When Marriage Certificates Lie

Ed and Maryann Covert married on Feb. 29, 1992. But their descendants may have trouble proving it.

“You could get married and the ceremony could be officiated that day by Washington law,” Ed said.

However, “The State of Washington made them declare either the day before or March 1 as their marriage date on their marriage license, as February 29 is not legal to declare in this instance,” explained his mother-in-law, Barbara Newbould, in an e-mail. “They chose March 1.”

Indeed, the Coverts’ wedding invitations say the ceremony is on Feb. 29, but their marriage certificate is dated March 1, 1992.

“It’s easy for me because I only have to remember my anniversary every four years,” Ed joked. [Link]

Dimple Gets the Document

I just heard from Wayne Nabors, County Clerk of Putnam County, Tennessee, that the marriage license he found will be delivered to the couple's daughter, Dimple Fields—whom some of you helped find.

Thanks for all your help. I have just spoken to their daughter Dimple and grandson Earl Fields today and am going to get this marriage license to them. They are excited.

Genealogue Challenge #112

Putnam County, Tennessee, Clerk Wayne Nabors stumbled upon a marriage license from 1909.

This marriage license announces the union of Oscar Helms and Miss Nadie Carr on April 17, 1909, who were married by Justice of the Peace J.B. Lafever, but it doesn't say how old the two were or anything else about them.

"If there's a grandchild or great-grandchild who wants it, I'd be glad to give it to them," Nabors said.

How many of this couple's children can you identify?

Couple Joined in Acrimony

Eugene J. Mandziuk is suing Diana Lynn Hickson for not really being his wife.

The couple participated in a wedding ceremony in Warren in the summer of 2005 in front of 90 guests.

The Rev. Larry Sullivan signed the wrong line on the marriage license, according to the lawsuit, and Hickson was supposed to correct the oversight.

She never did, the lawsuit says.

Last March, Hickson told Mandziuk about the situation and said she didn't want to live with him any longer, the lawsuit says. [Link]

Mandziuk wants to be compensated for the cost of the wedding ring, as well as the wedding and reception.

He Didn't Know There'd Be a Test

More archival goodness from The New York Times, this time from the Mar. 28, 1886, edition:

THE BRIDEGROOM NOT POSTED.
From the Boston Budget.

A young man in a neighboring city applied recently for a marriage license and the clerk in attendance said in answer to his request, after he had made some other inquiries, "What was the name of the lady's father?" "You've got me there," was the response. "Well, then, what was her mother's name?" "I give it up," was the answer. "You seem to be profoundly ignorant regarding your intended wife's family, but perhaps you'll be communicative enough to tell me the age of the lady you intend to lead to the altar," said the long-suffering registrar. The reply was, "Couldn't, upon my life; I never asked her; she's got red hair." Finally an old acquaintance of the lady came forward and the affair was settled in a short space in a satisfactory manner. [Link (pdf)]

Robbing the Cradle OK in Arkansas

A bill passed this year in Arkansas allows preschoolers to marry, but only if they bring a note signed by mommy or daddy.

The legislation was intended to establish 18 as the minimum age to marry but also allow pregnant teenagers to marry with parental consent, bill sponsor Rep. Will Bond said. An extraneous "not" in the bill, however, allows anyone who is not pregnant to marry at any age if the parents allow it.

"It's clearly not the intent to allow 10-year-olds or 11-year-olds to get married," Bond said. "The legislation was screwed up."

The bill reads: "In order for a person who is younger than eighteen (18) years of age and who is not pregnant to obtain a marriage license, the person must provide the county clerk with evidence of parental consent to the marriage." [Link]

[Thanks, Nancy!]

Don't Get Cold Feet in Virginia

Six months after a young man in Virginia called off his wedding, the cops showed up at his mother's door.

"What's he done?" asked the bewildered mother.

"He got a marriage license and didn't return it," the deputy replied. "Do you know where it is?"

The mother supposed that her cold-footed son, just wanting to forget the whole marriage thing, had just thrown the license in the trash after the wedding was called off.

"I guess we just threw it away," the mother said. Then she hastened to add, "But it was never used."

"That's a legal document," the deputy said. "He can go to jail for not returning it to the court." [Link]

When Spelling Counts, Check Your Stomach

A man applying for a marriage license in Alabama needed help spelling his mother's name.

Morgan County Probate Judge Greg Cain told Chris Paschenko that the man spelled her name incorrectly on the application, and clerk Denise Iovino needed the correct spelling.

Denise said the man then lifted his shirt, which revealed stomach tattoos that spelled his mother's and father's names. [Link]

Let's hope he didn't get inked by this guy.

How I'll Spend My Summer Vacation

I'll be taking one of my nieces to a White Stripes concert this summer in an effort to convince her I'm not really as old as she thinks I am. For those of you who really are old, the band's two members—Jack White and Meg White—claimed to be brother and sister when they first became famous five or six years ago. The sexual tension onstage was just plain disturbing until their marriage license and divorce record came to light.

A Blot on Their Record

Two newlyweds in Illinois are complaining that the marriage licenses they received from the Peoria County Clerk's office are not worth the $27 they paid.

Courtesy of a thick black marker, the official license bore three lines (and not very neat ones) obliterating the name of the former clerk. Next to those blots is the stamped signature of current clerk Steve Sonnemaker.

