This Wisch List column originally appeared in the The Daily Times (Ottawa, Ill.) in 2003, and is included in my published book, “Northern IlliNOISE: Tales of a Territory.”
Ottawa’s long-lost son searches for his past
The WISCH LIST
Jan. 14, 2003
Almost seven decades ago, deep in the heart of the Great Depression, a healthy eight-pound baby boy was brought into this world at a household somewhere in Ottawa.
Today, thoughts of this long-lost son have returned home, laden with a lifelong mystery and searching for answers.
“I was born in Ottawa on Jan. 26, 1933, and given up for adoption immediately,” said Don Smith of Madison, Wis., who knows little, but wonders much, about his family background in The River City.
“I would like to know my family name, really,” Smith explained. “Nothing else.”
In a dozen days, Don Smith will turn 70 years old. But, with your help, today could be a real birthday.
“(My background) is something that’s been bugging me for the past several years, ever since my adoptive parents died about 20 years ago,” said Smith, who is hoping that his story might ring a bell with one of Ottawa’s older residents. “I don’t want to intrude on the lives of people who have spent years not knowing about me …
“Heck, one of my siblings might have ended up as a bank robber or something, and be someone I wouldn’t want to know.”
And with that laugh, his story begins.
Today, Don Smith is retired and staying busy in Madison, his home for the past 35 years, with a part-time job at a Sam Goody music store following a career in the record business in Wisconsin.
It was 35 years prior to moving to Madison that Smith, shortly after his birth in Ottawa, was whisked away to The Cradle – a private, state-licensed adoption agency in Evanston. Not long after his arrival there, Smith was adopted by a loving couple out of Chicago, and it was in the Windy City where he spent his youth, graduating from Hirsch High School in 1949 and Northwestern University after that.
In the years following college and relocating to Wisconsin, Smith remained close with his adoptive parents until their passing. And it was at an early age that they let him know about his unknown past.
“I found out I was adopted when I was young,” he said. “About 10 years old … (Growing up) I wondered a little (about my background), but it didn’t interest me at the time. Then, all of a sudden, once I became an old man, I started to wonder about my origin.”
As a result, in 1977, Smith attempted the first foray into his past, contacting The Cradle for information about his birth parents and receiving this letter in return:
“Your natural mother was 24 when you were born. She was American way back and, if it has meaning, you are of Scotch origin both on your maternal and paternal side.
“Your mother was a slight person and stood 5 feet, 2 inches tall. She had excellent health, as did your father, with no history of hereditary diseases. Your mother had medium brown hair and blue eyes. She had her high school education and was in general office work.
“Your natural father was 27 – and on the heavy side, standing 5 feet, 10 inches. He had brown hair and blue eyes. He had two years of college and was in construction work. He was not interested in responsibility, which prompted the plan for adoption. At birth, you weighed 8 pounds.”
For a man who had gone so long without not only a birth family, but also a country, to be dropped such clues was tantalizing.
“Hearing that I might be Scotch, that piqued my interest,” said Smith, had long been curious about his ethnic heritage.
Eleven years later in 1988, Smith again contacted The Cradle for more information and was given a few further clues to his background. This time, after 55 years of ignorance, the revelations it included a big new surprise: Smith was a baby brother.
“Several letters written by your birth mother to The Cradle reveal that you were the fourth child from her marriage; the youngest was 2 and the oldest was 4 when you were born. She was their sole support, being separated from your birth father, who had recently left her and the children.
“She was struggling to provide for those small children and did not see how she could take the responsibility of another little one. She felt adoption was the right thing for you and wrote to The Cradle before you were born to request help in placement.
“In another letter before your birth, she explained that you would be born at home because she could not afford a hospital. Our last contact was a letter we received from your birth mother in November 1933 in which she spoke of her ‘longing’ to know how you were doing.
“As difficult as it was, she felt, ‘it was all for the best. I am sure he has had better care and more than I could ever provide, and during the past few months, I have eased my mind this way.’ ”
“You see, this was probably a typical deep-Depression era scenario,” Smith explained. “I’ve often wondered what happened to this mother and those other three children. Probably the mother (who would be in her 90s) is now long dead. Perhaps the children also are – they would all be in their 70s.
“I’d like to know my parents’ names. And, if by chance, I have a brother or a sister still alive and living in the area and they would like to know about me, I’d be happy to talk to them.
“Whether we’d ever meet face-to-face, I don’t know. I don’t want to pry, but if by chance one of my siblings wanted to get in touch, I’d certainly be available and comfortable with that.”
Smith’s story has been seven decades in the making. And today, he’s hoping for the possibility that it might soon come to a conclusion, thanks to your help.
“I’ve waited 70 years,” he said. “So a few more months isn’t going to hurt me.”
If you have any clues to Don Smith’s family history or background, contact me at wischlist@gmail.com.
EPILOGUE: Although Don Smith’s story generated no shortage of discussion and interest throughout La Salle County, it unfortunately didn’t generate any accompanying answers.
And as a result, Ottawa’s long-lost son continued his search alone – although at least he did so with his story now being known and embraced by the people of his brief, but one-time hometown.