I’m not sure if I have been this open on a previous post, but here goes.
I know that if my one-year-old daughter disappeared I would search the ends of the earth to find her. When I met my bio family in 1994 we had a joyous reunion at my adoptive parents house. I was 36. My grandmother was 83. For those of you who have had the “reunion” it is the greatest feeling on earth. The house was filled with people. My mom, dad, wife and me. Then “new” people arrived, a grandmother, aunts, uncles, and a cousin. We shared stories of our lives, took pictures, compared eyes and noses, and ate a hearty dinner that mom cooked.
Then came the part about Deborah Kay. My biological family didn’t mean to ruin the party, but they had to express that I had a sister who “disappeared.” I remember how solemn the room grew when they spoke of her. It seemed Deborah Kay was just written off as the daughter who vanished. I did muster the strength to look my grandmother in the eye and asked if she knew anything about what happened to her. She mumbled that she didn’t know anything and that was her full and complete answer.
I do understand every family has tragedies that can be painful or embarrassing to confront or recall. I didn’t interrogate anyone. I was just happy I found my long, lost family. As we all sat in the living room, a few reasons of Deborah’s disappearance were tossed around, like Betty exclaiming a “babysitter stole her” or a “social worker took her.” But it seemed something was left out, like, Why didn’t someone call the police!
As the weeks and months passed, I exchanged letters and telephone calls with my “new” family. Afterwards, I began to revisit the issue of my sister. Why didn’t anyone search for her or ask questions? I understand why no one ever searched for me because I was proclaimed to be stillborn by my birthmother. But Deborah Kay was a child that everyone played with. She was a living person.
Yes, someone knows something.
Of course there may be a family member who is reading my post now, worried a dark secret of the past may be revealed. My intention is not to harm anyone- I just want to know the truth.
My siblings were children. They would not remember anything. Betty’s siblings were young teenagers. I can understand they would have only scant memories. I wonder about my grandmother, who died at the age of 103, but I try to have compassion in understanding that if Betty were as wild and irresponsible as she was, even one’s mother can only do so much.
If anyone out there knows what happened to Deborah Kay, please drop me a clue. Or better yet, please reveal the truth that has been buried for 62 years.