As a child I would ask Helen very innocently, "What happened to my real Mommy and my real Daddy?" She would look at me with a most serious expression and say, "It’s just too sad. They both died at birth." Years later, when it finally dawned on me that two instantaneous and simultaneous deaths on October 1, 1948 were a huge improbability, I became more and more curious about my actual history. Helen and Fred were good and loving parents, yet I knew they could never understand my desire to learn about my past.

Sadly, Fred died in 1984 and we lost Helen to cancer in 1991. I was into my second career and had married the most wonderful man in 1985. We had lived abroad, returned and built a home on the New Jersey Shore. While dealing with my mother’s estate, I inquired of our Michigan lawyer if he could assist me in obtaining my original birth certificate. No, he couldn’t – adoption records in Michigan are sealed. But he did petition the Wayne County Probate Court for my "non-identifying" information.

Tantalizing information.
Yes, I am Swedish. No, my 34-year old birth mother was not married when I was born. Yes, my birth mother had two sisters, one older and one younger. Yes, the younger sister had four daughters before I was born. Yes, my birth father had two sons before I was born. No, he was not divorced from his wife but only separated. Yes, my maternal grandfather objected to the adoption plans. Yes, my birth family was very involved in Swedish social clubs. Yes, my birth family was Lutheran. Such tantalizing information!

This non-identifying information satisfied my curiosity for awhile. I became involved in Chosen Children’s Charities, Inc. helping other adult adoptees and their birth families make their first reunion. Plus I was secretary of the Donkersloot Family Reunion planning committee. My husband’s family had a richly detailed genealogical history of 500 years and was updating information on 20^th century descendants and planning a North American family reunion. I was surrounded by and immersed in family connections – all except my own. How could I ever discover my true history?

I was adopted through the Lutheran Children’s Friends Society following my birth at Booth Memorial Hospital in Detroit, MI on October 1, 1948. Booth Memorial was subsequently purchased by The Salvation Army who consolidated all medical records in Des Plaines, IL. Those records remain unavailable to me, although an additional clue was given – my birth name was Barbara. But Barbara who?

Where to search without a surname? An "underground" searcher offered me my true birth information in exchange for $3,000 cash in a middle-of-the-night telephone conversation. This was insane! If this searcher could discover my history, I could too. But again, where to search without a surname?

Last fall, my uncle passed away. In clearing out his law office, a strange filing cabinet was discovered. This filing cabinet had been given to him to store by my father Fred, when he retired and closed his office. It contained records of land transactions and real estate purchases my father had made over the years. But among the hundreds of documents was one sheet of paper – a copy of the original application for my birth certificate. And on this application was one line, "Birth name, if adopted."
There it was in black andwhite! Barbara Kay Sundquist.
At last, I had the best clue to start my search.

Starting the search.
Through the Internet I located postal addresses and e-mail addresses for all Sundquist’s in Michigan and Washington (my birth mother’s father was born in WA). I composed a "blind" letter stating that I had just discovered my birth name. I described my birth family’s profile and asked if anyone recognized my Sundquist family. I mailed over one hundred letters!

In the meantime, a Donkersloot "cousin" in Phoenix, AZ, an expert in genealogy, suggested that I start searching the 1920 US census for my family. So off I went to the local LDS Family History Center to enter the fascinating world of genealogical research. Using the sparse clues from my non-identifying information combined with the surname Sundquist, I looked in the Soundex records for a family living in Detroit in 1920 with three young daughters. BINGO! There they were. My birth mother’s name was Dorothy Sundquist. Her sisters were Virginia and Ethel. Their parents, my grandparents, were David and Gertrude. I went next to the census reports of 1920, 1910 and 1900. What a wealth of information! Great grandparents, great aunts and great uncles, and their offspring. I learned so much about their history – when my great grandfather became a citizen, where they lived, their occupations.
But it was the recent past and the present that remained a mystery.

More letters were mailed – to the three Dorothy Sundquists listed in the US, to all Dorothy’s in the US with the same birth date, to all cemeteries in Detroit inquiring about Sundquist graves. I hired a professional researcher in Michigan who obtained various documents on family members, including newspaper obituaries for my grandparents, which gave me my grandmother’s maiden name and another line to research. Knowing their address from the 1920 census, I was able to determine which high school the girls may have attended and we found Virginia’s 1930 graduation photo. I received many wonderful and sympathetic responses, even telephone calls, from all my letters and e-mails. Although I learned that there are also Danish Sundquist’s and Finnish Sundquist’s and that Sundquist means "branch of a stream or river," no one acknowledged recognizing my particular Swedish Sundquist family.
 

I seemed to come to "the end of the road" on information. Thanksgiving came and went. Christmas came and went. January stretched on forever. On February 1, 1998 I received a letter that began, "I was your birth mother’s best friend all of our lives." My heart stopped! In that same sentence she wrote that Dorothy passed away in 1983.  My birth mother – found and lost – all in one sentence.

Thankfully, a telephone number was included and I called immediately. What a conversation that was. One of my original "blind" letters had reached someone who knew someone who knew that 89-year old Greta Nilsson knew my birth mother. We talked, I cried. She told me that she was the only one outside of the Sundquist family who knew that I had been born and given away. Greta and Dorothy had been very active in the Swedish Club in Detroit for many years. And one of those non-related Sundquist’s did realize what I was searching for and knew that Greta would be the best person to contact me. Bless the Swedes and their wonderful affinity for maintaining a tightly knit community.

