Foster Talk w/Dr. John

Yesterday, July 14, 2014, I appeared as the guest for the Foster Talk with Dr. John radio show. He has made the link to the show available to me to share with others.

My portion of the hour long program includes my years in care then what has happened since those years.

I appreciated the invite and hope those who listen(ed) found it useful…especially youth in care today or those who have aged out and are struggling to overcome what difficulties they faced during their years in care.

Below is the link, if you feel you wish to contact me after listening please feel free to do so at

July 14: Larry Adams, foster care alumni, author, and advocate.

Thank you Dr. John for the invite!

Have a good day!

What Foster Parents Wish Other People Knew

This is not something I have written. I read it on Facebook the the person who complied it sent me the link to it. It so presents many of the issues foster parents deal with and is so well written I thought it needed to be shared by as wide an audience as possible. It is my hope others will get as much out of this as I have. I am a foster care alumni having spent eighteen years in the system. I am sharing it here exactly as it appears:

Posted by Sharon Astyk on March 12, 2013

This essay is a little different than most of my stuff. It is the result of a collaborative discussion on a foster parenting list I’m a part of by a group of foster parents. I’ve paraphrased and borrowed and added some things of my own, but this is truly collaborative piece, and meant to be shared. I do NOT have to get credit for it. So if you’d like to circulate it, use it in a training, distribute it at foster-awareness day, hang it on the wall, run it somewhere else, give it out to prospective foster parents, whatever, go right ahead. This is a freebie to all! I care much more than people know this than that I get credit – and most of the credit goes to a lot of other wonderful people who want to remain anonymous, most of them wiser and more experienced than I.

1. We’re not Freakin’ Saints. We are doing this because it needs doing, we love kids, this is our thing. Some of us hope to expand our families this way, some of us do it for the pleasure of having laughing young voices around, some of us are pushed into it by the children of family or friends needing care, some of us grew up around formal or informal fostering – but all of us are doing it for our own reasons BECAUSE WE LOVE IT and/or LOVE THE KIDS and WE ARE THE LUCKY ONES – we get to have these great kids in our lives.

We hate being told we must be saints or angels, because we’re doing something really ordinary and normal – that is, taking care of kids in need. If some children showed up dirty and hungry and needing a safe place on your doorstep, you’d care for them too – we just signed up to be the doorstep they arrive at. The idea of sainthood makes it impossible for ordinary people to do this – and the truth is the world needs more ordinary, human foster parents. This also stinks because if we’re saints and angels, we can’t ever be jerks or human or need help, and that’s bad, because sometimes this is hard.

2. WATCH WHAT YOU SAY AROUND THE KIDS!!!!!! I can’t emphasize this enough, and everyone is continually stunned by the things people will ask in the hearing of children, from “Oh, is their Mom an addict?” or “Well, they aren’t your REAL kids are they” or “Are you going to adopt them?” or whatever. Not only is that stuff private, but it is HORRIBLE for the kids to hear people speculating about their families whom they love, or their future. Didn’t anyone ever explain to you that you never say anything bad about anyone’s mother (or father) EVER? Don’t assume you know what’s going on, and don’t ask personal questions – we can’t tell you anyway.

3. Don’t act surprised that they are nice, smart, loving, well-behaved kids. One of the corollaries of #1 is that there tends to be an implied assumption that foster kids are flawed – we must be saints because NO ONE ELSE would take these damaged, horrible kids. Well, kids in foster care have endured a lot of trauma, and sometimes that does come with behavioral challenges, but many of the brightest, nicest, best behaved, kindest and most loving children I’ve ever met are foster kids. They aren’t second best kids, they aren’t homicidal maniacs, and because while they are here they are MINE, they are the BEST KIDS IN THE WORLD, and yes, it does tick me off when you act surprised they are smart, sweet and loving.

4. Don’t hate on their parents. Especially don’t do it in front of the kids, but you aren’t on my side when you are talking trash either.

Nobody chooses to be born mentally ill. No one gets addicted to drugs on purpose. Nobody chooses to be born developmentally delayed, to never have lived in a stable family so you don’t know how to replicate it. Abusive and neglectful parents often love their kids and do the best they can, and a lot of them CAN do better if they get help and support, which is what part of this is about. Even if they can’t, it doesn’t make things better for you to rush to judgement.

It is much easier to think of birth parents as monsters, because then YOU could never be like THEM, but truly, birth parents are just people with big problems. Birth and Foster parents often work really hard to have positive relationships with each other, so it doesn’t help me to have you speculating about them.

5. The kids aren’t grateful to us, and it is nuts to expect them to be, or to feel lucky that they are with us. They were taken from everything they knew and had to give up parents, siblings, pets, extended family, neighborhood, toys, everything that was normal to them. No one asked them whether they wanted to come into care.

YOU have complex feelings and ambivalence about a lot of things, even if it seems like those things are good for you or for the best. Don’t assume our kids don’t have those feelings, or that moving into our home is happily-ever-after for them. Don’t tell them how lucky they are or how they should feel.

By the way, there is no point comparing my home to the one they grew up in. Both homes most likely have things the children like and dislike about them. The truth is if every kid only got the best home, Angelina and Brad would have all the children, and the rest of us would have none.

6. No, we’re not making any money on it. We don’t get paid – we get a portion of the child’s expenses reimbursed, and that money is only for the child and does NOT cover everything. I get about 56 cents an hour reimbursed, and I get annoyed when you imply I’m too stupid to realized I’d make tons more money flipping burgers.

Saying this in front of the kids also REALLY hurts them – all of a sudden, kids who are being loved and learning to trust worry that you are only doing this because of their pittance. So just shut up about the money already, and about the friend of a friend you know who kept the kids in cages and did it just for the money and made millions.

7. When you say “I could never do that” as if we’re heartless or insensitive, because we can/have to give the kids back to their parents or to extended family, it stings.
Letting kids go IS really hard, but someone has to do it. Not all kids in care come from irredeemable families. Not everyone in a birth family is bad – in fact, many kin and parents are heroic, making unimaginable sacrifices to get their families back together through impossible odds. Yes, it is hard to let kids we love go, and yes, we love them, and yes, it hurts like hell, but the reality is that because something is hard doesn’t make it bad, and you aren’t heartless if you can endure pain for the greater good of your children. You are just a regular old parent when you put your children’s interests ahead of your own.

8. No, they aren’t ours yet. And they won’t be on Thursday either, or next Friday, or the week after. Foster care adoption TAKES A LONG TIME. For the first year MINIMUM the goal is always for kids to return to their parents. It can take even longer than that. Even if we hope to adopt, things could change, and it is just like any long journey – it isn’t helpful to ask “Are we there yet” every five minutes.

9. Most kids will go home or to family, rather than being adopted. Most foster cases don’t go to adoption. Not every foster parent wants to adopt. And not every foster family that wants to adopt will be adopting/wants to adopt every kid.

It is NOT appropriate for you to raise the possibility of adoption just because you know they are a foster family. It is ESPECIALLY not appropriate for you to raise this issue in front of the kids. The kids may be going to home or to kin. It may not be an adoptive match. The family may not be able to adopt now. They may be foster-only. Not all older children want or choose to be adopted, and after a certain age, they are allowed to decide. Family building is private and none of everyone’s business. They’ll let you know when you need to know something.

10. If we’re struggling – and all of us struggle sometimes – it isn’t helpful to say we should just “give them back” or remind us we brought it on ourselves. ALL parents pretty much brought their situation on themselves whether they give birth or foster, but once you are a parent, you deal with what you’ve got no matter what. “I told you so” is never helpful. This is especially true when the kids have disabilities or when they go home. Yes, we knew that could happen. That doesn’t make it any easier.

11. Foster kids are not “fake kids,” and we’re not babysitters – they are all my “REAL kids.” Some of them may stay forever. Some of them may go and come back. Some of them may leave and we’ll never see them again. But that’s life, isn’t it? Sometimes people in YOUR life go away, too, and they don’t stop being an important part of your life or being loved and missed. How they come into my family or for how long is not the point. While they are here they are my children’s REAL brothers and sisters, my REAL sons and daughters. We love them entirely, treat them the way we do all our kids, and never, ever forget them when they leave. Don’t pretend the kids were never here. Let foster parents talk about the kids they miss. Don’t assume that kids are interchangeable – one baby is not the same as the next, and just because there will be more kids later doesn’t make it any easier now.

2. Fostering is HARD. Take how hard you think it will be and multiply it by 10, and you are beginning to get the idea. Exhausting, gutwrenching and stressful as heck. That said, it is also GREAT, and mostly utterly worth it. It is like Tom Hanks’ character in _League of Their Own_ says about baseball: “It is supposed to be hard. If it wasn’t hard everyone would do it. The hard is what makes it great.”

13. You don’t have to be a foster parent to HELP support kids and families in crisis. If you want to foster, GREAT – the world needs more foster families. But we also need OTHER kinds of help.

You can:

– . Treat foster parents with a new placement the way you would a family that had a baby – it is JUST as exhausting and stressful. If you can offer to cook dinner, help out with the other kids, or lend a hand in some way, it would be most welcome.

– . Offer up your children’s outgrown stuff to pass on – foster parents who do short-term fostering send a lot of stuff home with the kids, and often could use more. Alternatively, many communities have a foster care closet or donation center that would be grateful for your pass-downs in good condition.

– . Be an honorary grandparent, aunt or uncle. Kids need as many people in their lives as possible, and relationships that say “you are special.”

– . Become a respite provider, taking foster children for a week or a weekend so their parents can go away or take a break.

– . Offer to babysit. Foster parents have lives, plus they have to go to meetings and trainings, and could definitely use the help.

– . Be a big brother, sister or mentor to older foster kids. Preteens and Teens need help imagining a future for themselves – be that help.

– . Be an extra pair of hands when foster families go somewhere challenging – offer to come along to the amusement park, to church, to the playground. A big family or one with special needs may really appreciate just an extra adult or a mother’s helper along.

– . Support local anti-poverty programs with your time and money. These are the resources that will hopefully keep my kids fed and safe in their communities when they go home.

– . If you’ve got extra, someone else can probably use it. Lots of foster families don’t have a lot of spare money for activities – offering your old hockey equipment or the use of your swim membership is a wonderful gift.

– . Make programs for kids friendly to kids with disabilities and challenges. You may not have thought about how hard it is to bring a disabled or behaviorally challenged kid to Sunday school, the pool, the local kids movie night – but think about it now, and encourage inclusion.

– . Teach your children from the beginning to be welcoming, inclusive, kind and non-judgemental, Teach them the value of having friends from different neighborhoods, communities, cultures, races and levels of ability. Make it clear that bullying, unkindness and exclusion are NEVER EVER ok.

– . Welcome foster parents and their family into your community warmly, and ASK them what they need, and what you can do.

13. Reach out to families in your community that are struggling – maybe you can help so that the children don’t ever have to come into foster care, or to make it easier if they do. Some families really need a ride, a sitter, some emotional support, some connection to local resources. Lack of community ties is a HUGE risk factor for children coming into care, so make the attempt.

Blood Relative Finds Me After 51 Years Separation

Before I begin this story I should note I am 63 years old. The blood relative I am speaking of was born in 1962; making him only 51 years old and that’s the reason for the title being what it is.

