Wednesday's Child - The Cover-Up



Andover, Maine town common

A while back I suggested that when researching ancestors we can't always rely on the authenticity of unearthed records.  Indeed, recordings of the past in particular were often a result of reports filed by interested parties and little verification was required from the purveyors of the information.  In the course of my search for a family that neither my mother nor I had ever known, I found this to be true.

Mother was born out of wedlock to Myrtie Lena Wyman, an 18-year-old single woman from a small town in the northwest corner of Maine, September 19, 1908, according to her record of birth signed by Frank E. Leslie, M.D.  The certificate noted that there was “no name recorded” for the newborn at the time of birth and no father.

The name Beatrice Wyman was later given, according to adoption records I obtained from the Cumberland County Register of Probate in Portland, Maine.  Her name was changed upon her adoption on June 14, 1909 to Shirley Stanton Maxell, by her new parents, Oscar and Susie Maxell.  They were the only parents she ever knew.

Myrtie, my birth maternal grandmother, came from a very well known, rather large extended family in the town of Andover, population in 1908 of fewer than 900.  Her ancestors were among the little community's earliest settlers.  Given all that, I presumed it would be quite easy to find a record of mother's birth among Town of Andover records of 1908.  I was wrong.  What I found instead was an indisputable cover-up.

In researching lists of births in Andover for that year there was no birth listed to Myrtie Wyman.  But, on page 25 of the Annual Report for the Town of Andover was the recording of a birth to "Mr. and Mrs. Edward A. Martin, Sept. 24, 1908, a daughter".

Now, that might not have stood out to most folks, but the family listed in the report was actually Mr. and Mrs. Edwin A. Martin (not Edward) and they happened to be Myrtie's sister Eva and her husband.  Edwin and Eva did have a daughter, given the same name of Beatrice, but their daughter was born almost 11 months earlier, on Oct. 31, 1907, in Portland, Maine.  There was no child born to a Mr. and Mrs. Edward A. Martin on Sept. 24, 1908, in the town of Andover.

Who was behind the deception?  Myrtie and her newborn didn’t stay in Andover very long after the birth, moving back to Portland where she had previously been living with her two sisters and brother-in-law.  I doubt it was Eva and her husband, though they were probably in on the attempt to hide what at the time would have been frowned upon, probably even an embarrassment to some.

Society wasn’t nearly as tolerant or accepting in the early part of the 20^th Century, so I can understand why the birth of my mother would have been hush hush - translation: covered up.

Serendipity - Graveyard Encounter

There was a persistent, yet light, drizzle as I pulled our car to the side of the road, near the entrance to Woodlawn Cemetery in the quaint northwestern Maine village of Andover.  We'd been doing a lot of what I had come to call cemetery crawling lately, and it seemed as though each time we either brought some degree of rain or there had been enough precipitation just prior to our arrival to sufficiently wet the often untrimmed grass.

We had been on a quest to find long departed relatives, usually with only word-of-mouth guidance from the living; age, unfortunately, can sometimes blur the memory and city or town names aren't always accurate, resulting in false leads and wild goose-chases.  But this one stop in the town that was the birthplace of my departed mother was a sure bet for finding her and my ancestors.

(Note: at another time I'll explain something about birthplaces and records of birth.  It will serve as a word of caution to ancestral researchers.)


Woodlawn Cemetery, Andover, Maine


My wife and I emerged from the car and proceeded toward the main entrance to the fairly large cemetery.  At the entrance were a woman I presumed was maybe my wife's age, and a younger woman, who I later discovered was her daughter.  They had been planting some annuals near the gate and stood and turned in our direction as we approached.

"Can I help you?" the older of the two asked as we got near.

"Well," I began hesitantly, somewhat cautious as to what information I was willing to share, "I'm looking for Wymans and Akers families."

"I'm an Akers," the replied.

Maybe it's just me, but I never expected to find a living relative in a graveyard in a never visited community.  But there we were, distant cousins who had never met.  There is one good reason for that strangeness: mother was adopted and never wanted to pursue her origins; she knew the name of her birth mother, had documentation of the event, identifying not only the mother's name but also the town of Andover as the place.  But that was all that she cared to know.  It wasn't enough for me.

The woman identified herself as Linda, and the younger woman as her daughter, Angie.  Turns out Linda and I are distant cousins.  Her great grandfather and my birth great grandmother were brother and sister, siblings of William I. and Mary Agusta Newton Akers.  My birth great grandmother was both Sara Eleanor Akers, later known as Lena S. Akers.  She married John Bond Wyman, a stonemason from Paris, Maine.

That chance meeting was several years ago, and in the meantime I have found other relatives from my mother's previously unknown heritage, including one family on the Wyman side.  My birth maternal grandmother was Myrtie Lena Wyman, youngest daughter of John and Lena.  She died at the age of 25 from tuberculous.  We found the gravestone of John and Lena, and a stone for their young son, John S.  Myrtie is buried in Woodlawn with her parents and brother, but with no marker.  Her sister Linnie is also there without benefit of a stone or any form of marker.

Linda, Angie and I have been in contact on an infrequent basis ever since the day that started with the chance meeting at the graveyard, and the question: "Can I help you?"