ROGER AND HIS HOUSE
Part one of this story ended when on the spur of the moment I decided to turn around and return to Hebron to look for the man named Roger who knew about the history and genealogy of the area.
Retracing our steps we returned to the little road
called Back Street as we looked for the house where Roger lived. Once again we passed the
red ranch house, the old cemetery and drove on until we found Roger’s house. It
was a charming country place with a sunken garden in the space that had once been the
cellar hole for an old house long gone. In the yard was a hand pump on top of an old well.
This is the country house Roger built on the site of an old farm. He stayed here in the summer only. |
On his mailbox it said Shepardsfield. I wondered why it would say that on Roger's mailbox. I already knew where
Shepardsfield was. Shepardsfield was the name of the rural neighborhood where my grandmother, Myra, and my father had lived in the Richmond house built in 1798 by our ancestors, I knew Shepardsfield was about four miles distant. Why would it say Shepardsfield on Roger's mailbox? This neighborhood was not Shepardsfield. Maybe he simply called his house Shepardsfield. I thought that a bit odd. I was mulling that over as I approached his door.
A handsome elderly man opened the door. My exhausted sister remained in the car. It had been a very long day and I guess she thought this was a “wild goose
chase" if ever there was one. This attractive elderly man quickly confirmed that the red ranch was indeed the Bryant homestead.
I couldn’t resist asking him why it said Shepardsfield on his
mailbox. It took a moment for me to
absorb his answer. “I always liked the
name." said Roger. "That was where Cousin Myra
lived.”
" Cousin Myra!Myra
who?”, I asked? "Cousin Myra Paine”,
said this gentleman..
“I’mMyra ’s granddaughter.” I managed to stammer. Now it was his turn to be
momentarily stunned!.
" Cousin Myra!
“I’m
Cousin Roger at the age of ninety, a distinguished gentleman |
He told us this story.
He grew up in Chevy Chase,
Maryland . His father worked for the Bureau of Standards in Washington . Each summer they returned to Maine by car, stopping both going and coming for a brief stay with my grandmother, Myra, in Massacusetts before proceeding on to Maine and on the return trip to Maryland . Roger’s grandmother, Amanda, who always lived
and traveled with them, and my grandmother, Myra , were very close first cousins. Roger knew my parents! He had been in my house! His mother and my father were second
cousins. He and I were third cousins. My brain was having a hard time processing this sudden turn of events.
Cousins Amanda Pratt Merrill (L) and Almira Bryant Paine (R) in front of Myra's pillared house on a visit with Myra on their way to Maine . |
The surprises didn’t end there even though our visit was
very brief. He was off to have dinner
with yet other unknown cousins of ours in Lewiston. My
head was bursting. But the best was yet to come.
“I have something you’ve never seen,” said Roger as he scooted back into the house
returning with two oval gold frames; portraits of my great great grandparents,
Desire Richmond and Zebulon Bryant, the couple whose house we had been searching. These ancestors were born in Massachusetts shortly after the
Revolutionary War but, incredibly, they had lived long enough to have had their pictures taken. How lucky could we be?
Desire Richmond Bryant 1784-1856 |
In the ensuing weeks Roger sent me photocopies of these portraits along with the picture of his grandmother with my grandmother. They are not great copies but
they are beautiful in my eyes. Prim little Desire Bryant and kindly looking Zebulon stare out at me every day from their antique oval walnut frames hanging on my wall. How could I
ever have imagined that there were actual extant pictures of these ancestors, born so terribly long ago, or that I
would ever find them in the hands of a complete stranger on a back road in Maine at dusk?
Such are the rare coincidences or lucky breaks that seem to happen in the pursuit of ancestors and old houses.
Such are the rare coincidences or lucky breaks that seem to happen in the pursuit of ancestors and old houses.
What a great great story! Please hurry and write the next part as I am really enjoying your posts. When I read the name Paine I became excited because I have Paine ancestors... but alas, yours are from Mass. and probably are the Mayflower line and mine were Quaker coming to the colonies later in the 1600's settling in Jersey. How very lucky you are to have such early photos.
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