I should also note that to protect his interest and others involved in this story I will not be sharing many last names or location information.

Here goes:

On the evening of June 5, 2013 I received the following E mail:

Hello, you don’t know me however we are related by blood. I am Michael , the biological son of Cora Frances Lee (passed away 16 April 2001 in Detroit Michigan), who was given up for adoption back in late 60’s. My brother was Gregory( passed away 29 August 2006 in Longwood, FL). I was given this information by a court appointed investigator from the Wayne County Family courts in Michigan. I have been looking at your website

I was wondering if you would have any other information on my birth mother and my brother? I currently live in Ohio. I know the investigator has been trying to reach you, however I have no ideal if he has had any luck. Well hope to hear from you. He had not reached me but did so a day after Michael’s first E mail.

My initial reaction was this is a scam and someone is trying to get personal information from me. My response I have to admit was extremely rude and blunt.

However, as the evening went on and thinking of the search for my birth family and how difficult it was I began having second thoughts on the response I had written earlier. I decided to write this person a second time:

Probaby came across as rude in my 1st reply as I was/am leary of these types of E mails considering all the crap on the internet. Considering I had to search for my birth family and spent years in foster care in various homes….I can relate to one’s searching. I don’t know why one would say we are blood related. If you are not pulling my leg you will have to tell me why as I don’t know the people you speak of unless they crossed my path in one of the foster homes I was in.

Will see if you write or if not then I know this note was not true.

Michael’s reply came within minutes:

Understand your response. I am doing this stuff a lot later in life, as I am now 51. I will forward the e-mail with information provided to me by the investigator from the court in Michigan. If I have sent this e-mail to the wrong person I am sorry. I am attempting to get as much information on my birth mother and brother a possible. Forwarded e-mail on it’s way.

No further E mails came that evening and I retired for the night not sure if in fact I would ever hear from this person again.

One of my early morning rituals is to check for E mails that may have come in overnight. There was one from Michael! I sat there is astinishment and repeating the words “Holy Crap” as I read it. The E mail contained all the information found by the court investigator in Michigan had found.

Due to the length I cannot put it in this blog. However, it contained his birthmother’s maiden name * death information, his brother’s birth/adopted name & death information. The most amazing information was including my birthmother,s name as well as her sisters and extensive information on my grand parents and great grand parents. There was other information but I won’t bore you with it.

Yes, “Holy Crap” Michael is a blood relative…he is a first cousin. I for quite awhile just sat there stunned and read the E mail a number of times.

I sent a quick E mail to Michael confirming all the information he had sent, welcomed him into my family and arranged for us to speak on the phone that evening after I returned from work out of town.

We spoke only for a short time later that evening…it was very personal and private and I will keep it that way. Needless to say I was thrilled to have been found by a first cousin as I had had no contact with blood relatives since the passing of my birth mother, birth father as well as my first cousin Dorothy in 2005. We agreed we would have a much longer phone conversation on Saturday.

Though I felt comfortable with all the information Michael shared I wanted just a bit of further information and called the nmuber of the court investigator the next morning. He just verified all the information and also told how he had found the information needed to confirm Michael and I were indeed blood related. He was also very happy Michael and I had made direct contact.

Now I am sure you are wondering how in fact is he a blood relative and first cousin….I won’t keep you wondering any longer…LOL!

My birth mother had two sisters; Doris and Frances. During the search for my birth mother I was very aware of them. It was through Doris that I actually made contact for the first time with my birth mother. I had also searched for Frances but was unbale to find any information past 1952. At the time she was in the state hospital due to adolecent behavior not suitable to my grand parents. No one had heard from her of her since she was released from the hospital in 1952.

It was through Michael I found out why I had not been able to find Frances nor could any other family member over the years. Frances, had purposely I believe, changed how she listed her name after the hospital release. I believe she did it to make sure no one from the family would ever be able to find her as she no longer wanted contact with her parents who had put her in the state hospital in the first place. Frances’s maiden name was Frances C. Adams and she changed it to Cora (found out the C was for Cora) F. Adams. At the time of her death it was Cora F. Lee.

Michael and his late brother Gregory were Cora’s (Frances)two sons…they both are first cousins! Because of the life she chose to live at some point both Michael and Gregory were taken from her and placed for adoption. Both were lucky to be adopted by very loving families and their first names were never changed. From the information on Cora’s probate records after her death it appears Gregory remained in contact with his birth mother and also left a clue for Michael if he ever attempted to search he or Cora. Since Cora has passed I won’t detail her lifestyle but to say it was not condusive for raising children.

I should note that now all three sisters; my birth mother Roberta and Aunts Doris, Frances (Cora) are now deceased. They all passed within a year time frame.

On Saturday Michael and I spent over an hour on the phone speaking as though 51 years had never separated us. He talked of his birth mother, his adopted family as well as hs family. He lives in Ohio, spent 20 years in the army & now works for the government. He is married & has 2 adult daughters. We shared what info we could on family though we both have unanswered questions. It was great talking with him. We will be staying in touch now through E mails; phone calls but hope in time for a get together probably here in Arizona. Though emotional at times it was a very good phone call!

Unfortunately there is also a sad part to this story. He had a brother ( by the same mother but different father) who she placed for adoption as well. He was 7 yrs olderthan Michael. He passed away in 2006 at age 50. Michael had hoped to find him but of course Gregory passed before he was able to do so. I feel the past several days has been episodes of “As the World Turns” in regards to Michael finding and reaching out to me. A promise I made to Michael when we spoke on the phone Saturday was that I would help him find the adoptive family of his birth brother if possible who had been adopted even though Gregory is deceased….he wanted to find out as much as he could about him. He had his adopted last name and where he had passed which was far more information than I had when I began my birth family search back in 1982.

After he & I talked yesterday I have done some research and hope we at least may have found some of his brother’s adoptive family members…..waiting for a phone call; also have some potential calls to make if that one falls through. Michael is blood; Gregory would have been blood as well….the least I can for Michael now is what I am doing & hope we are able to find the info he is hoping for.

By 7PM Sunday night, my time, I was speaking to Gregory’s older adopted brother Charles! We spent over an hour on the phone. His family is welcoming contact from Michael. They have memories of him and have always hoped he would reachout to them. Long but short story is that Michael & Cora use to visit Gregory’s adopted family in St. Louis, MO before the adoption was finalized so they knew him. Why they also did not adopt Michael is a very heart breaking story and one that totaly disgusts me!

Gregory was bi racial and the family that adopted him was African American. They had a very close relationship with Cora and knowing she could not truly care for Michael were very willing to adopt Michael. The state of Michigan would not allow it…a black family will not be allowed to raise a white child according to the state and ordered ( via a St. Louis, MO court) Cora to return to Michigan with Michael and had him placed in foster care until he was adopted in 1967. He was never to see Cora or his brother Gregory again! Michael spent roughly three years in foster care before his second teacher took an interest him and she and her husband began the process to adopt him. The family later moved to Oklahoma.

I was able to send Michael this E mail late Sunday evening:

Hello Mike~

Well today’s research has paid off! Yes, I called the person’s number I had a 2nd time this evening and YES it is a connection.

I will let them tell you much of what was told to me as I feel it should come from them. Except to tell you that Gregory never fogot about you and it is felt if he had lived he would have searched you out. It is also felt that on Coro’a probate record Michael Adams is in fact you to give you a clue if you searched.

Gregory’s adopted father (Johnnie) has passed away at 88 in 2008. Gregory’s adopted mother (Elizabeth) is 88 and still living. It is felt she would be thrilled to hear from you.

Gregory’s adopted brother (Charles) is the one I spoke to this evening. He very much remembered you and said you were such a beautiful baby ( it was in St. Louis that you & Gregory were together with rest of the family) and very much wants to reconnect with you. Either he or Elizabeth have photos of you as a baby, your birth mother (my Aunt) and of course have photos of Gregory.

Gregory was married and his wife brought a couple of children from a previous marriage into their marriage. I did not ask many questions on this as I figured I would leave that to you.

The person I spoke with….and he will look forwad to your phone call and gave me permission to give you the information you need to do so. I of course won’t share that information here.

There are still some family in Michigan, one in Decatur IL and also Elizabeth is in Fitzgerald, GA (could not find a phone# for her) where the family is originally from before going to Michigan.

I am very elated I have been able to do this for you and have come out with positive results. I wish Gregory were alive to see this day of you reconnecting with the family and so you could have time to share and make up for the time lost. At least though you will be able to reconnect with the family that would have also adopted you if allowed to do so and still wish to be a part of your life.

Let me know how things go!
Cousin Larry~

The next day I received an E mail from Gregory’s older adoptive brother Charles:


I am thankful you called me last night. Needless to say, I was totally surprised to hear the subject, Michael’s search for Gregory.

I will be please to speak with Michael about our experiences with Gregory him. Greg is my very special and much loved and missed brother. My family to this day continually prayed for Michael’s well being and hoped to connect with him someday.

Although, Michael does not know us much after all these years, we are excited to hear of his well being and look forward to speaking with him and sharing photos and conversation. He should prepare to have at least two conversations. Initially he and I should speak and if it is acceptable to all my mother would like to talk with him. She is likely to be able to tell him more about Francis Cora (Kitty) Adams.

We always considered him as a member of our family whom we regrettably lost touch. He is a special man having multiple families and three mothers; birth mother (Cora), an early loving mother (Elizabeth) and the dear mother loved that raised him.

We have a few photo that we will gather, scan and send. However, this may take a few days as my mother is in GA and I am in FL. You can be certain we will honor the request ASAP. In the mean time I will see if I can send one or two sooner.

God bless,

Michael and I have shared a number of phone calls and E mails in the past two months. He has sent phots of himself, family, my Aunt Frances (Cora) with Gregory’s adopted mother Elizabeth and others….since full names are on each I cannot share them here at this time.

Michael and his wife and celebrating their wedding anniversary in September and are talking of flying to Las Vegas for five days. If this plan pans out I will also arrange to go to Las Vegas for at least a day or two so we will finaly be able to meet face to face…I truly hope it will work out! Then I will be able to share photos of us together.

Fifty-one years of separation but am thrilled that separation is now over. He may not be a brother but he is the closest I have to one!

What Foster Care Feels Like

Back in April a number of foster care alumni, at the request of the editor of Foster Focus Magazine, submitted our photos and a short statement about What Foster Care is Like and those were posted during National Foster Care Month in May. This month the magazine, due to the overwhelming positive respnse to the Facebook postings, has decided to print a gallery of those photos in their magazine as well as the article I wrote entitled “What Foster Care Feels Like.”

It is hoped that whether you are a foster care alumni yourself, a current foster care youth, a foster parent, social worker an advocate for reform or a foster care friendly person that the sharing of this article & gallery of photos will let you feel the true feelings of those who experienced foster care and impact you in a way that you will ask the question of “Why does it have to be this way?”

Here is the link to the magazine article and the photo gallery:

Number of Youth in Foster Care by State

Below is a link to a map provided by the Annie E. Casey Foundation of youth in foster care by state. Fiscal Year 2011 is the last fiscal year data provided, data for 2012 wil be provided later this year.

