Quilts & Capers

When I was a child, I knew that I was adopted. All of my friends knew I was adopted and it didn’t make any difference. My adopted parents told me that I was special because they got to pick me out. My older brother David was also adopted. He was born to a different birthmother, and was adopted at birth. We thought nothing of our adoption and got along like any two brothers would. I went through the Burley school system and college knowing I was adopted; it didn’t make any difference. The only time my adoption caused a problem was when I had a doctor appointment or a physical exam and the physician would want to know if I had any hereditary diseases.

My adopted brother contacted me when he was sixty-nine and I was sixty-five and asked me if I would help him identify his birthmother before he died. I agreed to help David find out who his birthparents were and decided to investigate my own roots at the same time. I started my investigation in January of 2001 and completed my search in May of 2001.

This is a true story of the joys and disappointments encountered by David and me during the search for our birthparents. The book explains the difficulties in locating seventy-year-old records and information. My birthmother also wrote a hand written letter to me explaining her reasoning and rational for placing her son for adoption. She explained from a Mother’s point of view the hardships and difficulties encountered by a single and pregnant mother during the depression in difficult times.

This book gives an uplifting appreciation of how fortunate a mother and her child were to be reconciled at such a late stage in their lives. There is a heartfelt message in the love and affection found between the adopted son and his birthmother, her family, and the birthfathers family.

Chapter I

The Search Begins

When my wife Donna brought in a letter from my brother David, we initially expected that it would be bad news before opening the mail. We knew he was sending a letter rather than calling on the phone because he could not afford to make a long distance telephone call. David was my older adoptive brother who lived 150 miles away in Twin Falls, Idaho. We expected that he would be asking for financial assistance in paying his bills. However, his letter did not mention the need for money or ask for financial help. I was surprised to read his only request, Monte, will you help me find my birthparents before I die? He explained that it was important for him to know where he came from and who his birthparents were.

David was in poor health and did not expect to live much longer. He had suffered cancerous growths on his face and arms and was taking several medications that the Veterans Hospital furnished. He was surviving on a veteran’s disability pension and a social security disability payment of less than $600 each month. Out of his $600 income, he had to make a house payment of $235.

David was older by four years and had turned 69 on his last birthday. We always remembered and recognized his birthday with a gift and some extra cash. Each time we traveled near Twin Falls for family or business we would contact him, take him out to dinner, and give him some spending money. David was divorced and not on speaking terms with his family. On a previous visit David had asked us to help him prepare a Will, as he could not afford to pay someone to prepare the legal document. He specified that he did not want his children or ex-wife to be beneficiaries of his estate as he had personal issues with them. We prepared a computer generated Will which David signed. He named me, Monte L Hobson, as his executor.

For some unknown reason David thought I had knowledge of his ancestors and birthparents. David knew I had been the one to take care of our adopted parents when they became incapacitated with ill health. I was responsible for selling the family business and settling their estates.

Donna and I considered David’s request. We agreed that I would tell David I would look for any information that might be helpful. I called David on the telephone and told him that I had absolutely no knowledge of his or my birthparents, but I would do some investigating and see what I could do to help him. At that point, I had never given any thought of searching for David’s birthparents or mine. I was very happy with my childhood and considered my adoptive parents as the only parents I ever had. I did not want to tell David that the likelihood of finding his birthparents alive at this point was very slim.

Our adoptive parents, Curley and Hazelle Hobson, got David and me through the Idaho State Children's Home in Boise, Idaho. David was adopted at birth in 1932. I was adopted four years later in 1936 when I was three months old. Although David and I had different biological mothers, we felt lucky that Curley and Hazelle Hobson adopted both of us. Once I joined the family, from that moment on, David and I were brothers. Our loving and devoted parents raised us in Burley, Idaho. Both David and I had the highest respect and love for our adoptive parents.

My brother struggled in school. David had brain fever otherwise known as meningitis or encephalitis when he was a baby. Our adoptive mother called the doctor who made a house call to see David. The doctor told our parents that he did not expect David to live through the night . He also told Hazelle not to pick up or move David because he had such a high fever. Any movement could have been fatal. But David survived. David was a fighter. Not only did he make it through the night, he got over the illness. Unfortunately, David had some serious mental and physical health issues caused by the high fever that lasted throughout his life. David had problems keeping up with his classmates in school and was unable to complete his high school education. David eventually dropped out of high school and worked for our dad driving a fuel delivery truck.

In those days, most people heated their homes by burning fuel oil from a fifty-five gallon barrel perched near the furnace. David was handicapped in his ability to be productive in the work force, but he was capable of delivering fuel oil and operated as his own boss in his deliveries.

The Army drafted David during the Korean War conflict, but his mental and physical disabilities affected his ability to perform his military duties. He received a medical discharge from the Army after he injured his back by lifting heavy equipment in the Service. He returned to Burley and continued driving the fuel delivery truck for Curley. He married a high school classmate (Una) he had met while attending school. They both attended the Mormon Church; eventually they got married. They had six children.

During our childhood, David and I attended the Methodist Church in a predominately Mormon community. My wife Donna did not know anything about the Mormon religion having moved from Minnesota to Idaho. Her Minnesota friends teased her that she might become the fifth wife of a Mormon. She thought that the steak house was a nice place to eat a beef steak dinner.

As it turned out, our second child (Joe), who we adopted, had a Mormon background. His birthmother had one special request. That request was that he be adopted by people who would not ‘bad mouth’ the Mormon religion. At that time our main babysitters consisted of six wonderful sisters whose families were practicing Mormons. My brother David also married into a Mormon family. The majority of residents in my home town (Burley) practiced the Mormon religion.

Our adopted parents treated us with so much love and respect. They took us on vacations to San Francisco, Seattle, Disneyland, and many other places. One of our favorite pastimes was going camping at Lake Cleveland near Albion. We would make frequent trips to the local campgrounds and fishing holes near Burley. Curley and Hazelle taught us how to cook in a Dutch oven and how to pan fry the trout we caught to perfection. Holidays were important in our home. Curley and Hazelle went out of their way to make Christmas and Thanksgiving extra special for David and me. We continued this family tradition after we were married and had our own children. Our adoptive parents were as proud of us as we were of them. They told us at an early age that they adopted us, and all of our friends were aware of our adoption. Everyone treated us like children with natural parents and never gave a thought or concern to who our birth parents were. I feel confident in speaking for both David and myself that we felt privileged being adoptees. We felt as though our adoptive parents had selected us to be their children and live together as a family. Both of our adoptive parents died in the early 1970’s. I would never have considered trying to find our births parents if either Curley or Hazelle were still alive.

I have an early recollection of attending third grade at the Southwest Grade School near our home in Burley. The students were required to swallow a tablespoon of cod liver oil each day at school. My adoptive mother was a substitute teacher and occasionally dispensed the doses of cod liver oil. I can remember my classmates asking me if the substitute teacher was my real mother. I explained to my classmates that Mrs. Hobson was my adoptive mother and that I loved her very much.

When I was growing up in Burley I worked for Curley in his service station. His business was the Hobson Oil Company and we delivered fuel-heating oil in addition to selling retail gasoline to customers. In the late 1940’s, gasoline sold for $.25 cents a gallon.

After graduation from Burley High School in 1954, I volunteered for the