Hi Mitch,

I feel like you're a dear friend since I keep a copy of "Five People" and "Tuesdays With Morrie" on my dresser.  I've thought often of writing you and now that I've received some devastating medical news, the time is right. 

I know you're interested in stories that involve teaching and I do believe mine has a place in history of a time that is almost forgotten.  I had a forever life-changing experience in the 1960's which doesn't sound like that long ago.  But my story sounds like a horror story from another century.  Most people today can't even begin to comprehend it because things have come so far.  I became pregnant as a teenager in a time when young girls couldn't attend high school or college if they were unmarried.  Parents considered it the greatest shame and embarrassment that could be brought on a family.  The usual way of handling this "problem" was to quickly move the girl and then after it was over pretend that nothing happened.  There were charities called "unwed mothers' homes".  My parents sent me to one that was owned by The Salvation Army.  The home was full of young, pregnant women--mostly from nice families and backgrounds--all living in hiding until they gave birth.  There were affluent families in line to get these babies through a lawyer or someone to help them.  I went in at three months, gave birth, and had to say goodbye to my baby at three days.  It's just very hard to imagine, thinking of all the options women have today. 

The "second time" my son was born was at age 34, when he went through a specialist in finding birth parents.  The records were totally sealed up until then and it had been virtually impossible before that time to really conduct a search.  My life totally changed on September 1, 2000, when we met for the first time.  I have never been a believer in digging up the past because most of these stories turn out to be very painful or just okay at best.  When I was first contacted by the investigator, the call sounded like my whole secret past was tumbling down.  Even my beloved brother and sister, who were just kids when I was pregnant, never knew what had happened to me.  They were told I had had a nervous breakdown and had to go away.  As little kids they never had any idea what that could mean.  It just sounded horrible to someone that was actually more like a mother to them than a sister.  It's hard to believe that all the unwed mothers had to come home and pretend it was a closed chapter.  That was part of the deal with the home--that all records were sealed and your baby would be assured of a wonderful life, with parents who could well afford everything the "good life" might offer.  One of the many reasons I have always been reluctant to share my story is that I felt like it gave false hope to a dream.  I was certainly convinced that my son would have no respect for me, because no young adult at this time could understand what the social ramifications were in the 60's.   I encouraged him to watch "A Summer Place", my favorite movie, which shows a family who pretends that the Grandmother is actually the Mother.  This same story happened to Jack Nicholson.

I have spent the last 12 years devoted to my son and teaching him all the things I think are important to be the best man he can be.  He certainly was a prize to begin with, but I have to believe that I have enriched his life in some way.  I consider "real" parents to be the ones who raised him.  Not some idiot teenager like myself.  If both his real parents had not passed away, I would have never agreed to meet him, because I think it's a slap in the face to the ones who raised him.  However, they had both passed and I had to open the door to be a second mother.  I have found that nobody really understands what it's like for two people who are virtual strangers to meet.  He didn't know me, and I didn't know him.  It was a one in a million story.  We clicked immediately.  Our lives have both been drastically changed for the good since September of 2000. 

I recently found out that I have a carcinoma on my kidney and I really don't want to have missed the chance to share our story.  In a time when teenage single motherhood is glorified, I only wish young women could know how far we've come.  Mitch, I know you receive hundreds of stories and I just have to hope that you  might consider co-authoring mine in the name of history.  Thank you so much for an opportunity to share. 

Your Friend,

Gail Little

P.S.  I can be contacted at 205-414-0000, or through my e-mail.

—, Birmingham, AL

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