Click on the HTTP code and the image will take a take a minute to load, then you will be able to go from state to state to see specific data. You may also want to compare this to the map provided yesterday to see what percentage of youth in care are eligable for adoption ( you will need to be able to do the necessary math to get percentage.


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Foster Youth Awaiting Adoption per State

Below is the most recent available data by state as to the number of foster youth who have been declared “legal orphans” by their state and awaiting adoption. Also over 26,000 youth will age out of care many of them without any family support or other support network.


Growing Up In the Village of Little Men, A life spent on the legendary campus written by a Boys Town Alum

I have been posting on Facebook for the past month that an article I wrote of my years at Boys Town would be appearing in the June 2013 edition of Foster Focus Magazine and promised to share it on Facebook.

Unfortunately for some reason I am unable to post the actual article from the Foster Focus June 2013 edition on Facebook. It appears to be too large due to the photographs chosen to be used in the article. I am including the text of the article in this WordPress blog as many on Facebook have requested being able to read the article.

It is my hope that the “older generation” of Boys Town will relive a bit of our past when reading the article’ the newer generation will learn how things were in the past and others will learn a bit about Boys Town and the impact it had not only on my life but to the thousands who have walked this campus.

Here is the article in its’ entirety but unfortunately without the photos used in the magazine:

By Larry Adams
Foster Focus Contributor

I have been asked if I could write an article describing daily life at Father Flanagan’s Boys Home; famously known simply as “Boys Town” located in Omaha, Nebraska.

It is difficult to fulfill this request as no two days at Boys Town can be described as typical. Yes, there were certain daily functions like meal time and school, much more was offered each day to fill a boy’s time.

Rather than a typical day I would rather write in generalities of my seven plus years at Boys Town as well as what it has meant to me to this very day.

I entered the foster care system in Michigan on the day of my birth. Before Boys Town I had been moved thirteen different times between institutions and foster homes. I arrived at Boys Town, Nebraska in the late morning of April 16, 1961.

I arrived a terrified, anger filled boy of 11. I had “my brown paper bag” of worldly possessions with me. I had no idea what was to become of me. I was in a place I had never heard of before arriving.

After a brief meeting with a caseworker, my social worker departed Boys Town for her return flight to Detroit. I felt I was alone and lost in the world.

I was taken to what they, at that time, called the Orientation Center. There, I was shown a bed and a locker that was to be mine supposedly for the next 2-3 weeks. Then I was tested, interviewed and they determined to what part of Boys Town I would be sent.

I still very clearly remember crying myself to sleep my first night at Boys Town and for nights afterwards.

I still remember after being at Boys Town about a week, a counselor coming to visit with me. While talking with me he decided to checkout my locker. There he found “my bag.” I should say that in the first days there one was taken to the clothing store on campus and given a number of sets of clothes and toiletries. Mine were all packed in “my bag.”

The counselor asked me “Why were all your things in a bag rather than hanging up or on the shelves?”

I told him “I wanted to be ready when they came to get me again to take me elsewhere.”
The counselor called me over to and took me in his arms saying, “No one is going to come and take you away. I know about your life to this point and I want to let you know….you now have a home.”

I don’t think he ever fully figured out the emotions he triggered within me with those words. My eyes began misting up and before long I was crying uncontrollably. “You now have a home” kept going through my mind. “No one is going to come and take you away.” For the first time in my life someone had actually said “I was home.” I had waited over 11 years to hear those words. I don’t know how long the counselor held me in his arms, but I know it was long enough for us to miss dinner in the dining hall and he had to make arrangements for food to be brought to me. I know that for the first night since coming to Boys Town I did not need to cry myself to sleep.

Soon after leaving orientation for Gregory Hall, I was caught up in the activities at Boys Town as most boys were. Though the school year would soon be over, I was assigned to the 5th grade. I began daily choir practices along with the other choir members. Now that I had a home, my life looked different. I even unpacked “my bag” for the first time in almost 11 years…it was never packed again.

The remainders of my middle school years were rather uneventful. I continued to pass to my next grade. I was singing in the Chancel Choir and later the Repertoire Choir. During those years, I did not consider myself very athletic, so I left sports alone. I was awaiting graduation from eighth grade when I would be able to transfer to the high school section and a new world of privileges would await me.

Though Boys Town was considered a village unto itself, it was very much a part of the Omaha community. Because I was active in choir and other music programs, I had many opportunities to travel into Omaha with escort, to attend a wide variety of functions. These events could include chamber music concerts, chorale concerts or even us boys giving concerts.

Boys Town also had a wide-ranging athletic program and back in the 1960s we were amongst the top teams in the state. Boys Town won several state titles in basketball and football. When the teams were not playing at home, we boys went to town with them to cheer them on. Thus, many opportunities presented themselves for us to meet people of the community and even develop friendships. Most of my friendships came while I was in high school, but I loved the chance to go to Omaha for events while still in grade school.

June 1964…Graduation Day…I am now a high schooler. Graduation Day is the day any boy who had spent some years at Boys Town awaited. I had already been here over three years. I would move from a dorm of 25 boys to a cottage which had 5 bedrooms with only 4 boys per bedroom. Privileges not allowed grade schoolers were now mine; I could obtain passes to downtown Omaha; I could get a one week vacation away from the home if I had somewhere to go and it was approved; I could start to smoke. Yes, Boys Town allowed high schoolers to smoke back then. Now smoking is not permitted by anyone on campus.

Graduation was another one of those sad days for me. Many of the boys in my class of 1964 had family come to cheer their graduation. I had no one present.

Each high school boy was to have a job on campus. This is how we were to earn our thirty dollars a month we were given.

I had a great job my freshman and sophomore year. Msgr. Wegner, late former Executive Director of Boys Town, had his home connected to the chapel. My job was to be up at 5:30 and to be at his home by 6:15. I was met by Mrs. Ann Fischer, his personal cook. Mrs. Fischer was the mother of the famous Fischer boys of the National Football League. It was my job to help prepare breakfast and serve for him. It was great working with Mrs. Fischer. She always saw that I had a snack to take to school when I left for class. She said a growing boy needed more than three meals a day.

It was during those two years that Msgr. Wegner took me under his wing and we got to be fairly close. Though the adults were not suppose to give us money Msgr. always saw that I had a few dollars in my pocket. Once breakfast was served he usually invited me to join him at the table. We always had interesting conversations.

Msgr. Wegner’s and my relationship continued throughout my remaining years at Boys Town. His door was open to me whenever I wanted to visit with him if he was in town.
During my senior year while I was still entertaining the thought of becoming a priest he arranged for me to spend a week at Mount Michael Abbey in Elkorn, Nebraska. It was shortly after that week I decided it was more my desire to be like Msgr. Wegner than a real vocation making me think of becoming a priest. I decided not to enter the seminary. I believe Msgr. Wegner knew this would be my decision but he allowed me to make it on my own rather than directing me in any one direction.

He provided me with a “father” figure, missing from the early days of my childhood. He went further out of his way to support me than his position required.

I felt a little athletic my freshman year and went out for wrestling and track. My wrestling career didn’t last long, as after my first two defeats, the coach decided it was not my sport and suggested I concentrate on track. I ran hurdles and one mile. I was not spectacular at either, but survived the season.

I have to be honest and say I did not set the world of schooling on fire during my freshman and sophomore years of high school. In matter of fact,, I had no real interest in school and did only what was required to skate through. By the end of my sophomore year I ranked near the bottom of my class. It was not due to lack of intelligence rather; “I just didn’t care” as I was still mad at the world.

My junior year brought a sudden transformation of my life that I am grateful for to this very day. I, even as a small child, loved to argue. If it were night I would argue it was day, anything for an argument. My English teacher that year was a Ms. Genevieve Condon.

Yes, I even argued in her class! She saw something positive in my argumentative nature. Ms. Condon kept me after school one day early in the school year. She talked to me about my arguing and how she saw it as an ability, if it were directed in the proper way. I had no idea what she was talking about.

Ms. Condon took me to meet Mr. Clarence Weinerth; another English teacher but also the coach for the newly begun Speech & Debate Team. Ms. Condon simply told him, “I think we have a debater for you.” Yeah, I could now argue, and get away with it! Mr. Weinerth of course let me know that with the ability to argue I also now had to prove my case. This meant lots of hard work researching the question being debated. It also meant that to be part of the debate team and go to tournaments, my grades had to improve. I was determined to do whatever it took.

I made the novice debate team that year. I was a good debater, even though rough around the edges. My senior year, I made the varsity debate team. My partner (Jim Acklin) and I were, if I say so myself, great. Jim and I were rarely defeated. We traveled throughout the Midwest on weekends during the season, accumulating numerous trophies as winners of the tournaments. Our record at the end of the season was 289 wins as opposed to only 29 defeats. I still wonder how we lost the 29!

In January of 1968, I decided to enter the political arena and run for Mayor of Boys Town. Boys Town is a separate village. When Fr. Flanagan began the home, he determined it should be self-governed by the boys themselves, of course with his guidance. A new mayor and city council would be elected every six months. I felt I had something to offer Boys Town and tossed my hat in the ring.

My first venture into politics turned into a solid defeat, coming in next to last. It was not to be my last political venture.

In February of 1968, I turned eighteen and technically “aged out of the system.” It was also my senior year in high school. Though I could have walked out of Boys Town; I didn’t! I wanted to earn my diploma! It was also proving to be the first time in my life that I was accomplishing something and I wanted to see it to the end. I think in many ways it was the year I grew up!

A lot of things are packed into the last few months of one’s senior year of high school. Boys Town was no different. In February I was shocked to learn that my girlfriend (Marilyn) and I were chosen as King and Queen of the Sweetheart Ball for Valentine’s Day. Marilyn was a debater at another local high school. We had met at a tournament and started dating late in my junior year. I spent most of my passes into town my senior year, when I wasn’t away at a debate tournament with Marilyn.

In April was an Awards Banquet for varsity athletes to receive their BT letters and jackets; debate was considered a sport at Boys Town and I wore my jacket proudly. In May it was the Junior/Senior Prom at Peony Park Pavilion in Omaha. I wore a tuxedo for the very first time and of course took Marilyn as my date. Graduation being but a few weeks away, we were allowed to stay off campus well into the night. Preparations also had to be made as to what I would do after graduation.

Two years before I was near the bottom of my class of one hundred-thirty eight. Now I was in the top 5%. Ms Condon and Mr. Weinerth had accomplished their mission. They took a poor student who loved to argue and made a winning debater/orator out of him while also for the first time giving him a genuine interest in school. I will forever be grateful to them both. Ms. Condon is long deceased. I had visited Mr. Weinerth in my few return visits to Boys Town. He passed away at 95 in June 1999. Though in his later years he was physically incapacitated, his mind remained as sharp as a knife. On my last visit he had me take a scrapbook from his night stand to look at; one of the few mementos he took to the home with him. Inside were all the pictures taken and articles written of Jim and I. His words; “I have always been proud of my boys.” My debate partner Jim and me remained close friends after leaving Boys Town until his death in a plane crash, he was testing a new fighter plane in the US Air Force, in 1987.

June 2, 1968, Graduation Day arrives. The day I had been awaiting for seven years, one month and seventeen days.

