Simon stopped digging and leaned the spade against a tree. Opening the small wooden box again, he untied the silk scarf. Inside, his grandmother's grandmother's mother's brooch, ring, and bracelet sparkled hesitantly in the moonlight.

Her son - Simon's grandfather's grandfather's father - had been among the "founders" of the debtor's prison that would later be known as the state of Georgia. Any one of the pieces in the box would have paid off the debt that sent him to the new world, but his mother had refused.

"Owe no one anything except the debt of love," she had chided - more out of selfishness that faithfulness.

That jewelry and that story had been passed down, and eventually, the box became his when his mother died when he was 3. These would be the the only heirlooms the family would ever own.

Five minutes later, the box was clasped and locked and buried under 3 feet of dirt. Five years later, Simon also lay forgotten underground in his own wooden box. When the world was swept into what would be called "The Great War," Simon took the train to Montgomery, Alabama. After training at Camp Sheridan, his regiment was sent to Belgium, where he was killed by a bullet through his left eye.

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