An antique jeweler in the heart of Thessaloniki, Dimiourgiko Vildiridis, had a cushion-cut diamond ring in the window. I wasn't exactly in the market for engagement rings, but this one was too good to pass up. I was looking to replicate the size and brilliance of a ring Ashley had on her left hand, and this one spoke to me. Ironically, we had been talking about rings earlier that day over lunch, and this one caught my eye. I thought, "This ring, in this place, with this trip, and this type of history," I might never have the opportunity again. Getting it through customs without blowing the secret was a whole other story.

We had no idea how much history one ring could hold.

The ring features an antique cushion-cut stone set in a modern setting. The band resembles a piece of Yurman jewelry, which Ashley is a huge fan of. When we took the ring to the jeweler here in Gainesville for post-engagement adjustments, the jeweler looked excited and confused. He first asked where I got the ring, and then he told me the story behind it. I told him the Thessaloniki story, and he nodded. He stated that this ring was made in the late 1800s to the pre-1920s because the cuts were designed to be brilliant in low light, such as candlelight or sunsets. This diamond pre-dated electricity in homes and was cut to maximize natural light.

This was then confirmed when one of our MBA students, who is a jeweler himself, reiterated the dates and claimed that this ring had seen some history. He said we had found some families' "fortune".

Because it was purchased in Thessaloniki, it did not necessarily mean it was from Greece. This city sat strategically on the road connecting Western Europe to the Ottoman Empire, so the diamond endured geopolitical strife and ended up in this little shop. If only this ring could talk...