystallizes in blades. Many scientists believe the rocks were formed 250 million years ago as water moved through sandstone about the same time as the deposit of the Garber Formation--a central Oklahoma sandstone configuration.

Some geologists believe rose rocks might still be forming.

Although a lighter, coral-colored version of the rose rock can be found in places such as Texas, California and Egypt, there is no explanation for why the crimson rocks are common only in Oklahoma.

An oft-quoted legend says Oklahoma is ripe with rose rocks because the state was the end of the Trail of Tears, the 1,000-mile trek made by Indians forced to their new home. As the legend goes, God made the blood of the braves and the tears of the maidens turn to stone upon falling to the ground.

The legend is printed on the packaging of rose rock earrings, necklaces and refrigerator magnets, but American Indians say the legend is not theirs.

“It’s a rape of a heritage and of a culture just to make a buck,” said Choogie Kingfisher, who works at the Cherokee Nation’s cultural center in Tahlequah.

Redwine, who digs in a secret location near Slaughterville, has his own way of extolling the virtues of rose rocks.

“There are thousands of diamonds in this world for every rose rock,” he said. “If everyone in this state of Oklahoma wanted one, there wouldn’t be enough to go around.”

Small, individual rose rocks are sold for about $3.

Redwine uncovered the largest rose rock cluster found to date--a 788-pound clump he named “Redwine and Roses.” He chose not to donate it to the Rose Rock Museum in nearby Noble, and instead sold it to a Love’s convenience store for $8,000.

“I wanted to make some money, and I wanted it someplace where it could be seen,” he said.

Redwine, who sells packages of red dirt that once covered his rose rocks, has been digging for more than a decade. He says rose rocks run in veins. A few square feet of sandstone contains thousands, then there are none for miles.

He uses simple tools: a butter knife and a three-pronged garden hoe so as not to scratch or break any rose petals.

The museum’s owners, Joe and Nancy Stine, lease the same land for digging as Tom and Ann Redwine. The Stines’ lives seem to revolve around the crystallized barite: They design jewelry from the rocks and carve small sculptures of trees and rosebushes, using the rocks as centerpieces.

Nancy Stine also spends her days at the tiny museum, teaching visitors about rose rocks and tidying up the shelves of red dirt T-shirts and American Indian Art. Her love for the rocks came from her mother, who as a child maintained a forgotten Indian grave decorated with them.

The Stines have even written a book, “The Rose Rock of Oklahoma,” published by Timberlake Press. And in 1977, nine years after the Legislature paid homage to the rock, Nancy Stine wrote an ode to the rose rock.

“Within the Garber sandstone, a barite crystal grew. The Oklahoma sand gave it a reddish hue. Seawater bathed it; and, as a flower grows, God formed its shape into a lovely rose.”