ELKTON—On a cold, grey February day a few years ago, Lance McPherson, a special agent for the federal government, called to ask for help solving a family history mystery associated with an old, inoperable pocket watch in his custody. On this trip, he sought to uncover information about the curious timepiece, its hands frozen in time at 8:35.
However, the odd relic had nothing to do with his job. It was a family heirloom belonging to his great-grandfather, George Benjamin Askew, an engineer on the Philadelphia, Wilmington, and Baltimore Railroad. The watch was a central part of a genealogical mystery that he was trying to solve. Family lore carried down through generations had it that Askew died in a railroad accident in Elkton.
This 105-year-old story was what caused the investigator with the Office of Personnel Management to become the family history detective, seeking out the circumstances and facts surrounding his relative’s death and the curious object that had been handed down from relative to relative.
McPherson noted that he tended to be the family historian over the years and wound up with many family documents. Once he decided to begin the search for the bits and pieces, he began by examining an autobiography written by his grandmother. Only 12 years old at the time of the accident, she wrote, “Oh’ what sadness hovered over our once happy home.” She also notes that the engineer’s body was recovered the day before his birthday, nine months and nine days after he fell into the icy water of Big Elk Creek.
Having the basics from this document, McPherson searched online genealogical databases, which gave him census registers and other digital evidence. That examination produced the framework, but he wanted to color in the details, which would take some old-fashioned investigative work.
With the date and location of the accident in hand and still seeking to piece together the chain of events, we turned to some other sources for help. Aging old newspapers contained clues, as the weeklies headlined the story about the railroader’s “odd death.” These publications are often a treasure trove of information for anyone doing genealogical research. As doors continued opening, we located the coroner’s inquest report. He used that detailed insight to do some fieldwork, observing and surveying the natural environment along the creek where bridge abutments from the railroad remain in the area where the body was recovered.
Here is the story of these additional documents and the family history told. Before the sun came up on the Chesapeake Bay on Saturday, Jan. 3, 1903, 38-year-old engineer Askew eased extra freight No. 161 out of the Baltimore rail yard for a routine early morning run to Philadelphia, one that he made many times during his 18 years on the rails. Up for a promotion to an engineer on prestigious passenger runs in a few days, he surely thought this would be a piece of cake as he looked forward to returning home to his wife and five children. The new position would mean shorter runs and more money.
Rumbling northward over the Susquehanna, nothing marred the run. However, as he approached Elkton at about 8:43 a.m., the train whistle screeching for the station and crossings, a valve acted up. As the locomotive rushed toward the Big Elk Creek, he reached out beyond the cab to assess the problem. Suddenly, his head struck one of the girders of the narrow bridge, violently throwing him from the train.
Seeing him whirling out of the cab, the train’s fireman brought the train to a hurried stop. The crew rushed back to the bridge, but all they found was his blood-stained cap and a raging torrent of a creek. Unable to find Askew, they backed to Elkton to get aid. Help rushed to the spot, and before too long, a large crew of railroaders and townspeople were dredging the stream. A heavy overnight storm flooded the area, so the water was raging, and searchers were unable to find the body. Finally, the railroad company offered a $50 reward for the body’s recovery.
While the family grieved, winter slipped by, giving way to summer, but still, the beloved father’s body remained unfound. In October, a waterman gathering driftwood noticed a corpse in the brush a mile below the tracks. He immediately thought the body was that of the long-missing railroader. His identity, though obvious by the crushing injury to his head, was clearly established by finding Askew’s watch, keys, and lodge book in his clothing, the Cecil Whig reported.
Through his family history detective’s work, McPherson notes that he had “an interesting revelation.” The news account in the local newspaper indicated that the accident occurred “around the time the railroad watch stopped at 8:35. The revelation came when “I realized that I had that watch in my possession. No one ever noted that it was his watch or that it had spent nine months and nine days underwater with him,” McPherson said.
In wrapping up this case, however, he noted that “the watch and identity are now back together after 105 years.”
