But, not everyone was pleased.

Some woman in Texas named Connie Gray (aka Texas Search Angel) asked me to remove my grandmother’s name from this blog. Suffice to say, the comment rubbed me the wrong way.

I’m turning her comments, as well as my resplies, into a seperate blog entry.

Texas Search Angel

I am a Search Angel. There are many of us out here who help people reunite with their birth families.

There are many reasons a child is adopted.

The list is endless: girl is told she has committed a great sin; girl is told she can come home but the child can not; the girl was raped; the girl was raped by a family member; the girl chose a better life for the child than what she could provide; the child was stolen; the child was a result of an affair of the adopted father; on and on and on.

The quest for knowledge and reunion must be coupled with the respect for privacy of the birth mother. Having her name listed in this blog is not respectful of what she went through and the decisions she made back in the 1940’s.

That woman may still be living and never told anyone about the child. Until you have her permission, I would respectfully request that you remove her name from your blog.

If you would like assistane in the quest I would be happy to help you after the removal.

Sincerely, Connie

And my response:
Connie,

Indeed, there are many reasons why people give kids up for adoption. Every situation is unique as the child and mother.

There is a lot more to my father’s story than I’ve posted here. I know that my his earliest months, shared with his birth mother, were far from ideal. My cousin Jim Gulley, whose aunt Carrie adopted my father, is correct when he says my father went to a better home. The the relationships that were forged with that adoption continue to this day.

Whatever the situation was I firmly believe that my father had a right to know who his birth parents were. No adoption decree, sealed file, court order or perverted system of morals can ever undo the fact that this girl, Peggy Glendora Brooks, gave birth to my father. She, along with Carrie Gulley Henderson, was one of his mothers and one of my three grandmothers.

Her legacy, whatever it was, is mine too. The situation that prompted her to give my father up was never so horrid that her name in connection with me and him must be forever sealed from public view. There is nothing so shameful and horrific about my past that I have to hide some names.

Her name, in public connection with mine, is valid and good.

Keeping her name hidden under lock and key was rooted in bullshit mid-century notions of shame and morality as well as a fantasy that adoption would “undo” genetics. Perhaps it’s a cultural difference between the Canadian Pacific and the American South, but these values carry no weight with me. I will always stand firmly on the side of truth.

Honouring this unspoken/unwritten promise of secrecy just perpetuates a culture that has absolutely no place in my life.

I regard my grandmother’s life, name and story with the utmost compassion and empathy. If anything, I seek to honour and empower her name. Her story is a part of my life story and there is absolutely nothing wrong with sharing her name on my personal blog.

So, her name will remain on my site unless she tells me otherwise. If, however, you had thought to ask me a few questions like a good researcher or “search angel” you might learn why that might be difficult.

I get the impression that you’re more inclined to offer unsolicited, condescending opinions than to listen or ask questions. So, if I seek assistance with my search I highly doubt that I’d turn to you.

Her reply:

Nathaniel,

thanks for your response, I appreciate hearing your viewpoint and there is always more to the story.

My follow-up

Connie,

You came across as a very ill-informed person.

You came on here, spouted your opinions and asked me to do something without first asking any questions.

You didn’t ask me if I located my grandmother or if she had consented to me publishing her name.

The fact is you don’t know the answers to these important questions but you still went ahead and made a judgement on my actions saying that “Having her name listed in this blog is not respectful of what she went through and the decisions she made back in the 1940’s”.

You then go ahead and say “That woman may still be living and never told anyone about the child.” Once again, you didn’t ask me if she is living or if she told anyone about my father.

You then have the nerve to go ahead and “respectfully” request that I redact her name.

All I can say to that, Connie, is how dare you.

But you don’t stop there, you conclude your post with the most conceited, manipulative offer of conditional help I’ve ever received.

Give your head a check.

Anyways… here’s the offending name:

PEGGY GLENDORA BROOKS

Ooh! And here’s her actual signature!

