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SHAWNA'S STORY: A white mother, a black father, a beautiful
baby girl.Twenty six years later, an innocent victim of racism comes face-to-face
with the woman who abandoned her shortly after birth.
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So many questions needed answering.
Why did Doris give custody to Shawna's father?
Did Doris's parents pressure her to give up the baby?
Are there racists in her mother's family?
At this point, we could only speculate.
On November 21st, the search for Doris suddenly got hot. My investigation revealed she was living in a small town in Northern New Mexico. She had no telephone and her only address was a post office box. I was sure, however, that I could find Doris if we flew to Albuquerque, rented a car for the drive north and talked to some of the locals in town.
I called Shawna, told her what I'd learned, and I asked her to book us on the first flight to Albuquerque the next day.
Arriving in Albuquerque at 9:30 AM the next morning, we rented a car and began driving north. Shawna seemed anxious and complained her stomach hurt.
"I called my Grandma Nellie last night," Shawna told me during the drive into town. "She said she had prayed for me and she knew everything would work out all right."
Back at the cafe where I'd left Shawna earlier, I told her what happened once I located her mother's house. We discussed the possibility that Doris might have been alerted that I was looking for her. It was a small town and I had already asked directions from several of it's residents.
The people at the cafe seemed to be getting curious about who Shawna was an why she had been waiting there so long. Strangers stand out in tiny towns like this, so I knew I couldn't leave her alone any longer. We stayed just long enough to formulate a plan to determine if Doris was home. Shawna would go with me to watch the house. If the kids came home from school, we'd know Doris was either there, or she'd be home soon. She wouldn't leave the children alone for long. If the kids stayed inside, we'd know Doris was probably in the house. This property was a kid's paradise. Unless they were told to stay inside, the kids would go out to play. The yard would demand it.
We'd have to assume Doris wasn't at the house if the children didn't come home from school. If she did know of our presence in town and she was trying to avoid us, she might just pick the kids up from school and take them to another location, in which case they may not be coming home tonight.
If and when we located Doris, Shawna and I would separate. I'd go talk to Doris alone and evaluate the situation. If Doris was receptive and interested in meeting her daughter, I'd let her know Shawna was nearby and I'd offer to bring her to the house so they could meet.
If she was not receptive, I wouldn't mention Shawna had come with me on the trip. I'd get as much information from her as she'd allow, then I'd pick Shawna up and we'd go back to Los Angeles. Later we'd write to Doris and try to persuade her to meet with Shawna sometime in the future.
We agreed on the plan and headed for the ranch house where we parked about three hundred yards away. The car was in plain view. If Doris was home, she would be able to see the car but we were too far away for her to see that anyone was with me. Slouched in the front seat, Shawna complained again of an upset stomach. Nerves were taking their toll.
At 4:15 a school bus dropped off four children at the cattle gate blocking the dirt driveway leading to Doris's house. I got out of the car and stood near the front bumper looking through binoculars.
The children, two boys and two girls, walked to the house and went inside. A minute or so later they came out to play. Then a slender blond hair woman dressed in a red sweat outfit and tennis shoes, stepped onto the porch and looked down the road in our direction.
Doris was home!
"There she is," I announced. "There's your mom! She's on the porch."
"No!... Are you sure?" Shawna moaned.
"That's her," I replied.
I don't believe it!" she gasped. "Oh Tom ... I don't believe it!"
Shawna got out and waited by the nearby stream while I went to talk to her mother as we had planned. "Hurry Tom. Don't take too long," she pleaded.
Doris went inside the house when I pulled into the driveway. The kids surrounded my car as I got out with a friendly smile on my face. I noticed Doris watching curiously through a window at the side of the house. A few seconds later she walked out onto the porch.
"Hi Doris," I said.
"Who are you?" she inquired.
I gave her my business card and told her I was a private investigator from Los Angeles.
"Can we talk in private for a few minutes... away from the kids?" I asked politely.
Doris ushered the children into the house.
"Do you know what this is about?" I inquired when she returned. "I have no idea!" she replied.
"Shawna," I said softly in case the kids were eavesdropping.
"Oh!... OK!" Doris gasped, then added, "How is she? Is she all right?"
I assured her Shawna was doing fine. I told Doris that Harold had been seriously ill and had died a few years ago. She was saddened by the news of Harold's death.
"Shawna hired me to find you," I informed Doris.
Although somewhat startled, she remained friendly. "Where can we talk? Shall we sit in your car?" she asked, appearing anxious to hear more.
Relieved by her cordial reception, I had a feeling this encounter would go well. As we sat in my car, Doris told me she often thought about Shawna, but had no idea how to find her. Harold had told her they'd be moving to either New York or Puerto Rico after the divorce and she hadn't had the resources to try and find them. She told me she had been married twice since her marriage to Harold ended. Her most recent marriage had taken place just two years ago.
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If you'd like to comment about Shawna's Story
or if you have questions about locating birthparents,
E-mail Tom Grant at...
tomgrantpi@yahoo.com
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