My father, Cecil Atkins Broach, was the oldest son of seven children. He was born in 1901 and recently died at the age of 93 1/2. He had a love of his ancestors and was able to give me information back into the 1700's on his Broach line.

I discovered from my father that one of his favorite aunts, Dr. Elizabeth Lightfoot Broach, had also done genealogy on the Broach family.

Aunt Doc, as she was called, had never married and spent much of her time doing genealogy. She and her father were osteopathic doctors in Atlanta, Georgia. She died in 1951. I wondered about all her genealogy research and who had it.

I grilled my father about where her papers could possibly be. He finally old me about two cousins in Arkansas: they were unmarried sisters who lived together. The younger one was about 85 and the older one was 90.

Daddy urged me to call the cousins. After about 15 minutes of explaining who I was, I asked if they knew where Aunt Doc's genealogy papers were. They said no. They did, however, have her antique carriage trunk that was made for Aunt Doc's great-grandfather, Harry Lightfoot, of Virginia.

They told me she had sent it to them by Greyhound bus from Atlanta, Georgia. They had had the trunk for at least 39 years, and never opened it . I asked them if they would please open it and send me any genealogy research papers. I received an envelope the following week; it was full of old letters and genealogy on my Broach line.

Several years passed and one of the cousins died. Her sister then gave me Aunt Doc's trunk. Then came the real discovery of this "Treasure Chest."

It held artifacts from five to six generations. There were old books belonging to my great-great- grandparents; a full suit of my great-grandfather's; and baby shoes of a great uncle who died at age four.

There were also water colors that my aunt had painted of her parents, and one of her brother. There were two tin boxes containing old letters and papers. One was from my great-great-grandmother during the Civil War. There was a letter which contained words to a song written by a relative while he was in the Civil War.

Further treasures included lace tatted collars and other hand pieced work, my great-grandparents coffee cups with saucers, my great- grandfather's "puncture kit" (hypodermic needle) from his practice, an 1879 "Lady of Godey" ladies magazine and an earlier children's magazine. There was an album full of photos.

There was a shuttle from my great-grandmother's loom, old coins from the 1800's, eye glasses from a great-great-grandmother, dried roses picked the day my great grandfather asked my great grandmother to marry him (1866), a cherished letter written about the first time Aunt Elizabeth saw my father (he was only a year old), a letter written by my grandfather to his children around Christmas time, and some original William and Mary Quarterly's.

And the list goes on but the most surprising thing was in the bottom of the trunk. There, I found two notebooks full of Aunt Doc's genealogy notes and charts. I thought I had been given all of it years earlier, in 1989.

There in front of my eyes was her "life's search." Letters from relatives that she had saved, and birth certificates for herself and her sister. Even their wills were included, along with a letter explaining to her descendants what the "Treasure Chest" was and meant to her and to whom it had belonged.

She was showing her love for all those who had gone before her by keeping this beloved "Treasure Chest." She didn't want her life or her ancestor's to be forgotten.