Adoption petition

The “Petition of Mrs. Carrie Elizabeth Henderson and Roabie Wesley Henderson to Adopt Tommie Robert Brooks” begins with a three sentence statement attributed to Miss Glendora Brooks in which she says it’s her “desire” that her four month old child be adopted by the Hendersons, and that the child is illegitimate. The statement is dated October 14, 1941 – making it the first official record pertaining to my father. Her name is type-written – not signed.

The following month temporary custody of the child was awarded to the Hendersons. In 1942 the court accepted their petition and finalized the adoption and made the five following points:

- The Hendersons were morally and financially fit to take care of the child.
- Glendora Brooks signed a consent agreement for the child to be adopted by the Hendersons.
- The child was illegitimate.
- The child had no property.
- The Hendersons wished to change the child’s name to Tommie Robert Henderson.

Sealed envelope

I’ve read so so much about the impact of sealed birth records in the lives of adoptees. They’ve taken on a near mythical quality in my mind and I was curious to know what the actual physical sealed file looked like. I couldn’t find any pictures online so when I sent away for my father’s information I asked them send me a copy of the sealed envelope. Here’s what my father’s looks like:

“Original” birth record

This “Special Certificate of Birth” was not filed out until February, 1944 – some three years after my father’s birth. Apparently no certificate was filed out at the time of his birth. Despite the court order, which lists his birth name as Tommie Robert Brooks, the person filling out this form (presumably my adoptive grandfather) took it upon himself to record his birth name as Donald Wesley Brooks.

While there is no mention of the father there is a little bit of information about the mother. Her name is listed as Peggy Brooks. She was born in Missouri and was 17 at the time she gave birth to my father.

Amended birth record

The amended record is intended to replace the original birth record. My father’s name is listed as Donald Wesley Henderson and his adoptive parents, Roabie and Carrie Henderson, are listed as parents. Their place of residence is listed as Smiths Station, Alabama. This record wasn’t filled out until July, 1946 - two years after the original birth record and five years after my father’s birth.

The most interesting thing about this record is a mysterious witness signature.  Someone named “Mrs. Michael Voytovich” declared under oath that they had “known the child since birth.”  I wonder who this person was and what their connection was to my father. Perhaps a relative or a social worker.

Baptismal dedicational record

According to this document my father was dedicated as a member of the Eighth Street Assembly of God in Columbus, Georgia on May 15, 1942 under the name Donald Wesley Henderson although the document wasn’t filled out until May 8, 1943. This is the earliest record of the name “Donald Wesley Henderson”.

Analysis

My grandparents Roabie Henderson and Carrie (Gulley) Henderson (1920s) Photo courtesy of Jim Gulley.

In his early life my father used the names Tommie Robert Henderson and Donald Wesley Henderson. I figured one was his adopted name and the other was one his birth mother chose. I could never figure out which was which as they both appeared on different legal forms. His birth certificate and school records, for instance, are under Tommie Robert but in his father’s will and family correspondence he is Donald Wesley.

His adoptive family his parents named him Donald . In one dramatic story a relative described how he ripped up his birth certificate, told the Hendersons they were not his parents and renamed himself Tommie Robert.

The adoption petition, however, seems to debunk this theory.

According to the petition he was named Tommie Robert Brooks, presumably by his biological mother shortly after birth. The Hendersons initially intended to retain the name Tommie Robert, changing only the last name as per the court order.

By mid-1942, however, they dedicated (baptised) him under the name Donald Wesley Henderson. They used this name again on both his amended and “original” birth certificate.

I can understand why they would use Donald Wesley on his amended birth certificate –  that was he name they wanted to use going forward– but I don’t understand why the Hendersons chose to list his birth name as Donald Wesley Brooks.  It suggest that they were anxious to eliminate any trace of his origins.

The State of Alabama, however, denied the Hendersons’ request and stuck to the letter of the law. When they issued my father’s birth certificate in 1946 they did so under his legal name: Tommie Robert Henderson.

I find it ironic, and immensely gratifying, that the agency which kept my father’s birth records sealed for nearly 70 years also ensured that his original name would remain intact.