Another heart-stopping telephone call!
I reached Karen, Ethel’s 2^nd oldest daughter. I asked her if she remembered her Aunt Dorothy. Yes, of course she did. I told her that I was the daughter that Dorothy gave up for adoption in 1948. Surprisingly, Karen was not shocked. They knew I was "out there somewhere." Karen told me that her mother died in 1994. Her older sister Marilyn apparently had known of my existence. At Ethel’s funeral, Marilyn told all her sisters and her brother about me. A brother? How many siblings? There were not just four daughters, but one more daughter and a son!
Six cousins! Wow! Two in Michigan, two in Florida, one in Tennessee and one in California. Plus spouses, children and grandchildren!
I didn’t find my birth mother in time to meet her, but I found the next best thing – six nieces and a nephew who adored their Auntie Dorothy and wanted to share their memories of her with me.

The following days were filled with telephone calls and e-mails furiously going back and forth. Each time the telephone rang, my husband would say, "I think it’s another cousin!" I couldn’t stop saying, "WOW!" out loud. Bits and pieces of information about my birth mother started coming to me, along with photos of her and of all my new cousins, their spouses, children and grandchildren. It was amazing. But they were so scattered – how would I ever meet any of them? But wait, Marilyn’s youngest daughter was being married in Michigan on May 2. They would all be there, in one place, for the wedding! The bride very graciously sent an invitation to John and me.

The loveliest three days of my life.
As it turned out, I couldn’t be there on the day of the wedding, but I was able to go to Detroit three days prior to meet everyone.
Those were perhaps the loveliest three days of my life. Marilyn and I were able to spend time together, meeting over breakfast and then going with her husband Bob to search for the graves of my mother and our grandparents. I helped make wedding reception favors at the bride’s house, so I felt I was really a part of that wedding even though I wouldn’t be there. Karen made an extraordinary effort to bring Greta Nilsson to the brides’ home for a party. What a wonderful surprise that was. Gail and her exuberant husband Flory brought scrapbooks all the way from California that had photos of Dorothy. During a free afternoon, Karen, Gail, Kathy and I went to the local mall to look for wedding presents for the bride. We enjoyed a very elegant lunch and great conversation – truly wonderful time spent together. At the party at the bride’s home, David and I sneaked several "smokes" together on the porch and had a chance to talk and share. At the "bachelorette" party, I had the pleasure of meeting two of Marilyn’s lifelong best friends. We all danced like fools until late and had a great time. On the morning of my departure, Terry, her two sons, and Marilyn came to my room for coffee and an hour of good chat.

Dorothy Elmira Sundquist Lind.
What have I learned about my birth mother – Dorothy Elmira Sundquist Lind, born 1913 and died 1983? She married Willard "Bill" Lind in 1960 but never had any other children. From more than one source, I know that she didn’t go through one day of her life without mourning my loss. She compensated by lavishing her love and affection on Ethel’s children. As a result, these children – my cousins and their children – hold her in their hearts in extra special regard. Apparently, Dorothy was sent to live with Ethel and her husband Carl during her pregnancy. Marilyn, ten at the time, remembers whispered conversations behind closed doors, but mostly remembers having Auntie Dorothy close by. In later years, Marilyn lived with Dorothy for a period and learned from her then about my birth and adoption. Grandma Gertrude Sundquist was an extremely moral woman who would not/could not abide a child born out of wedlock, even though the mother – her unmarried daughter – was 34. Her feelings were so strong and forceful that Dorothy was obliged to give me up for adoption, in spite of Ethel volunteering to take me and in spite of her own husband, my grandfather David Elmer Sundquist, objecting to the adoption plans. It is fascinating to know now that Gertrude and David married 23 August 1911 and that their first daughter, Virginia, was born 29 February 1912.
Hmmm… So much for the extremely moral woman and her 6-month pregnancy.

Dorothy graduated from Cass Tech High School, a technological school in Detroit for advanced and gifted students. She spent her career as a bookkeeper at Chrysler Corporation. She was active in the Norse Civic Association, the Swedish Club, the Scandia Women’s Chorus, the Arpi Ladies’ Auxiliary, the Vasa Order of America, the ladies’ auxiliary of the Swedish Engineers’ Society, the Finnish Center Association, the Ladies of the Oriental Shrine, and both the Antioch Lutheran Church and the Immanuel Lutheran Church. She was a creative person, making Swedish folk costumes for dolls that were sold at the various bazaars of her organizations. She was a gracious hostess and enjoyed card parties. WHEW! This was one busy woman!
 

Mary Lou at age 6

How do I measure up? Well, I’ll never be a bookkeeper – no math acumen. And I’ll never be able to carry a tune – alas, tone deaf. But I have her neck, chin, eyes and forehead. I have her general body shape (alas to both of us). She was ambidextrous, I am left-handed. She was 5’2", I am 5’8". I think I have her smile, but I know I had her overbite before my braces. And with that smile, I hope that I also have her obvious and proven love of and devotion to family, friends and life. My new cousins are convinced that I am Dorothy’s daughter. I can only hope that I live up to her.

Birth mother Dorothy at age 18

But what of those qualities that I can’t attribute to Dorothy? I have no information on the circumstances of my conception – I was the best-kept secret of SE Michigan in 1948. I do know that my birth father had been separated from his wife for at least seven years, that he too was Swedish and Lutheran, that he had two sons before I was born who were being raised by his father and stepmother, that he was a machinist at a local automotive company, and that he had brown eyes and was 5’11". What if their relationship was one of the great lost loves? What if their relationship was violent? What if their relationship was just one of those passing things?
It doesn’t matter. There’s still a part of me that remains unexplained. There are still two half-brothers who may not even know that I exist. So my search goes on – the hard way. Again, no name, only a few nebulous clues. I am going through the Wayne County, MI census line by line to identify the profile of my birth father’s family in 1920. I hope, someday, to be able to add an appendix to this tale.