The Kenneth Maynard Story

To a Tiny Tot

When I find myself at peace having revised and edited; hopefully, for the last time, a story I can now tag with “The End” I sit back and wonder what’s next? And, I always draw a blank. Crickets. The Voices In My Head remain subdued and for a while a highly cherished calm replaces the noise. Perhaps now is the time to return to an on-line class, or should I spend more time competing in Texas Hold’em tournaments, or return to organizing photos for the family? Reviewing a stash of newspaper clippings that a long gone relative collected and somehow, were passed on for my review and organizational touch, it is here I often find a new story to tell.

Then without warning at 1 a.m., I wake to the noise. Pieces of information gathered over recent days connect and a motion picture forms needing to be previewed, occasionally rewinding as it plays, self-edits and replays. I close my eyes and doze when at 3 a.m. The Voices In My Head rudely inform me it is time to get up and get busy.

The story is not like the others; about me, my life, my relationships. It is about another. It is a story about a short life, reality, it is one I cannot shake free from, sad but true.

Somewhere when I was between the ages of eight and eleven, my family gathered together early on several Saturday mornings, loaded into our automobile, and headed off for a day trip across the border into Pennsylvania. It seemed that my parents had become interested in the Maynard’s family tree, relatives, aunts and uncles, cousins, whether alive or not.

We visited dozens of small communities and townships nestled along the New York State and Pennsylvania border. We would stop at any side-of-the-road cemetery we might encounter. As a matter of fact, we were hunting for cemeteries. Some we found well maintained, others needed attention; and, when we found one, we stopped, got out, and wandered about looking for headstones that included the name “Maynard.”

It’s 1975, and my wife and I were first-time parents; and, speaking for myself, I was clueless. I had seen pictures of babies in catalogs and a few real babies in nature, but I had never held an infant, never. Tommy was seven months old, and I was still an apprentice. The sun was going down and for some reason he started to whimper. Then cry. Then cry, a lot. Paused for a period of time and having rested, cried again. Not the “I am hungry” cry or the “I have colic” cry, rather something is not right cry - so figure it out! We walked him, we patted, we rocked, we drove around the block, yes with him, anyway his cries only became more severe. Then the vomit, not the normal vomit, rather projectile vomit.

Defcon 1.

Our concern and confusion befuddled us. It was the middle of the night. We cleaned up then and headed for the emergency room at Tucson Medical Center (TMC). The nurses and doctors gathered around him, prodded and poked, collected data and conferred. Finally, carted him off still crying nonstop to an exam room while we were placed in a waiting area. With no one there, just the two of us. Two novice parents, too young to know how to handle this present threat.

Defcon 2.

I cannot state how long he was in the exam room and I cannot claim to know what they were doing but I do know he never stopped crying and screaming and my stress level was escalating and anxiety building. I do know the sun was now peeking through a window.

Defcon 3.

It seemed like forever, the crying continued non-stop. How could one tiny bundle cry without pause? I was exhausted, when finally, the doctor appeared. The doctor’s lips were moving, and sounds drifted out as he explained what they had attempted but all I heard was the word “surgery.”

Defcon 4.

It felt as if someone had punched me in the stomach. Did I break him? Surgery on a baby? Papers to sign. My breathing felt constricted. Trying to appear brave on the outside while freaking out on the inside is draining!

Defcon 5.

I needed to take a walk. Quickly, I found a hallway, saw the exit door, and stuffed my feelings, floated between irritation and fatigue, headed toward the sun. Stepped outside. Leaned on the building.

Release.

Walking back inside I ran into Dr. Zee, a pediatrician that Norma worked for, I did my best to look brave, but I am sure he saw through my bravado and ensured me the surgical staff would take good care of Tommy.

Upon returning to the waiting room the doctor reappeared and explained he was treated for an intussusception, a condition, usually experienced by boys, in which the last part of the small intestine slid into large the intestine. This telescoping action often blocks food or fluid from passing through. Intussusception also cuts off the blood supply to the part of the intestine that's affected. Nothing registered until I heard, “he is doing fine and currently being monitored in recovery.”

Relief.

Soon the nurse returned him and to my amazement he was alert and cooing as if nothing had happened, meanwhile, the nurse, likely noticing my surprise, noted babies recover quicker than the parents.

There on his tummy was a one-inch incision. Personally, I was a bit angry, an odd thing to admit. I was a wreck, but Tommy was as happy as could be, alert ready for a new day while Mom and Dad had spent the last twelve hours on a nonstop roller coaster ride of emotions. I doubt this narrative has or can fully express the depth of angst I experienced listening to my son scream in obvious pain, the not knowing the cause, treatment, or possible outcomes.

I had to tell my story first and how it impacted my response to the following tiny tot’s story.

Let me introduce you to Rexford L. Maynard, a 2nd cousin once removed. Rexford was born August 31, 1918 and died Sunday January 23, 2000 at age 81.

From Rexford’s obituary:

• Rexford was a member of the Fassett Baptist Church in Fassett, PA.

• He retired from the Eclipse, Bendix, Facet in 1979 after 30 years.

• He was at one time a South Creek Township supervisor and road foreman for 12 years. He was a member of the South Creek Police Force and Mansfield Police Force, a charter member of the South Creek Volunteer Fire Department and a driver of the South Creek Ambulance.