I was hoping this file would have information on my grandmother but sadly there wasn’t. It troubles me that her voice seems to be completely absent from this process. The petition says that she agreed to give up her son for adoption, but the words are clearly written by some lawyer and her “signature” is typewritten which makes me wonder if she was even a party to this process.

It’s my understanding that adoptions in that region were often conducted through an agency that would keep the identities of the birth parents from the adoptive parents and vice versa.  In my father’s case, however, it appears that the Hendersons knew Glendora Brooks making this something of an open adoption.

Conclusion

Tommie Robert Henderson (1959)

Overall I am a little dissapointed. I was hoping for more information - something that made my grandmother a little more human. Something that could link me to a living relative somewhere out there. More than anything, these documents provide a hearty dose of 1940s stigma, shame and dishonesty. It’s a lot of bullshit to unravel.

I do take comfort in learning that his name - his honest to god legal name - was the one his elusive birth mother intended for him.

My search for the truth continues!

Today Housemate bought a new wireless router to replace the old piece of junk which has some issues with connection speed.

When he set up the wireless account for our apartment I enthusiastically stated “Ooh! You’re naming it after the cat!”

I stated this, I didn’t ask it at first because I assumed that he, like every other kind-hearted person in this country, knows that you are you supposed to name your wireless account after any pets in the house.

When I use my laptop at my friend Stephanie’s house, for example, I connect to her kitty Emma. It’s nice, but sadly I’ll never be able to have that wireless link up with my own cat, Khan. Housemate adamantly refused to do the right thing and name our wireless connection.

“You and I won’t live together forever,” he explained. “Eventually you’ll move or I’ll move and it won’t make sense to have his name attached to it.”

He says this despite the fact that he’s changed the wireless account name at least three times in the last three years. Surely if him or I were to move it wouldn’t be so difficult to change the name and even if housemate and Khan part ways, wouldn’t it be nice to have a little reminder of his sweetness?

When I use my laptop I would like to connect to my happy, treat-guzzling kitten not some character in a science-fiction novel on one of housemate’s dusty shelves. In this case the character came from a Roger MacBride Allen novel.

I tried to compromise and suggest that he name the connection “Khan” not in honour of my cat but the character Khan Noonien Singh from that Star Trek movie.

Alas, Housemate refuses to give an inch on this. He may have won this battle but the struggle will live on! One day this apartment will enjoy wireless service through the cat!

What do you think?

The final legal barrier between me and the truth of my heritage was obliterated yesterday. Judge Eugene Reese of the Circuit Court of Montgomery County, Alabama signed an Order for the Alabama Department of Health, Center for Health Statistics to unseal my father’s birth and adoption records.

My father was born in Phenix City, Alabama in 1941. At approximately three months of age his mother, an unmarried nightclub singer, put him up for adoption.  Shortly thereafter the records associated with his birth mother, background and adoption were sealed.

I never knew my father for he was in prison in the United States my entire life. When I did contact him through letters my recurring question was about the identity of his birth parents. In every response he named a different set of parents. One week his mother was a gypsy princess and the next she was a British heiress, a South Dakota poet laureate or a Nashville singer.

My father was a pathological liar, but I really believed that in this one instance he would muster the heart and brains to tell me what he knew of his birth parents and was bitterly disappointed when he refused. But when he died in 2003 I discovered that it wasn’t just a case of him not wanting to tell me. He was unable to for he didn’t know.

Among his possessions I found several letters in which he pleads for information on his birth mother. Some of these are letters to newspapers or lawyers associated with his adoption case. There are several application forms to agencies in Georgia and Alabama requesting his birth records.

Here’s an example of one of those letters which ran in a 1988 edition of the Phenix Citizen (click for larger view):

Every one of his attempts to find the truth was coldly dismissed and he never had the tools to maintain his search. For my father, this pursuit of truth was an exercise in alienation and disappointment. I almost don’t blame him for retreating to fantasy.

While my desire to know the truth of my family goes back for decades, my formal search only began in 2007.

