Each of us has a book inside of us and a story to tell. If I ever say we should be thankful I don’t mean we should be thankful just because we were adopted, and we should not be thankful just because society expects us to feel that way. The word “grateful” has become twisted… Continue reading We Must Always Be Thankful
I was born and adopted in Indiana. When I turned eighteen I considered myself an adult. I could buy a pack of cigarettes.I could vote for the President.I could buy a gun. When I turned twenty-one I could go to a bar.I could order a drink.I could get drunk.But I was never allowed to inquire… Continue reading Infant is my name
This is my childhood home in New Albany, Indiana. In the summertime the hot sun would blaze behind the house where I would sit on concrete steps and squint into the sky. Gray paint would always flake off the steps like dried flower petals. As golden rays soaked into my bare chest I would try… Continue reading Concrete Gray Steps
I'm also a time traveler! Yes. I can show you how to be that, too. When you go out at night and see a beautiful star, did you know that you're looking into the past? Because the star is so far away that it takes million of years for the light of the star to… Continue reading Time Traveler
October, 1957. This pregnant lady is the birthmother I have never known. The amazing thing is realizing that I am growing in her womb, and that I was born four months after this photo was taken. I was never told as child , "You came from mommy's tummy." For so many years, I thought a… Continue reading Inside the Womb
This photo was taken when my birthmother married her second husband, Kenneth Synder. The back of the photo says, "October 23, 1958. When we got married in Carmel (Indiana) at night." This was eight months after I was put up for adoption, and about a year after my two-year-old sister, Debra Kay Price, mysteriously disappeared.… Continue reading My Birthmother’s Second Husband
12-29-1951. My birthmother, Betty Stewart, marries her first husband, Carl Price. Betty was 16 years old. Carl was 26. My sister, Deborah Kay Price, was born 12-5-1955. Betty and Carl divorced 9-15-1955. Debra Kay disappeared before her first birthday. What happened to her?
I am Michael Crit Price in this document. My birthmother never officially named me. I was named Michael Crit Watson by my adoptive parents. To this day, I am not supposed to have access to this document. I begged a judge for it and he finally gave this me when I was 22 years old.… Continue reading Adoption Court Summary. PG. 2/3.
In 1993, shortly after I had decided to rebuild my life in California, six of my friends came over for refreshments. As we huddled together, we realized the different shades of our skin and contours of our faces. The seven of us represented six countries; Switzerland, Thailand, Iran, Israel, Guatemala, and the United States. We planned… Continue reading 22nd Annual International Dinner
4. Second Search In 1977 I turned nineteen. Mother’s Day and my birthday were always times that triggered thoughts of my early existence. On Mother’s Day I bought a nice card for Mom. Grantline United Methodist gave every mother a small pot of marigolds. But I also thought about my other Mom. After all, she… Continue reading Chapter 4. Second Search
You understood that I was never searching for a mother. I always knew that special person was you. I know it was you that bandaged my wounded knees and packed my lunch for school. Your tight hugs and enduring encouragement made me the human I am today. By loving me first you taught me to… Continue reading To My Adoptive Mom
In 1976 I turned eighteen. There was a clubhouse in the Knobs that was known for its Saturday night dances. That’s where I met Angela. She was seventeen and had long, dark hair and shapely curves. At semi arms length, she was revolving to a slow song with another young man. When she dislodged from… Continue reading First Love
The fear of the adventure almost became too great for me. Mom was not prepared when I told her my decision. I really do not think she could understand why anyone would want to seek answers to such questions if they had wonderful adoptive parents. I decided that maybe a personal letter would be a… Continue reading The Amulet
During the previous weeks I had been sent copies of many wedding license applications from different counties, none of which seemed to have any significance with my genesis. But the third envelope with a return address of Putnam County stirred my attention, for the headline read, “Application is hereby made for a License for the… Continue reading The Marriage License Application
“Mrs. Price was a small woman, wore her hair in a pig-tail. She also wore cheap jewelry and stale perfume. She said she know nothing about the father of this baby. Some mutual friends had introduced them, and the child was conceived after they had had too much to drink. She never saw her baby,… Continue reading There’s No Shame in Origins