• He is survived by his wife of 57 years, Virginia (Culver) Maynard; children, Janice (Gary) Finnerty of Gouverneur, NY; Pat (Bill) Brewer of Lawrenceville, PA; Carlton (Jackie) 25 great-grandchildren; brothers, Lynn (Ruth) Maynard and Lester (Bertha) Maynard, both of Gillett, PA; several nieces, nephews, and cousins. Rexford was predeceased by sons, Richard Maynard in 1989 and Kenneth Maynard in 1946 and a brother and sister, Melvin Maynard in 1945 and Pauline Wood in 1995.

Source: Tri-Counties Genealogy & History by Joyce M Tice

Let me introduce you to Virginia Culver, a lifelong resident of Gillett, Pennsylvania born November 14, 1924 and died Saturday November 24, 2001 at age 77.

From Virginia’s Obituary:

• Virginia was the loving wife to the late Rexford L. Maynard. Together they shared 57 loving years filled with priceless memories.

• Surviving Virginia are her devoted children; Janice and Gary Finnerty of Gouverneur, NY, Pat Brewer of Gillett, PA, Carlton and Jackie Maynard of Waverly, NY, Donna and Wendell Harkness of Gillett, PA, 8 grandchildren and step-grandchildren, 27 great grandchildren, sister; Alicia and David Byork of Wolcott, NY, several nieces, and nephews.

• Virginia is predeceased by her husband Rexford L. Maynard, sons; Kenneth and Richard Maynard, granddaughter; Kathy Chapman, great-grandson Matthew Hammond, father; Ulysses F. Culver, mother; Jennie Queal Culver and brothers Ulysses R. and Arthur H. Culver.

• Those close to Virginia knew her best for her love and devotion to her loving husband Rex and the family they shared. Devoting all her love to her children, grandchildren and great-grandchildren was what she loved the most. Leading her family to a strong faith in the Lord was something that Virginia always made time for. That is why she could also devote so much time to her Church family whom she loved, at the Fassett Baptist Church. Virginia served her church as past Trustee, Deaconess, flower committee member, Sunday School Teacher, Vacation Bible School Teacher and organizer of most church functions and dinners.

• Virginia also had a wonderful love of the community that surrounded her and Rex. Early on, they saw that the area would be better served with a fireman's auxiliary. Together, with the help of other community members, they organized the first South Creek Volunteer Fire Department Women's Auxiliary.

• Her devotion to her community did not stop there. Virginia and Rex also spent many hours with the South Creek Volunteer Ambulance Squad. This was a task she never minded because she was always able to be next to Rex.

• They also loved the many friends they made through the years. They were also involved with the South Creek Senior Citizens Center and Fassett Grange. Throughout her lifetime, Virginia Maynard made a loving mark on both the communities of Fassett and Gillett.

Published in Star-Gazette on Nov. 26, 2001

I never met Rexford or Virginia even though our lives shared time and space; having been born in 1949 and approximately 20 miles away. I realize there are a number of relatives I could have learned about if only I had taken an interest while wandering through cemeteries with my parents. I could have located their offspring and gathered so much more information about the Maynard clan. Using some time to research there is more to learn about Rexford and Virginia, their children, grand-children, and entire family tree. No wonder the Voices In My Head continue to keep me up at night.

A warning is in order before you continue, the following could be upsetting so if you wish to turn back, now is the time.

Following are two press releases, word for word:

Kenneth N. Maynard, 1, son of Mr. and Mrs. Rexford Maynard of Gillett R. D. 2. Sunday, Nov. 24, 1946 . Survived by parents, brother, Richard, at home; grandparents, Mr. and Mrs. Cola Maynard, Mr. and Mrs. U. F. Culver; great-grandfather, Robert Queal, D. W. Wright, all of Gillett; great-grandmother, Mrs. Edna Carr of Millerton. The body is at Soper Funeral Home, Troy, Pa., and will be taken to family home Tuesday. Funeral Wednesday, 2 p, m. Burial in Gillett. Rev. Charles Root

Burns Fatal To Tiny Tot From Gillett

Kenneth Maynard, 14 months, son of Mr. and Mrs. Rexford Maynard of Gillett, Pa. was burned fatally Sunday afternoon when an electric percolator overturned spilling coffee on him.

The baby was scalded over 75 per cent of his body surface. Admitted to Arnot-Ogden Hospital at 5:45 Sunday afternoon, he died two hours later.

The child was taken to the hospital by his parents.

(His headstone below is located at the Lower Gillett Cemetery.)

I dare not imagine how this happened, I cannot imagine the parent’s 20-mile drive in a 1946 era automobile on those roads to Elmira, the wait as the nurses and doctors gathered around him seeking to comfort the tiny tot, those final moments when the medical staff told Rexford and Virginia the unmanageable. The passing of Kenneth. Learning about this tragedy with my own vivid memories of my tot experiencing an emergency gives me little insight.

Rexford was 28. Virginia was 22.

Rexford lived until he was 81. Virginia lived until she was 77. Each having a full life carrying the memories of their lost child and how he left them.

When Tommy was seven months old and screaming in pain and we could not get to him or help him, I was 26, Norma was 22.

Perhaps someone, someday having known Rexford and Virginia will possess and provide some additional details and will share their knowledge and allow me to amend this story.

Release.

Relief.