Graduation at Boys Town is different from any other high school graduation in the country. You are not only graduating high school; you are also loosing “your home.” Boys Town had for over seven years provided me “a home.” It had provided me nurturing, a spiritual compass, an education. Graduation meant you are now an adult and it is time for you to go out in the world and make whatever mark on it you are capable of. It meant that for the first time in over seven years I would once again be “homeless.” The graduation ceremony begins mid afternoon on a Sunday and the rule is that ALL graduates must be off campus by 5 p.m. It was time to make room for new boys.

A day like graduation should be a joyous occasion as you have accomplished the first major step in your life. However, it was not such for me. I had made many friends in the Omaha and surrounding communities over the years due to debate, and many of them accepted my invitation to graduation. They cheered and stomped when my name was called. I still felt emptiness. Yes, I had friends present, but no family who would hug, congratulate and say how proud of me they were.

The fullness of graduation hit me after the ceremony when I walked to the high school building for the final time as a boy of Boys Town. After turning in my cap and gown I went to the table where I would collect a one way bus ticket to wherever I wanted to go, $50.00 from Boys Town and whatever money I had saved during my years there….which came to about $700. Fortunately I had been a saver at Boys Town; a trait I still possess today. With a final good-bye and a wish of good luck it was time to go; time to “leave home.” The only good thing was that this time I was not leaving home with only “a brown paper bag.” I was leaving with suitcases of clothes, boxes of books and mementos collected over seven years.

I remember standing outside the high school building and wondering “Am I ready?” “What am I going to do?” “Where is home?” and I made sure no one could see..a mist blurring my vision.

I should note that on the Friday before graduation I learned I had two full scholarship offers to continue my education. I accepted the offer from Midland Lutheran College in Fremont, NE.

Ready or not it was time to leave from the safe, stable confines of Boys Town which I had known as “home” into the world of the unknown.

I arrived at Boys Town with a half filled brown paper bag and left with suitcases of clothes, boxes of books and mementos. I arrived at Boys Town hating school and left graduating in the top 5% of my class and a full scholarship to college. I arrived with many bad memories of years in foster care and left with memories of “short sheeting” the tough guys, fishing at the BT lake and eating freshly fried fish behind the dining hall, having freshly baked Danish with melted butter from the bakery, running across to the 10 Mile Inn to see if they would serve us, the 1st cigarette or choir section adventures. The “Twelve Night” celebrations, “intramural sports”, The “Boys Town Choir,” once nationally known from its’ tours and records, “Christmas Eve Midnight Mass”, even the two week Liturgical Music Workshop at Boys Town attracting, renowned musicians and scholars from across the globe, the “Trade School” in which many boys learned a skill that would provide a lifetime career.

Discipline was being part of the “floor shining gang.” Now, bear in mind this was not done with a power shiner. Let me describe this floor buffer for you. It had a metal pole about four feet in length. Attached at the bottom was a 15-20 pound piece of square iron with bristles on the bottom of it. This is what was used to shine the floors. One first went over the floor several times with just the brush touching the floor. Then you repeated the process with a cloth beneath the bristles.

Let me tell you, when one finished you could see your face in the floor. Your arms were also tired as heck. I made this floor shining gang more than one time.

As you can see, we boys of Boys Town were your typical teenage boys. These were some of the things that made all of us at Boys Town part of the community and “our home.”Though I didn’t realize it until years later…these were very good years. Sending me to Boys Town was the best decision made for me during my 18 years of foster care!

Boys Town had been more than just a place that the foster care system had dumped me into. It had raised me, given me an education, nurtured me, given me a spiritual basis for my life and so much more. It had in fact been a “home.”

I have returned to Boys Town for class reunions and will do so again for my 45th is just a few weeks away.. Though the changes have been made and continue, I will make the most of my time there…I will make it “my home” even if it is just for a weekend…it is still the only “home” I have ever known. “Home” was taken from me far too many times in my young life…I won’t allow anyone to take “my home” from me now or ever!

May is National Foster Care Month…How WE Can Help!

Today across the nation there are over 400,000 children in foster care, over 20,00 of these youth are “legal orphans” awaiting adoption and 25,000 of these children will age out this year. During the month of May hundreds of community events are being planned across the country to help retain, recruit and support critically needed foster parents as well as provide support and advocacy for foster youth and assist children aging out of the system.

We can get involved now to Change a Life one child at a time or pay the cost of our failure later. According to the latest statistics for vulnerable children aging out of the system this is the price we are already paying today for our failure:

Only 54% earn a high school diploma
Only 10% of those go on to college
Only 2% of those obtain a Bachelor’s degree or higher
84% become parents prior to a marriage
51% will experience unemployment due to lack of skills
30% have no health insurance
25% will at one time be homeless
30% receive some type of public assistance
37% become incarcerated
Over 40% will become involved with drugs or are alcoholics

May is an opportune time to highlight the hundreds of ways individuals, churches, schools, libraries, scout troops, civic and social organizations, businesses and government can help support these children, youth and families. I hope it will encourage you to Change a Life by:

Sharing your hearts
Opening your homes as foster parents
Offering your help youth in foster care.
Declare May as “Foster Care Month”

How You May Participate in Foster Care Month:

Wear a “Blue Ribbon” during May in support of National Foster Care Month and help organize or attend a ribbon tying ceremony to advocate on behalf of children in foster care in your community or state.

Write your Governor and Mayor requesting they proclaim May as “Foster Care Month” in your state and community.

Organize a Candlelight Vigil in remembrance of those children who have been abused, neglected or died while in out of home care.

Collect “Teddy Bears” to donate to your local police and fire departments as well as social services departments to soothe children in a time a crisis.

Create “Love Packs” for children living in foster care homes, group homes or other institutional care. (IE: hygiene items, and age appropriate toys, school supplies, story books and a teddy bear)

Organize a drive to collect suitcases and duffel bags as many foster children are moved a number of times while in care, usually their possessions in black plastic garbage bags donate suitcases & duffel bags to foster care agencies so children might move with a little bit of dignity.

Conduct a drive for goods that will assist a youth aging out of the system to get started in life on their own. (IE: alarm clocks, bedding, tools, towels and basic house wares)

Have an “Event Day” for children in foster care (IE: Sports, Zoo, Picnic or Museum Day).

Conduct a creative writing/poster campaign for school children on the subject of Children in Foster Care.

Learn more about how policy, legislative and budget priorities affect children and youth in foster care. Learn the facts about foster care and gain a better understanding of the needs of those touched by foster care. Advocate for reform of the child welfare system so “in the best interest of the child” becomes a reality to the children and youth in care.

Have a “Capital Day” in your state to educate legislatures of the need to reform the child welfare system as many children should NOT be in care in the first place.

Conduct a letter writing campaign to the news media, government officials and others of the plight of children living without parents.

Organize a “Step Out for Kids Walkathon” to raise awareness and funds to assist those children and youth in care. Sometimes, tangible items can have tremendous impact on a young life. Foster youth often lack the funds to pay for an after-school computer class, musical instruments, sports participation or art supplies. Items that most of us would consider basics, such as school backpacks or supplies for a science fair entry, also may be out of reach. Cost of donating to nonprofits benefiting foster youth: A tax-deductible contribution to fit your budget.

Become a “Mentor” or “Tutor” to a child or youth in foster care. By becoming a mentor or tutor you will give foster youth reliable support from someone who holds high expectations for them and encourages them to see a better life for themselves. To mentor or tutor a foster youth not only benefits the recipient, but it is also one of the most rewarding endeavors in life, showing a young person that you care and can be relied upon, even through challenging times. Cost of mentoring or tutoring youth: An hour or two of your time each week. Research shows that children and youth with mentors earn higher grades and improve relationships with friends and families. They also have a better opportunity of success when they age out of the system.

Make a financial contribution to programs and agencies attempting to enrich the lives of children and youth in care.

Have a “Speakers Campaign” to make presentations to your faith-based congregation, civic group, school, PTA and other associations to educate and encourage your community to come together to find families and resources that help young people in foster care thrive.

Businesses have the ability to offer foster youth a life-changing opportunity as well. By hiring young people living in foster care and training them for successful careers, employers provide foster youth with a critical start toward a lifetime of self-sufficiency. Cost of offering and promoting jobs or internships for youth in foster care: Insignificant!

Most important of all, for those children who may not be able to remain with or return safely to their birth families, thousands are needed to open their homes and their hearts and become full-time foster or adoptive parents. The lasting commitment that results from creating a new home is one that can be pursued by couples, married or unmarried, single people and partners. Cost of creating a new, loving family by parenting abused, abandoned and neglected children: Priceless! Contact your local private or state child care agency to see how you may become a foster or adoptive parent.

Many people have asked me how they can become involved in making the foster care system a better one for the children and youth as well as for the foster parents since I was once a foster child. The snapshot of ideas above gives everyone an opportunity to do exactly that.

Yes, the ideas may take time, effort and funds, however, remember these children and youth are our future. As said early in this article; “We can Change a Life NOW one at a time or we will pay the price of their and our failure later.

It is up to US!

Give foster youth full access to Affordable Care Act

Anyone working with youth who may be aging out of care should be supportive on this issue as it greatly concerns health care being available to youth aging out of the system:
Rep. Karen Bass (D-Calif.) and Rep. Jim McDermott (D-Wash.) serve as  co-chairs of the Congressional Caucus on Foster Youth.

This month marks the third anniversary since the Affordable Care Act was  signed into law by President Barack Obama. Despite the ongoing partisan rancor  surrounding the bill’s implementation, there is at least one provision Congress  should be able to find common ground around: making sure we protect the ability  of young adults to remain on their parents’ health care plans until they reach  age 26. Millions of young adults already are benefiting from this provision as  they work to get themselves established either through continuing their  educations or landing a job.

But when it comes to the thousands of foster youth who age out of the  foster-care system each year, the guarantee of affordable health insurance until  they are able to get on their feet with gainful employment could be in jeopardy  if the Centers for Medicare & Medicaid doesn’t take the broadest  interpretation of the law and ensure all states cover former foster youth until  age 26.

Almost 30,000 young people age out of foster care every year,  having never been adopted or reunified with their birth parents. The fact that  they age out is our failure as a government, and we should not compound that  problem by inadvertently denying them access to the same health care  opportunities as any other young adult would receive under the Affordable Care  Act.

Foster youth who age out are statistically more likely to experience  homelessness and incarceration and to lack health care. They face higher rates  of physical and mental health challenges, sometimes due in part to trauma early  in life. These facts make it all the more important that we guarantee all  eligible foster-care alumni access to quality health coverage.

Foster youth shouldn’t be treated any differently as they transition from the  foster-care system into adulthood — but if we aren’t careful, that’s exactly  what could happen.

The CMS proposed regulation requires states to enroll eligible foster youth  in Medicaid to age 26 only if they remain living in the state where they were in  foster care and enrolled in Medicaid. Although the draft regulation provides  states with the option of extending Medicaid to youth who move to their state,  it does not require it. That may leave foster youth in limbo when it comes to  their ability to access these benefits under the Affordable Care Act.

While CMS should be applauded for striving to achieve health parity for  foster youth, requiring those youth to remain living in the state where they  were in foster care presents an unnecessary burden on the backs of those already  carrying the heaviest load.