The keepsake license, featuring script lettering inside a wide heart, is fouled by a black line obscuring the former clerk's name. Staci, like many brides, had planned to display the fancy document at home.

"I'm not going to put it out," she now says, scrunching up her face. [Link]

Three's a Crowd

Members of the Mountain Genealogists Society in Colorado have put up a display at a local library called "Love Through the Ages." Dale Hoffman contributed an elaborately decorated document he had inherited.

Nothing says love like a marriage license, and in 1885 in Caldwell County, Mo., they knew how to say it right. Witness the grand document announcing the union of one William Bay to his sweetheart, Laura Rathbun.

It’s unnecessarily big, for starters, and busy with scrollwork and superfluous artistry in a vaguely Florentine style. And it features photographs of the happy couple, their unsmiling faces enshrined in elaborate, individual cartouches. Curiously, it also boasts the likeness of the presiding minister, who apparently felt that his role in the nuptials warranted that honor. [Link]

No word on whether he tagged along for the honeymoon.

Opt for the Preordained Pastor

Pennsylvanians who were married by an Internet-ordained buddy may wish someday they'd walked down an aisle instead. Commonwealth law requires that a marriage be solemnized by someone with a "regularly established church or congregation."

It's become such a concern that legislators are proposing an amendment to the law, and couples who apply for a marriage license in York County are receiving a warning letter about being careful who they choose to marry them.

The disclaimer of liability states: "If you choose to be married by someone other than the officiants specifically listed & authorized by PA law, the burden of proof regarding the legality (or lack thereof) of your marriage will be upon you - should future issues arise that require a determination of the marriage's validity." [Link]

Male, Female, or None of the Above?

Because of a 20-year-old court decision, anyone tying the knot in Clark County, Ohio, has to take a strange oath before Probate Court deputy clerk Sharon Weldy will issue a marriage license. It starts: "Do you solemnly swear you are not a transsexual..."

"Most of the time, I'd say 75 percent of the time, when I give the oath I get laughter or giggles or questionable looks. You know, they can't believe that's what they're being asked to say," Weldy said.

"Some ask me why they have to say that. Or they look at each other and say 'Are you a transsexual?' to the other one," Weldy said.

No one has ever answered yes.

"I think the average man and woman, by the time they're getting married, kind of just assume that their partner is not a transsexual," said Richard Carey, Clark County Probate Court judge. [Link]

All in a Day's Work for a Clerk

Monday's Stamford Advocate had a great article in which Connecticut city clerks shared their oddest experiences.

"We do get some strange people," said Andy Garfunkel, Norwalk's town clerk. "Maybe not so much strange requests, but strange people."

A person seeking a change in name and gender on vital records once offered to drop some clothing as evidence that she was no longer male, Garfunkel said. A man has visited several times in recent years to fill out a marriage license -- but the bride-to-be has yet to appear. One man changed his name to a number, but Garfunkel could not remember whether it was "6," "7" or "9."

In Greenwich, a woman once asked her fiance to leave the room when she had to record her age, said Barbara Lowden, assistant registrar of vital records. A woman stormed out of the Norwalk office once after realizing the man she was with brought her in to fill out a marriage license, not "some paperwork," Garfunkel said. [Link]

Jimmy Hoffa Turns Up in Courthouse Basement

Wood County, Ohio, Records Manager Brenda Ransom ran across a reference to the 1937 marriage of Teamster boss James Hoffa and Josephine Poszywak in a black binder "tucked away in the basement of the courthouse."

Ms. Ransom said she came across the tidbit of local trivia quite by accident. The binder, apparently kept by a probate clerk in the 1940s, was filled with neatly typed but odd facts about marriage license applicants in Wood County, including people who had famous names like George Washington, those who were remarrying a former spouse, and even "divorced couples married by ministers who object to divorce."

"It's by no means a record of the court. It's just something they did for fun, I assume," Ms. Ransom said. [Link]

A call to the Probate Court confirmed that the Hoffa's license was on file. The couple apparently came to Wood County because it was known as a "marriage mill town" where requirements were lax.

A Genealogical Logic Problem

From the Rochdale (U.K.) Observer of Aug. 30, 2005:

Parish Church goes off record after licence gap

HISTORICAL detectives in Rochdale are being forced to shell out for a full family tree because 50 years of marriage licences have been misplaced.

Records of marriages at the Parish Church between 1898 and the 1950s, are not held at the church, the Local Studies library nor Manchester Central Library.

The only place with a full record is Rochdale Register Office, which charges £7 for a copy.

[snip]

Donald Foster, deputy registrar at Rochdale Register Office, said: “The church has two registers running at the same time, one for them to keep and one they send to us.

[snip]

But the Rev David Foss, Vicar of Rochdale, said they only compile one list, which they send to Manchester Central Library when complete.

[snip]

A Manchester City Council spokeswoman said: “We hold marriage records for the church of Rochdale St Chad’s from 1582 to 1898 [at the Manchester Central Library].”

“No other marriage records have been deposited by the church.”

[snip]

A spokeswoman from Touchstones Local Studies Library said: “We’ve had Manchester Library phone us asking for the marriage records, but we get ours from the library themselves. We only have records up to 1898.”

[Read the whole story]

If only one of these people is lying, where are the missing marriage records? (30-minute time limit)