He was born in Phenix City so I travelled there to petition the Russell County Court to unseal his birth records. It was then that I learned his adoption proceedings took place across the river in Columbus, Georgia so in 2008 I petitioned courts there but they essentially bounced me off to the Georgia Adoption Reunion Registry. In 2009 I sent them $300 and they told me the name and last-known address of my grandmother but they had no medical or background information. It was a total rip-off.

The complete records, which include my father’s birth certificate, medical information and so forth, are in Alabama. So I phoned Reginald Strickland, the Deputy Director for Alabama Center for Health Statistics who is responsible for sealed records and asked him what to do.

Here’s the court order (click for larger view):

He informed me that the information may be released as provided under Section 22-9A-12(c) of the Code of Alabama, 1975 which states that the record may not be viewed except upon order of a court of competent jurisdiction which would be the Montgomery County Circuit Court.

I am deeply grateful to Reginald Strickland. I would never have figured this out if I hadn’t called him. I am also thankful to Judge Reese who signed the order and his able staff who patiently answered my questions over the last few months.

Next week I’ll send the Court Order and $25 to Alabama vital statistics who will send me everything in the sealed file.

I have no idea what’s in there. It could be as little as a birth certificate and a copy of the adoption decree but I’m hoping there’s a lot more information. I hope to glean some identifying information about my grandparents.

At the end of the day I might not find out much, but I take comfort in knowing that I will have all the information that’s been withheld for  nearly 70 years.

Stay tuned for more updates!

Another plus to storing his treats up there is that it’s high and out of reach to him. But he knows the treats are there and when he wants them he plops himself next to the shelf, gazes longingly at the treats and meows. Most of the time it works and he gets his treats but sometimes I’m just feeling too darn lazy.

Sensing that I’m not getting his message Khan’s kicked it up a notch. Instead of meowing in front of the shelf he now actually hops onto the darn shelf! It’s only a matter of time before he makes his way to the top…

I believe this is a  homophobic policy and was amused to see the rather gay Facebook profile picture for Ron Vezina, the Director for Media Relations and External Communications for Canadian Blood Services:

Here’s a paragraph from an email I sent him:

“I believe the ban on gay blood donation is a policy rooted in homophobia and not sound medical science. Granted, your personal views may differ, but defending CBS’s homophobic policies on a public forum is part of your job and that’s what you do to make a living. Right or wrong, I believe you are irrevocably linked with this policy and find it ironic that you choose to use a Facebook picture that is, in my opinion, very gay.”

Here’s a paragraph from his response:

“Thanks for your note. First the personal part. My facebook pic is a spoof and it’s on my own personal site. It’s a joke between my friends and I after I was accused of having a very boring profile pic. All those who know me also know that my washboard abs are buried under a couple of loads of laundry!”

Khan, an aspiring academic, checks out Housemate's new degree.

I didn’t go to the ceremony.

Firstly, the ceremony was in the morning and I am not the biggest fan of mornings. Secondly, too many parents attend these things and I feel incredibly out of place in front of other peoples’ parents.

He got his Master’s degree in some kind of science. I flipped through his thesis and it’s all mumbo-jumbo to me.  I wanted to paste some of it in this blog entry but Housemate forbade me. His reason? “It’s not in the library yet.”

Khan relaxing next to the bound copies of Housemate's thesis.

Usually, with a pop, they cost $7.65 but today I was dinged $8.16. This increase is a result of the new Harmonized Sales Tax which combines the Goods and Services Tax with the Provincial Sales Tax.

Oh well, at least I enjoyed the pizza rollers! Not even the government can eff that up.

I hate chatroulette but my brother Gino thought it’d be fun if I tried to find him on it. I guess somebody hasn’t told him about Skype yet…

Usually it’s just some guy jacking off, spam ads or assholes. But today I happened upon a Photoshop screen with the words “I will draw an animal.” I tell ‘em “Cat!” and bring Khan up to the screen.

And so, this dude from the south of Portugal, produced the following masterpiece in Photoshop:

It made my afternoon!