No residency requirement exists for the young people who receive health  coverage through their parents’ plans and no such requirement should exist for  foster youth. That was Congress’s intent, and we must do everything to ensure  this mission is carried out.

As written, this regulation could limit youth from seeking a variety of  opportunities, including a college education, a new job and living closer to  family members.

Especially in states within close proximity, such as the  Washington-Maryland-Virginia area, it is very likely that young foster care  alumni could move to nearby states. Former foster youth, many who have unique  physical and mental health needs, should not be forced to choose between health  care and moving to a new state with promising educational, economic or social  opportunity.

Already, allowing young adults to receive coverage through their parents’ plans to age 26 has allowed for more than 3 million young people to have health  care coverage while they pursue their dreams and get on their feet. Foster youth  deserve the same opportunities, particularly given all that they must overcome  in reaching their full potential.

To achieve true parity for foster youth, CMS will need to clarify the  congressional intent of this specific provision by issuing a final rule that  ensures states provide Medicaid benefits to age 26 for all eligible foster youth  residing within a state at any time, regardless of whether they grew up in that  state’s foster-care system or recently moved to the state.

Doing so gives foster youth the same flexibility with their health care  choices as any other young adult.

Congress and foster youth advocates should strongly urge the Department of  Health and Human Services to issue a final rule that protects foster youth and  provides them with the very same opportunities Congress intended to give all  young adults when it passed the Affordable Care Act.



After years of separation, 32-year-old man to be adopted

This story on CNN.COM impacted me quite a bit as I read it. I know how he felt over those years of separation from the family he wanted so much.

Unless you have experienced you do not know the impact such as his experience can impact you.

I was in care from the day of my birth until I aged out at 18. During those years I was moved 15 times. Three of those times was being returned to one particular family for periods of 6 months, 2 years & 4 1/2 years. This family attempted to adopt me each time I was placed with them. First they were denied because it felt their being in their 40s was too old. Second, their bio son & his wife attemoted to adopt but were denied because he was Catholic & she Lutheran ( was was with Cathoilic Chairities). The parents attemoted to then adopted me when placed with them for 4 plus years but were denied with no reason ever given. A few weeks later I was removed from them for the final time.

Despite being moved the final time I continued to stay in contact with them and always considered them Mom & Dad no matter what the system said. Dad died in 1975 and Mom in 1983.

I always yearned for a family I could call my own but it was never to be, however all these years later I still call them my Mom & Dad.


Here is the story from CNN.COM:


(CNN) — A boyhood wish is finally about to come true. But Maurice Griffin had to wait until he was a man for it to happen.

At age 32, the California man is about to be adopted.

“It has to happen,” Griffin said. “I didn’t fight for all those years for no reason.”

Adopting the burly, muscular, mohawk-sporting man is Lisa Godbold, his one-time foster mother.

“I just feel like this makes it official,” Godbold said. “And we don’t have to keep explaining it now.”

Good time

The story dates to the early 1980s, when Godbold and her husband saw Griffin at an orphanage near their Sacramento home. The smiling child seemed to fit perfectly with their family.

“Interracial relationships weren’t as common or accepted as they are today and the fact that Maurice was biracial. And we were a biracial family made us a great profile. So to speak,” Godbold said.

In addition, Griffin got along well with the couple’s other children, two boys younger than him.

“We were best friends,” Griffin said. “We’d run around, we did mischievous things and fun things. It was a good time.”

The good time lasted for years — until Griffin was 13 — and was two months away from being officially adopted by the family.

Family ripped apart

One day, foster care officials took Griffin away, saying he could not live with Godbold’s family anymore.

The whole issue came from a dispute over whether they could spank him, according to Godbold.

“You can’t spank foster children. Maurice very much wanted that,” Godbold said. “We wanted him to feel like the rest of our kids. And there was a difference of opinion with some of the (child welfare) supervisors.”

Godbold said she fought to keep Griffin and was told she could lose her biological children.

CNN contacted the state agency responsible for the case, but its officials would not comment because it’s still considered a juvenile case.

So she had to let go. And as time moved on Griffin, says he lost touch with what he felt was his only family.

“It was just an emptiness,” he said. “I couldn’t talk to anybody about it because nobody was there. I couldn’t call somebody; there was just a void in me.”

Searching for each other

Despite several obstacles, they never stopped searching for one another.

Godbold’s husband died in 1998. She remarried and changed her last name, and moved. Griffin bounced from one foster home to another, never finding what he lost.

“I didn’t let anybody get close to me again,” Griffin said, holding back tears. “I hurt a lot of people. It was a rough road.”

But six years ago, Godbold found Griffin on social media. They communicated online and then one day she called him.

“She said, ‘hey baby,’ and I said I got to call you back,” Griffin said, trying to explain how overwhelmed he was by the reunion.

And now the two are heading to a San Diego courtroom Friday, to put their family back together.

A juvenile court.

What is Foster Care Like?


I don’t think I need say anymore!Click on photo to get the full picture and words.


Daughter finds biological mother a few days before Christmas

A heartwarming Christmas story for those who have searched for their birth family:

By: Tracy Frank, Fargo Forum December 25, 2012

Pam Miller, of Fargo, spent more than 30 years looking for her biological mother before she finally found her, three days before Christmas in 2010.

“It was truly a Christmas miracle,” said Laura Faye Bobo, Miller’s mother, who lives in Ohio.

Miller, now 52, endured a difficult childhood, even after her adoption at birth.

Her adoptive mother died when Miller was 5 years old.

When her adoptive father couldn’t take care of her, her adoptive mother’s sister took over custody until she was 15 years old, when Miller went into foster care until age 18.

As an adult, Miller spent countless hours in libraries looking at newspapers and phone books for any clues that might lead to her biological family.

All Miller knew was that her mother’s first name was Faye, her last name might have been something like Clemens, and she lived somewhere in Ohio.

She spent a lot of time calling people who would just hang up.

Eventually she stopped.

“I came to peace with myself that it probably would never happen,” Miller said. “I had spent years looking, and I just figured it would never happen, so I just moved on.”

But after she had a family of her own and her daughter, Presley, who is now 20, developed medical problems, Miller started looking again, this time needing information on her medical background in addition to wanting to find her parents.

She contacted the hospital in St. Louis where she’d been born and the courthouse to try to get the adoption records opened.

Both resulted in dead ends.

She started and stopped her search a few times over the years.

Then a couple of years ago when Miller was looking for Presley’s birth certificate, she came across a box of get well cards addressed to her first adoptive mother.

She started searching the cards, looking for clues and decided on a whim to type her first adoptive mother’s name into Google to see what popped up.

It was late on Dec. 21, 2010, when Miller came across a notice on that said: “I am searching for my birth daughter, her name was Pamela Jean Hubbs, adoptive parents were John and Viola Hubbs of St. Louis, Missouri.”

It had been posted Oct. 20 of that year, the day after Miller’s 50th birthday.

“I was crying,” Miller said. “I was a wreck and didn’t know what to do.”

She immediately called her oldest daughter, who was at a friend’s house.

“I got a phone call from my mom and she was bawling,” Presley Wanner said. “My stomach just dropped.”

When Miller told her daughter that she had found her mother, Wanner started crying, too.

“I was just blown away,” Wanner said.

Miller clicked on the reply button on the notice and wrote: “My name is Pamela Jean Miller Hubbs. I know that I’m your daughter,” she said.

She added where she was born and her adoptive parents’ names and hit send.

“I was sick to my stomach,” she said. “I was nervous, excited, but apprehensive. I didn’t know what to think.”

Miller said she didn’t sleep all night, and when she checked her email at 6 the next morning, she had a message from her sister, Karen, whom she didn’t know existed until that moment.

Karen had posted the notice to help her mother find Miller.

“It was the most wonderful thing that happened,” Bobo said. “I had been trying to find her for about 50 years.”

Bobo, who said she never wanted to give her daughter up for adoption, said she wrote letters and never got answers back. She said the court told her they would release all of the adoption information when her daughter turned 18, but they never did.

“You don’t know how much I suffered in those 50 years,” Bobo said. “I cried all the time. I always cried on her birthday.”

“There was a piece of my heart that was missing,” Bobo said. “After we found her, I felt like my heart was back. I can’t really explain it. When I left St. Louis and left her there, I left a piece of my heart there. I’m very excited and happy that she’s in our lives. I didn’t think we could ever find her.”

It took Miller a little while before she could call her mom, she said.

“I don’t know why,” she said. “These people were like total strangers, but yet, they were my family.”

Miller and her sister emailed back and forth, exchanging information and family photos.

“It was like we’d always been sisters,” Miller said.

She learned she had seven siblings, and she flew to Ohio to meet them and her mom a few weeks later.

When she arrived, there was a huge party at her mother’s house with a big cake that read, “Welcome home.”

“I hugged her and we were crying,” Bobo said. “She just acted like she was at home. It was amazing. I just felt like I knew her.”

Miller stayed about a week, spending time getting to know the family she never knew she had.

Her mother also identified Miller’s father, a man with which Bobo was no longer in contact. Several months later, Miller started looking for him.

She found two listings for a Dewey White in Arkansas. She guessed which one was likely her father and called the number.

When a man answered, Miller asked if he had ever known a woman named Faye Cremeans.

“He said, ‘I most certainly did,’ ” Miller said.

She then told him she was his daughter.

“She said, well thank God, I found my father,” White said. “I didn’t know what to think.”

White said he was shocked, but he was happy. He knew he had a daughter somewhere, but never knew where to look or how to find her, he said.

Miller then visited him, too. They got along well and have a close relationship now, White said.

“I just love her a whole lot,” he said. “It seems like I’ve known her forever.”

Miller still keeps in close contact with both sides of her new-found family and says she feels a sense of peace.

“I have that feeling that I belong somewhere now,” she said.

Removing the Barriers to Higher Education for Homeless and Foster Youth

This is an article written by Sam Bracken on June 14, 20012 for the Huffington Post, Sam is a former foster youth. His story s inspiring how he overcame and how he is now helping other:

At this time of year we hear heartwarming stories about homeless kids who manage to graduate from college. Those kids are few and far between.

Although many states have programs in place where youth in foster care who graduate on time and with decent grades are supposed receive support to go on to college, fewer than 3 percent of kids who have been in foster care make it into college. Of those who do manage to get accepted into college, only about 3 percent successfully graduate with degrees.

I know firsthand many of the barriers homeless kids and youth from foster care face in education. I was one of those invisible kids — sexually abused, randomly beaten by my parents and stepsiblings. My role models were mobsters and motorcycle gang members in Las Vegas. I suffered every kind of abuse imaginable at the hands of those charged with keeping me safe. I was wrongly in special education classes until a caring teacher figured out when I was 13 that I just needed glasses.

By age 15, I was homeless. Worried about losing my spot on the football team, I kept my homelessness a secret from my high school and couch surfed. I juggled football and track practices, jobs and homework and graduated number 11 out of a class of 700 students.

Then a miracle happened.

I earned a full-ride football scholarship to Georgia Institute of Technology where Coach Bill Curry was in his first year as head coach. When I flew from Las Vegas to Atlanta, everything I owned fit in an orange duffel bag. Georgia Tech officials had no idea they were getting a homeless teen. Lucky for me, the university had instituted its “total person program,” which meant that athletes got training on every aspect of being a well-rounded individual.

