Dr. Frank McClanahan wasn't exactly the superstitious type. As a medical missionary in Egypt, he was one of the first men inside King Tutankhamen's tomb following its discovery in 1922. Over several months, he returned five more times to gaze in awe at its golden treasures.

McClanahan served as personal physician of Lord Carnarvon, the British earl who backed the archaeological expedition. The nobleman's untimely demise -- four months after the tomb's discovery -- spawned rumors of a 3,000-year-old curse on those who disturbed the pharaoh's resting place.

Accidents, illnesses and mysterious deaths seemed to befall the archaeological party. A legend spread as newspapers reported the strange tales.

McClanahan didn't set out to disprove the curse of King Tut, but he did it anyway. All he had to do was enjoy a good, long life.

``I think I'm living proof that there is no curse,'' he would say.

The doctor was 92 years old when he passed away Feb. 8, 1979, at Rockynol Presbyterian Home in West Akron.

What wonders he had seen.

McClanahan and his wife, Helen, lived in Egypt from 1915 to 1951 while he served as a medical missionary for the United Presbyterian Church. He established a small hospital in Luxor, a city on the Nile River near the ancient ruins of Thebes.

In addition to caring for Egyptians, the doctor treated British and U.S. archaeologists. One expedition adopted him.

English archaeologist Howard Carter had been digging in the Valley of the Kings for nearly a decade in search of the lost tomb of Tutankhamen, who ruled Egypt from 1336 to 1327 B.C.

Carter persuaded his benefactor, Lord Carnarvon, to bankroll the team for one more year.

``One evening just at dusk, an ordinary workman went up on the side of the mountain,'' McClanahan told the Beacon Journal in a 1972 interview. ``They told him that's where the ordinary people lived and you won't find it there. He was just ignorant enough to dig there.''

The Egyptian laborer's shovel hit stone. He ran to get Carter.

Removing a pile of rubble, the crew cleaned off the first of 16 steps that led down to a concrete door with a royal seal.

``I was called to the Winter Palace Hotel,'' McClanahan said. ``I sensed an atmosphere different in the city than ever before. The Swiss proprietor of the hotel stopped me at the front door and said, `Dr. McClanahan, the greatest archaeological discovery of the century has been made. The tomb of King Tut was discovered last evening at sunset.' ''

Carter sent a telegram to Carnarvon at his English castle: ``At Last Have Made Wonderful Discovery In Valley; A Tomb With Seals Intact; Re-covered Same For Your Arrival; Congratulations.''

It took three weeks for the earl to travel to Egypt in November 1922. He joined Carter at the excavation site as laborers unsealed the first door and dug out the dark passageway. At the far end, they found another sealed door and cut a small hole. Carter peered inside with a candle.

``Lord Carnarvon told me how impatient he became when Carter failed to say a single word,'' McClanahan recalled. ``Moments seemed like hours. Finally he said, `Howard, what do you see?' His reply was, `A room filled with wonderful things.' He had been made speechless by what he saw.''

The flickering candle caught a glint. The outer chamber's precious contents included statues, urns, chests, a chariot and a throne. Gold was everywhere.

``Two black figures representing the king in full size stood guarding the cement door to the inner room,'' said McClanahan, who saw the room two days later. ``Each had a shepherd's crook in one hand and a scepter in the other, each one of solid gold.

``These represented him as ruler of both upper and lower Egypt. In the center of the room stood the pharaoh's throne overlayed in gold, its legs fashioned in feline form surmounted by lion's heads with winged serpents forming the arms of the throne.''

As spectacular as these treasures were, a third sealed door led to a room with the sarcophagus of King Tut's mummy. The seals on the burial chamber weren't broken until Feb. 17, 1923.

McClanahan brought his wife. They were most impressed with a simple bouquet of dried flowers on the pharaoh's effigy.

``He was just a boy to the person who put the flowers there,'' the doctor speculated. ``Perhaps they came from a girl-wife, but I believe they were a symbol of a mother's love.''

The discovery of King Tut's tomb captured the world's interest, and Carter and Carnarvon were hailed for their amazing find. The joy was short-lived.

One night in March, Carnarvon summoned McClanahan to his hotel. He wasn't feeling well.

``He was sitting up in bed,'' the doctor recalled. ``There was a mosquito bite on the side of his forehead. A red streak was running down from it.''

The doctor ordered bed rest and compresses for the infection, but the nobleman refused to alter his busy schedule. He traveled to Cairo, caught pneumonia and died that April.

Newspapers fanned rumors about an ancient curse. When U.S. millionaire George Jay Gould died of pneumonia in May following a visit to Tut's tomb, the hysteria began.

A series of tragic incidents added to the superstition.

Carter's personal secretary Richard Bethell died of heart failure. Bethell's father, Lord Westbury, committed suicide. Lady Carnarvon died on a trip to India. French Egyptologist Georges Benedite died of heatstroke. British Egyptologist Hugh Evelyn-White hanged himself. U.S. archaeologist Arthur Mace died of tuberculosis.

Believers in the curse attributed more than 20 deaths to the discovery of King Tut's tomb. Scientific minds theorized that tomb visitors may have encountered ancient mold or bacteria.

McClanahan insisted that the deaths were a coincidence.

``There were a long line of these people who died,'' he said. ``But there were archaeologists coming and going all the time from all parts of the world. If you took any large crowd of people and checked back later, you would find a certain percentage of deaths among them.''

Howard Carter never believed in the curse. Nearly 17 years after exploring Tut's tomb, he died in 1939 as the world's most famous archaeologist.

Frank and Helen McClanahan left Egypt in 1951 for New Wilmington, Pa., where he served as physician at Westminster College. They later retired to Akron.

The doctor was a popular speaker in 1972 during the 50th anniversary of the tomb's discovery. Eventually, Tut's treasure followed him to the United States. A touring exhibit of artifacts -- including the pharaoh's iconic gold mask -- lured 8 million Americans to seven U.S. museums in the late 1970s.

The exhibit was in New York in 1979 when McClanahan died after a series of strokes.

He was buried at Greenlawn Memorial Park.

Seven years later, his widow joined him. Helen McClanahan was 95 when she died in 1986.

She didn't believe in King Tut's curse either.

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