Don't You Love Your Daddy? by Sally East
It is delicate finding the right balance, reconciling my needs with theirs. I do understand that they, and particularly my mother, feel the need to play a part in my life going forward, and in the life of her first grandchild. Positive things have come out of it. Home from work, I reached into the post box and pulled out a handful of junk mail. And also a cream coloured envelope with an unfamiliar postmark. I had seen the handwriting on the envelope once before: it matched the signature on my adoption paperwork.
It felt as though all the blood was draining out of my face as I stumbled blindly along the hallway to the apartment, clutching the letter. Tears streamed down my face as I read and re-read. One passage made me sob out loud. After some time had passed I became aware of my surroundings again and realised I was sitting on the stairs, my bag still around my shoulder, in semi-darkness.
The front door stood ajar, my keys dangling from the lock. She had been hoping against hope for almost thirty years that I would make contact with her one day. Having me adopted was not exactly her choice , as her parents with whom she had always had a difficult relationship had pressured her into taking that course of action.
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I was shocked to read that my sixteen-year- old mother had spent ten days in the maternity hospital after the birth, feeding me, bathing me and holding me in her arms, before giving me up. A couple of years later my mother got back together with an old flame and they married when I was four years old. More than a decade passed before she felt able to try for any more children. Eventually they had twin boys. The thing that she found hardest to explain to me, the main reason for her feelings of guilt and regret, was that the man she had married was my biological father. When I finally made the decision to write, first and foremost I wanted to contact my mother to let her know that things had turned out well for me, that I was happy, that I was contemplating starting a family of my own.
In return I hoped to find out that her life had not been ruined by her teenage pregnancy, that she had moved on and been happy too. I was a mess for a while. I suppose I was unprepared for the emotions I had stirred up: I had no inkling I possessed such strong feelings, but they must have been lurking beneath the surface all along. It was overwhelming. Far more than I had bargained for. I had wanted to find out about my biological mother.
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Instead I had found a whole family. The year was In those days it was the done thing for single teenage mums to have their children adopted. My biological mother was fifteen when she realised she was pregnant, and no longer seeing her boyfriend. I was adopted at birth by a couple who had been unable to conceive and had spent several years on adoption agency waiting lists. The photographs taken of mum and dad holding me in their arms on the day they finally brought me home speak volumes. My new mum looked radiant. I cannot remember a time when I was not aware that I was adopted.
Two years later when my parents began proceedings to adopt a baby brother, my mother discovered she had conceived naturally. Enter your email below and we'll send you another email. If you would like to contact KIRO 7 or kiro7. Please read the tips below to determine where you should direct your e-mail. Click one of the following for more emailing options.
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If you have a news item you'd like to share with KIRO 7 News, or want to let us know about a breaking news event in your area, select "News Tips. If you would like to comment on stories or navigation on the kirotv. If you would like information about advertising opportunities on KIRO 7 or kiro7. If you would like information about public service announcements, events, job shadows, auction contributions and community involvement, please contact "Community Relations. Sign in using your kiro profile Need a profile? Welcome back. Use another account. You're Almost Done! The parents of gangster Clyde Barrow, sitting in their home, circa She was far more literate than her husband, who had been sickly and never went to school.
The couple spent most of their life farming, or trying to. Making a living off the soil was a challenge, especially as their family grew from one child in to seven by Cumie became savvy in survival skills.
A depression in farm prices after World War I forced Henry and Cumie to move in to Dallas, where Henry scraped out a living peddling scrap. By the time Clyde Barrow was in his mid-teens, he had given up on school and was working in a series of factory jobs. Before long, he added stealing to his skills—first metal items to help his father and then turkeys before advancing to car theft and break-ins. When the police in Dallas began to haul him to the station regularly for questioning, he took his trade to other Texas cities.
In early , he met and fell head over heels for Bonnie Parker, an animated, petite blond who was separated from her teen husband.
I Love my Dad with the Very Hungry Caterpillar
Just a few weeks later, though, Clyde was arrested and eventually sent to Waco, Texas, where he was quickly tried and convicted for several thefts and burglaries. Authorities in Houston then blamed him for a murder several months before. With Clyde facing 14 years in prison and a murder charge, Cumie gave an interview to the Waco News-Tribune , insisting he was in Dallas, not Houston at the time of the murder. She attributed his troubles to falling in with a bad group of young men and noted, correctly, that he had previously been charged, but never convicted, of a crime.
In fact, her baby-faced son was at least two years older than that—but she surely knew that the state tended to be more lenient with teens. By most accounts, Clyde was born in , meaning he had just turned But the family Bible listed his birth year as , which some claim is correct. The murder charge was dropped when another suspect emerged. But when Clyde arrived at the state penitentiary to serve his sentence, he listed his age as Clyde Barrow, holding a machine gun while sitting on the front fender of a car circa