Even with the support that came with being a student athlete, I often struggled. During every college break, I had to contend with the possibility of being homeless again and worry about where I would eat and sleep since the dorms and cafeteria were closed. I had no one to turn to pay for incidentals, and NCAA rules made it illegal for me to get help from alums. No one in my family had graduated from college, so being in school was like landing in a foreign country where I didn’t understand the language or the currency.

After a very successful freshman year on the field and in the classroom, I had what I was told were career-ending shoulder injuries. When I woke up from surgery, Coach Curry was by my bedside, and told me he didn’t care whether I played football again — my scholarship was safe. Then he said words I’ll never forget: “I care about you, Sam.”

That was the first time in my life I had ever felt loved. I re-earned a starting position on the team, and contributed to one of Georgia Tech’s most winning teams. When I hit an emotional wall my junior year stemming from my traumatic past, the coaching staff made sure I got professional help. Thanks to academic tutoring, I was on academic scholarships my last two years at Georgia Tech.

Despite the obstacles and thanks to many mentors, I graduated with honors.

More than 30 years later, I am saddened that shockingly little has changed in terms of helping our most vulnerable teens gain access to higher education. They face all kinds of barriers–from an outdated paper voucher system that allows them to take the ACT/SAT or waive college application fees to contending with homelessness during school breaks to being suspended from classes because the state fails to pay a tuition bill on time. Homeless teens and those in foster care rarely graduate on time from high school, because their high school transcripts get so fouled up from being moved so often.

Among youth in foster care nationally, fewer than 50 percent graduate high school. The rate among homeless teens hasn’t been measured, but I suspect it’s worse than that. Yet a recent survey showed that 90 percent of all jobs now require a high school diploma or GED.

I know all of this from working with kids as co-founder and national spokesperson of the Orange Duffel Bag Foundation (ODBF), a 501c3 nonprofit that does professional coaching on life plans with at-risk kids ages 12-24. I recently met a 15-year-old who has been through 39 placements, including 17 different foster homes. He’s an A student, but I can only imagine what his transcripts must look like. Another young man in Columbus, Ohio, found out he was one-half credit shy of graduating. His caseworker failed to submit his application in time for the full-ride he would have had at Ohio State University. His caseworker dropped him at the local men’s homeless shelter the day after he was supposed to graduate.

A staggering 70 percent of the people in our prisons report having been in foster care or homeless shelters as children. Ironically, the cost of incarcerating a youth for a year equals the amount it would take for a year of education at many of our best colleges and universities.

We cannot afford as a nation to overlook the educational needs of our most vulnerable young people. As part of the Atlanta-based Community Youth Opportunity Initiative designed to help youth in foster care, ODBF recently met with the leadership committee of the Georgia Board of Regents to present ideas about how to help break down the barriers that are currently preventing them from scaling the ivy walls. Most expressed shock and concern about the labyrinth these young people, who frequently don’t have one single caring adult to advocate for them, are expected to navigate.

Let’s tear down some walls and break the cycle of generational poverty that many of our young people face.


Foster Care Alumni Need to Reach Out to Other Alumni & Youth in Care Today!

I’d like to share a story with you. It’s about a little boy, but it could as easily be about a little girl. Picture the following in your mind:

A baby boy has just been born. He should be wrapped in his loving mother’s arms with her scent all about him and with family gathering full of joy at his birth. But he doesn’t feel those loving arms nor hear the sounds of joy. The smells are those of a hospital ward. He is moved from one nursery to another. He is alone. Days, weeks and months pass…the calendar moves toward his first birthday…yet he still remains alone!

Finally at fourteen months of age he hears someone…a stranger…calling his name. Someone is picking him up and saying “they are taking him home.”

Years pass. He has heard strangers repeat his name and say “Pack your bag…you are leaving!” ten different times…he is only six years old. Each time he has heard it, he has just begun to make friends…now they are gone. He begins to feel comfortable where he is…now it’s time to move again.

Each move has brought him to unfamiliar surroundings and people. Each time he has had to pack his “brown grocery paper bag” with all his worldly possessions.

No one has yet called him Son…he is only called by his first name. He hears he is a foster child for the first time. He hears the word “bastard” in relation to him as well. He is also called names that cannot be repeated here.

No one loves him. He doesn’t belong wherever he has gone. He is treated differently than others. No one wants him. He has no permanent home. He walks home from school to his temporary home slowly, having developed a fear that it may no longer be his home when he gets there.

He suddenly finds himself in a home where things are different. He is treated with love. He is treated as part of the family. He starts to lose his fear of leaving school to go home. He is getting comfortable where he is at. He is in this home one year, two years, three years. He believes he has finally found a home. He has made and kept friends for longer than a few months. He passes a fourth year; he is half way through another year.

He arrives home from school one day and sees a stranger in the house. He slows down going up the walkway and begins to tremble. He sees the one he loves and calls MOM crying. He now knows that stranger in the room is a case worker from Catholic Charities. He goes to his Mom to hold her…to cry with her. He knows what this means. He packs his “paper bag” once again. Carrying it, he slowly is walking out of the house he has known for four and one half years as home. He looks back as he is slowly driven away…he knows in his heart he won’t be back to live here again.

He learns much later in life that this foster family, as well as their son and his wife, each attempted to adopt him…not once or twice, but thrice. Those responsible for making the decision each time gave a resounding NO! He is told the foster parents are denied because of age, though they are only in their mid 40s. The son and his wife are denied because she is not of the proper “Faith” for him to be raised in.

He has been placed in a juvenile detention center with young men who have committed every imaginable crime. His only crime is he has no parents or home to call his own. He is the youngest boy on the block, as well as the smallest. He is forced to learn how to fight quickly, he is savagely sexually abused. Feeling despair and worthless he attempts suicide. His bed is a thin mattress on the floor, as the block is overcrowded. He lives here for over two months while yet another temporary home is found for him.

He is in a strange place once again. He is in a new school. He has no friends. He is treated as a stranger at this place. He is not a part of this family. He is forced to eat alone. He is given but one meal a day which forces him to steal from classmates lunches to lessen his hunger pangs.

He does not sleep in the house, but on the unheated back porch. He is only allowed in the main portion of the house to use the bathroom.

Christmas comes…the only gifts he receives are the clothes that were given him by the St. Vincent de Paul Society a week earlier, as his semiannual clothing allotment. There is nothing from this family for him under the tree.

Months pass. He is told to “pack his bag.” They are coming for him in the morning. He is being moved yet again…and he doesn’t know where he is going.

He is asleep this last night, when suddenly he is jolted awake. Before him stands another person…exposing himself. He intends to have the boy remember his last night in this house. He screams out in terror. He lashes every way possible. He hears someone coming, asking, “What is going on?” He tells his story, but is not believed. He is told, “You no good, ungrateful, lying little bastard! No wonder no one wants you! Get your bag and get your ass out of this house!” He hears and feels the hard slap and sting of a hand across his reddened face. He is forced to sit on the outside stoop in the cold night, to await them coming to get him in the morning.

He is picked up. He is on a plane for the first time in his life and doesn’t know where he is being taken. The person taking him is not speaking to him. He lands in a place he has never heard of and has no idea where he is…only that he has been moved again.

You have been reading this for just a few minutes. In those few minutes this young boy has been moved fourteen times. He has been moved from the only place he considered home and the people he loved. He has made friends and lost them. He has changed schools. He has been made to feel a part of a family and as a stranger. He has been brutally sexually assaulted. He has at age ten attempted suicide. He is alone again.

These few minutes you have been reading this has actually been the course of the first eleven years of this young boy’s life.

Can you imagine how this young boy felt! If you have lived within the system you know the adjectives.

By age eleven system has already determined this young boy a failure and moved him to an orphanage out of state to let him be someone else‘s problem. They expect him to age out of the system and to join the ranks that statistics show he will continue to be a failure throughout his life.

At age eleven this young boy already reached a major crossroad in his young life. After fourteen moves, others making decisions about his life amongst other things; he faced a choice. He could whine about his childhood, accept others already declaring him a failure and proceed in that manner or he could assume responsibility for his own life, set goals & expectations and do all that was necessary to achieve them.

Cards were dealt at birth. Rather than being dealt a royal flush he was dealt maybe a pair of twos and told to play it the best he possibly could as he could not throw any cards away and hope for a better hand. He, with the help of others along the way, was ultimately responsible for how the game turned out. He could whimper and whine and just say deal me out or he could somehow attempt to make that pair of twos look like a royal flush…the choice was his and his alone.

He chose not to take the already crowded road of whining nor accept what others had already determined about him. He was going to make something of himself not because of the system but rather despite it. He began setting goals for himself and charting the course necessary to achieve them.

Over the years he wanted to graduate high school…he achieved that. He wanted to obtain a college degree…he achieved that. He wanted to become a public speaker…he achieved that speaking to audiences of as few of twenty to as many as five thousand, including three international conferences. He wanted to  found foundations to help other youth…he achieved that starting two foundations as well as serving as Executive Director of another foundation and currently serving on the Board of Directors for an international foundation today. He also wanted to be a writer…he achieved that by authoring two books, writing a number of articles for newspapers & magazines as well as today maintaining a well visited web site and blog. He has goals he is still reaching to achieve.

Bear in mind life has dealt him many setbacks along the way, but he learned at an early age to view them as opportunities and know that no matter how bad things seemed to be….they could be worse, as it is for some.

Within every person there is a rose. These qualities planted in us at birth grow amid the thorns of our faults. He, in early life, had looked at himself and saw only the thorns; the defects. He despaired, thinking that nothing good can possibly come from him. He neglected to water the good within him when he was very young, and eventually that good could have died. He might never realize his potential and see the rose within himself had he not been forced to at age eleven.

The card game of life is yet to be completed, but no matter where the winding road of life may yet take him he believes victory has already been won!

Why do I share this story with you?

I want all foster youth and foster care alumni to realize you do not need to accept what others tell you about you, you can overcome any negative caused to you while in the foster care system. I won’t say the road will be an easy one. The road will require determination and hard work as well as overcoming stumbles along the way. I also want  foster care alumni who have overcome to realize they have an obligation to help others within the system today as well as those who have aged out but yet still struggle on their road of life. Those still struggling to overcome need to also help those in the system as by helping others you will also be helping yourself! The statistics of failure that run rampant amongst foster care alumni must be changed!

One of the greatest gifts a person can possess is to be able to reach past the thorns and find the rose within another. This is the characteristic of love, to look at a person, and knowing his/her faults, recognize the nobility in their soul, and help them realize that they can overcome their faults. If we show them the rose, they will conquer the thorns. Then will they blossom, blooming forth thirty, sixty, a hundred-fold as it is given to them. This is the challenge to all who have gone through the foster care system. They must realize their full potential and also let those still within the system know theirs!

There are many ways one can do this. You can join national organizations whose mission is to advocate for youth in care or connect them with alumni as mentors. One such organization is Foster Care Alumni or America ( ). You can join local organizations whose mission is to make life a little better while youth remain in care. You can mentor a foster youth, especially one where the system has decided will age out of it. There are so many groups out there just waiting for volunteers to walk through the door…be the one! Each must help youth in care avoid many of the struggles they may have had while in care or avoid the pitfalls encountered after care. I say again; as one helps others we will help ourselves!

