Source: Red Bird
Adoption: A Letter To My Birth Mother Who I Never Knew
I was born on October 13, 1948. It was a Wednesday at 2:10 p.m. that I entered this world. Two days earlier the Cleveland Indians had defeated the Boston Braves to win the World Series four games to two. Three days earlier the Soviets had launched the first successful missile to reach space. Seven days earlier an earthquake in Ashgabat killed over 110,000 people. In nineteen days Harry S. Truman would defeat Thomas Dewey in the Presidential election despite newspapers claiming that he had lost.
The world continued doing what it does on October 13, 1948. Millions of kids headed off to school, parents headed off to work, the sun shone (my fantasy), the weather weathered and I was put up for adoption. I would spend the next nine months in eight different foster homes; by the end of June, 1949 I was undernourished, under-nurtured and blind when I was adopted by Evelyn and Dale Holland in Tacoma, Washington. Two weeks after the adoption I gained my sight. The rest, as they say, is history.
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