Troy Jackson, the Maine Democrat nominated to challenge Sen. Susan Collins, has been in a long-term relationship with his second cousin, and the two share a pair of adult sons, according to genealogical records unearthed by an independent journalist.
Independent journalist Steve Robinson published a report revealing that Jackson, 58, and his partner Lana Pelletier share the same set of great-grandparents. Jackson's maternal grandmother, Albertine Pelletier O'Leary, and Pelletier's paternal grandfather, Louis A. Pelletier Sr., were siblings, making Jackson's mother, Colleen McBreairty, and Pelletier's father, Louis Jr., first cousins. That puts Jackson and his partner one generation further removed: second cousins who grew up in the same tiny corner of northern Maine and attended Fort Kent High School together.
The relationship is legal under Maine law. But the disclosure, and Jackson's campaign response to it, raises fresh questions about a Democratic nominee already dogged by controversy before his general election bid has even begun in earnest.
Jackson's campaign did not dispute the genealogical findings. Instead, it emailed a statement to the New York Post on Friday that ignored the substance of Robinson's report entirely and pivoted to attacking the incumbent Republican senator:
"Susan Collins will do anything to distract from the fact that she votes with Trump 96% of the time and has sold out working people in Maine. Personal attacks on Troy's family are shameful and desperate."
The statement offered no denial, no clarification, and no explanation of why older official biographies referred to Pelletier as Jackson's "wife" when, as Breitbart noted, locals told Robinson the couple has never been legally married. Jackson's current campaign materials describe Pelletier as his "partner."
Neither the Maine Democratic Party nor the Democratic Senatorial Campaign Committee returned requests for comment.
Both Jackson and Pelletier hail from Allagash, a village in the rural North Maine Woods near the Canadian border. The 2020 census counted 237 residents. Robinson noted that relationships between second cousins are not uncommon in the region, where the population pool is small and families have lived for generations.
Maine law, enacted in 1985, prohibits marriages between parents and children, grandparents and grandchildren, siblings, and aunts or uncles and nieces or nephews. The original statute also banned first-cousin marriages, but an amendment passed roughly two years later carved out an exception: first cousins may marry if they present a certificate of genetic counseling signed by a physician, certifying that potential children face an acceptably low risk of physical deformity or cognitive impairment. Second-cousin unions face no restriction at all.
So the relationship itself breaks no law. The political problem for Jackson is different. He is running as a populist champion of working Mainers, and voters tend to expect transparency from candidates about their personal lives, particularly when a candidate has apparently used different labels for the same relationship depending on the audience. Calling Pelletier his "wife" in older bios while never having legally married her is, at minimum, misleading.
Maine does not recognize common-law marriage. That distinction matters beyond semantics: it raises questions about Jackson's financial disclosure obligations and whether assets or income connected to Pelletier have been properly reported. Neither the campaign nor the party has addressed that issue.
Jackson was not Democrats' first choice to take on Collins. He was formally nominated at a special party convention on July 25 only after the original nominee, Graham Platner, dropped out of the race on July 8. Platner withdrew after his ex-girlfriend accused him of rape, allegations that prominent Democratic women largely refused to address publicly.
Jackson, a former president of the Maine State Senate and onetime logger, was supposed to be the steadier hand. Yet within days of his nomination, the New York Post reported that Jackson had scrubbed social media posts praising Platner, an effort to distance himself from a candidate whose conduct his own party could not defend.
Now Robinson's genealogical report adds another layer of awkwardness. The relationship itself may be legal, but the pattern is unmistakable: Maine Democrats keep putting forward Senate candidates who generate personal controversies that overshadow whatever policy case they hope to make against Collins. Sen. John Fetterman, notably, has been one of the few Democrats willing to criticize his own party's handling of the Platner debacle.
The DSCC, which has invested heavily in flipping Collins' seat, has so far said nothing about Robinson's findings. That silence is consistent with the national party's approach throughout the Maine saga: say as little as possible and hope the news cycle moves on. It is a strategy that works until it doesn't, and the general election is still months away.
What stands out most about the Jackson campaign's response is not the family tree. Second-cousin relationships are legal, and in a village of 237 people, overlapping genealogies are a demographic fact of life. Voters can make of that what they will.
What stands out is the refusal to engage. Robinson published specific genealogical records. The campaign's reply mentioned none of them. Instead, it accused Collins of orchestrating "personal attacks", without offering any evidence that Collins or her campaign had anything to do with Robinson's independent reporting. The 96-percent-Trump-voting-record line is a talking point, not an answer.
That kind of deflection is familiar. When Democrats face uncomfortable disclosures, the playbook is to reframe the story as an attack by the other side rather than address the underlying facts. It worked for years in races where the press cooperated. It works less well when the genealogical records are public and the journalist who found them has no party affiliation to attack.
The broader pattern of Democratic leaders rallying behind scandal-plagued candidates rather than demanding accountability has become a recurring feature of the party's recruitment failures. Maine's Senate race is only the latest example.
Jackson has also benefited from figures outside Maine who have shown a willingness to overlook controversy when the seat matters enough. That impulse, party over vetting, is precisely how Democrats ended up replacing one troubled nominee with another in the same cycle. Bill Maher's earlier endorsement of Platner despite misconduct allegations illustrated the dynamic clearly.
If Jackson wants Maine voters to trust him with a Senate seat, he might start by answering a straightforward question about his own family honestly, instead of blaming Susan Collins for a report she didn't write.