May is National Foster Care month. Though it would be good for one to get involved any day or month of the year, if you are not involved as yet then May is a good time to start. Over 450,000 current foster youth need you, the almost 29,000 who will age out during this year need you. I am sure with over 12 million foster care alumni across the country everyone can find at least one who would love a stretched out hand, a restive shoulder to lean on as they may continue to battle to overcome.

To those who read this and have or will face some crosses and tribulations in your life, please………Remember….when you feel your life’s crosses seem overwhelming…. it helps to look around and see what other people are coping with. Many bear crosses that we can only begin to fathom. There are those with disabilities, some face terminal illness, others live poor or under dictatorships….the list is endless! You may, in the end, consider yourself far more fortunate than you imagined. Whatever your cross…. whatever your pain…. there will always be sunshine after the rain.

The story I shared above is not an imaginary one. It is my story. I share it not to trumpet my own horn but rather to let youth in care or those who have aged out and are having trouble overcoming things endured in their youth before/after care can overcome them.

Yes, I have faced many crosses in my life, I have stumbled and fallen many times trying to carry them. Each time however, I have been able to pick myself up and move a step forward. I will be honest, it has not always been easy nor has it been through my own strength but combined with my own desires, work as well has helping hands of others. There will be crosses for me to bear in whatever life I have remaining…but I will not allow them to overburden or defeat me. I also know that many have far bigger and heavier crosses to me to bear…mine are small and light in comparison. I know if I can do it so can each youth in care today and those who have already aged out…no matter how many years ago you aged out.

It won’t , as I said before “be easy” but if we reach out to each other we can all make it.

People may have failed you in the past, the system may have failed you and there will others along your path who will fail you as has happened to me. All one hopefully can and will do is accept it and move on. But PLEASE….DO NOT ALLOW YOU TO FAIL YOU!!

I now conclude this with a final word of advise for ALL of us: Don’t live in your yesterdays, as they are done and gone. Nothing you did then or others did to you  can be changed. Don’t live for your tomorrow’s for they were never promised to you. Live for TODAY…for today you have complete control over what you do, live it and live it to your fullest potential! Help others to do the same!

A Christmas Prayer, Wish & Gift to All

Dear Family, Friends & Brothers/Sisters of Boys Town~

Today Christmas is less than two weeks away. By now most of us have put up our trees and decorated until they glisten, bought, wrapped and placed under the tree gifts to our family & friends, prepared our Christmas Eve/Day menus.

We are ready to welcome family & friends into our homes to share in the spirit and warmth of the Christmas season.

This is all fine and expected during the holidays.

I do hope each of us will take time to remember the real reason for Christmas. It is to celebrate the birth of Jesus Christ.

As you gather with family & friends I pray that you will not only remember the reason for Christmas but will also remember those families that will have an empty chair at their Christmas table. Remember those families with servicemen and servicewomen who are in harms way to protect us. Most importantly remember those family who will have that empty chair each and every year due to the over 5,500 who have paid the ultimate price for our freedoms in Iraq & Afghan conflicts…whether we agree with the conflicts or not.

Take time to remember those Christmas’s past, cherish the memories as we never know whom we may not have with us as we gather next year.

I know I remember my years at Boys Town and how special they made Christmas for those of us who did not have a family or home to call our own. I remember and cherish memories of the 1st Christmas I was able to enjoy with family I found at 52 years of age with my cousin Carol and her family and the year that followed when I met all my family of the Borysiak side of the family. These are memories I will cherish for a lifetime.

Yes, Christmas time is a time for memories, love, spirit, warmth and joy!

My wish and prayer for each of you who read this is a very Merry, Blessed and Joyful Christmas and a Happy New Year.

Below is a link to a small Christmas present for each of you:

A Christmas Gift to my Family & Friends:

This is a walk through what is now totally Father Flanagan’s home at Boys Town…back in his day it was not only his home but a dorm for the boys, classrooms & chapel.

Peace, Larry~

More FY 2010 Foster Care/Adoption Data

Source: U.S. Department of Health and Human Services
AFCARS data, U.S. Children’s Bureau, Administration for Children, Youth and Families

Because AFCARS data are being continuously updated and cleaned, the numbers reported here may differ from data reported elsewhere in report breakdown. These data reflect all AFCARS submissions by states received by June of 2011.

Adoptions  from foster care   52,340:
married couples…34953, 67%
unmarried couples…1140, 2%
single females…14465, 28%
single males…1392, 3%
10 states with highest # of adoptions from foster care:
CA 6044
TX 4709
FL 3385
MI 2597
PA 2365
NY 2205
AZ 2045
WA 1633
OK 1628
IN 1458
Waiting adoption end of FY 2010 107011:
10 states with highest # “legal orphans” & waiting for adoption:
CA 13396
TX 13111
NY 6603
MI 5236
FL 5011
IN 3092
WA 3089
OH 3011
OK 2872
IL 2844
MA 2758

NOTE: Children 16 years old and older whose parents’ parental  rights have been terminated and who have a goal of emancipation (aging out) have been  excluded from the report.

Data for FY 2011 will not be available until June 2012.


Second Book Available On Line…FREE!

After 2 yrs of procrastinating, 3 days of retyping manuscript & necessary html coding my 2nd book is now available on my web site. You can go to my main web site of and click on cover of 2nd book or go directly to Since they are no longer being published or available at on line stores here is where you can read both books for FREE -:)

My 1st book, “Lost Son” is my personal memior of years in foster care, search & discovery of my birth family, hope & healing.

This 2nd book, “Give Voice to the Voiceless & Forgotten is poetry, articles, stories & possible solutions to reforming CPS,foster care & adoption.

See why I am so passionate about foster care & adoption reform.

A Response to Penn State Scandal

It has taken me over a week since the Penn State scandal broke to attempt to bring my anger under control and attempt to present a reasoned response to it. I will not say some anger may find its way into this blog entry as it remains but I will attempt to keep it under control. I however cannot remain silent!

Adults, no matter the position they hold in society, are to protect our children. Despite what the Pennsylvania “mandate reporting law” states; the adults involved in this story did not do that. They, in a few situations, may have met the letter of the law but they failed in meeting their moral obligations.

I can speak on this subject matter due to my own personal experiences when I was a youth.

I was raped as a youth and had another sexual abuse situation attempted on me. I for years blamed myself for this. It took me over forty years to even share these experiences with anyone because I was ashamed.

When I wrote my first book about my experiences in foster care I didn’t want to share these experiences but knowing I wanted to be as truthful as possible in my writing they had to be shared, though not in graphic detail.

In my book “Lost Son” I shared the following two instances:


“The stability of four years came to sudden end in May, 1960, when I was abruptly removed from the Monshor’s home. I was placed in the Wayne County, Michigan Youth Detention Center. My crime: at age ten I was guilty of not having a family to claim me as their son nor a place to call home.

The Detention Center was to be my home until a new foster home was found. Here I was placed amongst youth offenders who were charged with a wide assortment of crimes. My bed, to start due to overcrowding, would be a thin mattress in the open area of the block.

I am the youngest boy on the block, as well as the smallest. Though I attempted to fight as best I could I was unable to overcome the attacks of older boys. I was repeatedly sexually assaulted.

One day after being assaulted and left naked in a cell, I felt my life was no longer worth living and attempted to hang myself with a belt. I was discovered before the act could be completed and placed in an isolation cell, where I would remain for two months.

Those responsible for the repeated rapes are never charged or held accountable in any manner.”


“On the night of April 15, 1961, I was told to pack my paper bag, and that I would be leaving in the morning. All I could think of was, “Here we go again.”

The final insult of this foster home came on my final night there. Their son, seventeen at the time, came back on the porch late during the night. He nudged me roughly. When I opened my eyes, light was coming through the porch windows so I could see him. He was standing over me, exposing himself, close to my mouth saying, “Take care of this for me.” I remember kicking out at him and then wailing away at him. I hit him everywhere I possibly could creating noises as he crashed into things. All the time I was yelling to arouse the rest of the house.

Finally his Mother came out to see what was going on. I yelled out, with tears rolling down my face, “He tried to force himself on me sexually.” He called me a liar and said he was just checking on me.

His Mother believed him and not me. She said, “You are a rotten no good for nothing boy, a dirty little boy, a liar. No wonder no one wanted me as I wasn’t fit to have anyone to want me. Good thing you will soon be out of our house, you ungrateful little bastard.” At least she got the bastard part correct.

I sat there in stunned silence with what I heard, while crying now uncontrollably. Then I had my chance. I stood up and decked her son. I got a good hit in as I knocked out one of his front teeth…not bad for a scrawny eleven year old.

I was so ashamed of what had happened that  night that I did not share it with the social worker. I have not shared it with anyone as I have remained ashamed until now…forty plus years later.

I always felt I needed to keep it as my dark, dirty secret. As I thought of writing this chapter, I finally came to realize I was not the guilty party that night, I was the victim and thus could now forgive myself and let it go. I still obviously remember that woman’s final words to me. I still shudder when I think of this foster home.”

I share these situations to help you realize how a victim of sexual abuse may respond or not respond to it. The depth of the negative feelings one goes through as well as it may take years before they are able to share it with anyone.

I am sure victims of the Penn State situation could very much identify with what I felt when this happened to me.

In the case of the very graphic incident of 2002 in the football locker room showers it was not abuse that occurred…it was rape it was a felony crime! It was witnessed and yet the police were not called.

The Pennsylvania law does not mandate the average citizen report the above described case to be reported to authorities but rather it be reported up their immediate chain of command on the job. Only seventeen of the fifty states makes it a crime to not report abuse of a child to the authorities. This has to change!

Various officials at Penn Stated failed the youth that were sexually abused. In a few of the cases that have been detailed there were actual witnesses yet they failed to even attempt to stop the abuse they witnessed but only told their immediate superiors of the events.

How the victims must have felt knowing someone could have rescued them but did not!

I feel nothing but contempt for those witnesses who failed these youth!

Though the officials at Penn State are not required under their current laws to notify authorities when they were informed how could they not feel their moral obligation. How could they basically wipe their hands of the matter after they were informed feeling they had met the letter of the law and that was the end of it.

Abuse of a child is despicable! For one to not act to protect a child when they see abuse happening to a child is despicable! For those who are informed that child abuse has happened to not report it to proper authorities is despicable!

I can only hope and pray that those who were abused have or will soon find a way to heal, to realize it was not their fault but rather the fault of the one who abused them. It is my hope that their lives have not already been completely destroyed.

It is time that ALL fifty states pass a law to make it mandatory that whoever witnesses or has reasonable suspicion abuse is happening to a child MUST report it to law officials.  If the states will not do this then the federal government must. This law must be the same in all fifty states. We must protect our youth!!

We can never allow a situation such as Penn State, the Catholic Church (I am Catholic), to ever happen again!

A dying man’s race to adopt

This story needs no commentary from me as it speaks for itself….except have tissues ready!

By ALLEN G. BREED – AP National Writer | AP – Sat, Sep 24, 2011

SHARON, S.C. (AP) — With everything she had to do that morning, Marshall McClain could not believe his wife was wasting time making the bed.

“What are you doing?” he gasped from the brown recliner where he spent his nights.

Tracey McClain was killing time, waiting for the lawyer’s call, waiting to hear whether the adoption was a go and 11-month-old Alyssa would finally be theirs.

Alyssa’s mother had long since given her consent, but attorney Dale Dove hadn’t been in a particular hurry to locate the biological father. In the case of absentee fathers, he told the McClains, the longer the child can bond with the prospective parents before an adoption notice is filed, the better.

“Time is your friend,” Dove had said.

But time had suddenly become the enemy.

An infection raged through the 61-year-old Army veteran’s withered, 115-pound frame, and the intravenous antibiotics couldn’t keep up. Doctors said he had just a couple of days.

But the man who’d survived 60 combat missions in Vietnam had one more task to complete. He wanted to give his name to the little girl who’d been the light of his life these past six months. More importantly, he wanted Alyssa to have the right to collect his benefits after he died.

During the past few days, Dove and others moved heaven and earth to make the adoption happen. An opening had suddenly occurred in the judge’s docket, and Tracey was scrambling to get herself and Alyssa ready and over to Rock Hill, about 40 minutes away.

By the time Tracey returned to the bedroom to say goodbye, the hospice nurse had arrived.

Even with the oxygen tube at his nose, Marshall’s breathing was labored. He was unable to speak, but his eyes were open, and Tracey knew he could understand her as she leaned down to kiss him.

“I love you,” she said. “I’ll be back.”


Tracey and Marshall McClain’s life wasn’t perfect — but it was pretty darned close.

They’d met on the job. He was a long-haul truck driver, and she — 17 years his junior — was his dispatcher.

Married on New Year’s Day 1994, they started their own trucking company a year later. Over the next 16 years, they’d built their Charlotte, N.C., business from five tractor-trailers to a fleet of 32 owner-operators.

The couple constructed a spacious three-story house on 33 wooded, northwest South Carolina acres that they shared with three racking horses — Rudy, Hunter and Little Girl — and a pair of goats named Thelma and Louise.

Each had a grown child from a previous marriage. Marshall’s daughter, Amy Lane, lived about three hours away in Summerton; Danielle, Tracey’s girl, lived with them. If there was any diaper changing in their future, they figured it would be for their first grandchild, who was on the way.

But all that changed one Sunday morning last fall, when an 18-year-old stranger walked through the doors at Sanctuary Hills Church of God of Prophecy.

The 2-month-old girl in her arms was pale and spitting up. The young mother appeared distraught.

“I’m not sleeping,” she said. “She’s not sleeping.”

One of the women in the nursery offered to take the baby home for a while. The mother agreed without hesitation.

The McClains added mother and baby to their prayer list, but that was the extent of their involvement — until early January.

The church friend told Tracey that Alyssa had been hospitalized for breathing trouble and dehydration. When Alyssa was ready to be released, the friend asked if the McClains could keep her for the night.

After they got her home, a winter storm hit. By the time the snow had melted off, the McClains were in love.

The mother already had a 3-year-old son. She wasn’t ready to be a mother of two.

“Alyssa … has been passed around to several families that mom did not know much about,” a social worker wrote. The mother “has not bonded with Alyssa.”

On Jan. 28, social services granted the McClains temporary custody. Less than a week later, the mother signed away her parental rights.


About two years ago, during a family vacation, Marshall became violently ill. His skin turned a sickly yellow, and the already painfully lean trucker began dropping weight.

Over time, Marshall underwent numerous surgeries to clear blockages or take biopsies. He would bounce back after each operation, only to relapse later.

The business was doing well enough that Marshall decided to retire. When Alyssa came along, he was able to devote full time to raising her.

He was the one who, when she awoke crying, declared that she’d just have to cry herself back to sleep. Five minutes later, he was up to comfort her.

He would sit in his recliner and bounce Alli on his leg, singing “Ride the Horsey” or “Jesus Loves Me.” He worked hard to make sure her first word was “Daddy” — and it was.

When Marshall first became ill, doctors feared it was pancreatic cancer, but tests came back negative. In late March, that initial suspicion was confirmed.

He had just started radiation and chemotherapy when physicians discovered abscesses in his liver. They ordered intravenous antibiotics.

Danielle and her fiance, Kevin Susigan, moved their wedding up a year to May 14 so Marshall could walk her down the aisle.

The first week in July, Marshall went to Carolinas Medical Center near Charlotte for some tests to see how the abscesses were responding to the treatment. While he was there, one of them ruptured.

When doctors said there was nothing they could do to halt the spreading infection, Marshall decided to spend his last few days at home, with family. Tracey asked him if he was frightened.

“The only thing I’m scared of is leaving you here with all this responsibility,” he told her. “But, other than that, I’m ready.”


Dove, the lawyer, was on vacation at the beach with his wife. They weren’t scheduled to come home for several days, but something told them to cut their trip short.

He was in his office Friday, July 8, when Tracey called with the news about Marshall.

“Holy cow,” he said. “We need to get this thing DONE.”

Dove’s staff had located Alyssa’s biological father just days earlier. He was at the Moss Justice Center in York, awaiting transfer to prison to begin serving a five-year sentence for drug distribution.

The lawyer had two options.

He could file a notice of adoption proceeding, which would give the father 30 days to respond — days he knew Marshall McClain did not have. Or he could go to the jail and get the man’s consent.

At 8 a.m. the next day, Dove was ushered into a closet-like room with a thick glass partition and a telephone receiver on the wall. On the other side sat a slight young man in an orange jumpsuit.

Dove explained how the McClains had been taking care of Alyssa. He told him of adopting his own daughter 26 years earlier, and what a blessing it had been. Finally, he explained the situation with Marshall McClain, and the need for urgency.

The father — a baby-faced 19-year-old with blond hair like Alyssa’s — was visibly moved. He was leaning toward signing the consent, but demurred: “I don’t know these people.”

“Well,” Dove said. “I can help with that.”

Dove stepped outside and called Tracey McClain. He told her to write a letter introducing herself and Marshall to Alyssa’s father, and to get it there as quickly as possible.

By 1 p.m., Dove was slipping the hastily typed page through the slot at the bottom of the window.

Tracey told the man about Marshall’s service in Vietnam, and about the successful trucking business they had built together. She wrote of their supportive church family, and of the older sisters and cousins who would love and help care for Alyssa.

Tracey promised to send him reports on his daughter’s progress, and to “uphold you in a positive way” to her.

“You would be giving us the greatest gift by allowing us to make Alyssa part of our family,” she wrote.

Tracey had also sent several photos.

“They look like good people,” the young man behind the glass said.

He told Dove he wanted the weekend to think it over. But he didn’t need to wait that long.

Later that day, he sat down with a pen and a piece of yellow legal paper.

He said that he had never known his own father, and was grateful for the McClains’ offer to let him be part of Alyssa’s life. He wanted her — and them — to know that, “Just because I’m locked up doesn’t make me a bad person.”

“The last thing I ever wanted to do was give my daughter away … ,” he wrote. “But you are the parents now and truely have been since the beginning and I have faith in God whatever decisions you make for her will be the best ones.”


Dove was gassing up his truck around 9:30 a.m. Monday, July 11, when his assistant called from the jail with news that the father had signed. He immediately called Family Court Judge David Guyton’s office and explained Marshall’s condition to the judge’s assistant, Sandy Neely.

“Is there ANY possibility for the judge to hear the case?” he pleaded.

She put him on hold. After a short time, she came back and asked if they could be there by 1:45.

“Sure,” he replied.

He immediately called Tracey McClain. He was still on the phone with her when he got a beep.

It was Guyton’s office.

“We JUST had a cancellation,” Neely said. “Can you be here by 11?”

Dove looked at his watch. It was nearing 10, and he was still in his jeans. He would have to get home and change into his suit while his staff drafted the paperwork.

“I’ll probably be a few minutes late,” he warned Neely.

As Dove raced home, it dawned on him that he’d have to make sure Alyssa’s court-appointed guardian would be there. And since Marshall would be unable to attend, he wanted the woman who’d done the home study present to attest to the loving atmosphere in the McClain household.

Miraculously, both were available.

Back in Sharon, Tracey McClain hastily pulled on some slacks and a dress shirt. When Danielle came downstairs with Alli still in her pajamas, she told her to go back and change her into a dress.

Dove reached the court building at 11:09. The hearing did not get under way until 11:31.


With his close-cropped flattop haircut, chiseled features and ramrod straight posture, Guyton looks every inch the Marine captain he once was — and Army National Guard lieutenant colonel he still is. But he has a special place in his heart for adoptions.

Taped to the inside rim of his bench is a photo of his 7-year-old daughter, Hannah Grace. Dove represented the Guytons in the adoption.

For the record, Dove noted that Marshall McClain was not present in the courtroom.

“This adoption, though, is something that he wanted,” he said. “Is that correct?”

“Yes,” Tracey replied as Alyssa let out a yelp. “I believe that’s what he’s holding on for.”

The guardian and other witnesses were quickly called, heard and dismissed. Squirming in a cousin’s lap, Alyssa cooed as the small pendulum clock over the judge’s left shoulder ticked away the minutes.

Toward the end of the hearing, Dove noticed a serious error in the adoption decree. The couple’s name was misspelled “McCalin” throughout.

Breaking with protocol, Guyton allowed Dove to make the corrections by hand.

The hearing ended at 12:05 p.m. Dove wanted to snap a photo of judge and family, but Tracey said she couldn’t wait, and hurried to her car.

A couple of miles out of town, she dialed home. Danielle answered.

“Tell your dad we’ve got her,” the mother said. “I’ll be there in a few minutes.”

Danielle repeated the news to the room. Her sister Amy leaned close to her father’s ear and whispered, “She’s ours.”

McClain’s breathing eased. The muscles in his face relaxed.

The clerk’s stamp on the final decree reads 12:09 p.m. Marshall McClain’s official time of death was 12:17.


A Suggested Gift for a Found Birthparent

Might I make a suggestion? If you find one of your birth parents and a reunion is planned I have an idea for a gift.

When I met my birthmother for the first time at Newark Airport in 1986, I gave her thirty-six red roses; one for each of the thirty-six years of the life she had given me. This is not the gift idea.

During the time of my search I began putting together a scrapbook. The book included pictures of years she had missed, news articles of some of the  accomplishments in my life and a letter about me, why I searched and that I was happy I located her. Photos I was able to share came from age 11 until present as at that time I had no photos of me prior to age 11; I received some only after she passed away. The photos I used was from old Boys Town Times and Boys Town Yearbooks. The news articles also were from the Times, Omaha World Herald, my college newspaper and New York City newspapers. She would be able to see and read of my life from age 11 until 36 when I met her for the first time.

I also made the same book during this time in the event I searched for and found my birthfather.

As I left her suite at the end of our first day together, I gave her “my book” so that she could view/read it privately after I left.

When I met her the next morning she greeted me with tears, a hug and a thank you. Despite how our relationship ended twelve years later, I believe that book is something she treasured for the rest of her life.

She passed away in October 2001.