LilMtnCbn
05-31-2004, 07:39 AM
http://www.southbendtribune.com/stories/2004/05/31/local.20040531-sbt-MARS
-A1-Mothers_love_son_eno.sto
Mothers love son enough to let him go
One placed him for adoption to better his life, one gave him support in
searching for his birth mom.
By MAY LEE JOHNSON
Tribune Staff Writer
Anthony Goulet is proud to have found his birth mother, Charlotte Huddleston
of South Bend. They met on May 13 for the first time.
Tribune Photo/PAUL RAKESTRAW
SOUTH BEND -- Forty-five years ago, a young black woman found herself pregnant.
She was 18 years old and had just graduated from Central High School. She
struggled with what to do.
Charlotte Huddleston knew she wouldn't be able to raise a baby on her own, and
she had no support from the baby's father. Although her parents left the
decision up to her, she just felt she couldn't put the extra burden on them. So
she made up her mind to put her child up for adoption.
Catholic Charities told her of a hospital in Kalamazoo, run by nuns, that would
allow her a place to stay to deliver her baby in private -- and would shield
her from the shame in her hometown of South Bend.
"My mother was not the stay-at-home grandmother type, and I wanted the best for
him," Charlotte says now. "I knew that if I put him up for adoption, he would
have a life better than the one I could have provided him at that time."
In the 1950s, unwed pregnant girls were taboo. Charlotte's only request was
that her baby be placed with a Catholic family, to be raised in the religion
that she was.
"When he was born, I never got a chance to see him, just a brief glance at his
head as they quickly swished him away," she says. Her son was born March 1,
1959.
Charlotte would go to college and become a nurse. She married, gave birth to
four more children and settled into a life. Over the years, she cried about her
firstborn son, but all she could do was pray and hope for the best for him.
'He's my son'
Meanwhile, a white couple and their 4-month-old son from the East Coast were
living in South Bend. Kathleen Goulet remembers that her late husband, Robert,
was attending the University of Notre Dame.
They had taken on a black male 6-month-old foster baby.
"At the time my husband was in school and I felt I didn't have enough to do, so
I was reading the paper where I saw an ad where Catholic Charities was looking
for foster parents," Kathleen says.
At one point, the Goulets were raising two foster children: a newborn girl,
whom they kept until she was adopted, and Tony.
"We cared for him but because of the times, it never occurred to us to adopt
him, because at that time interracial adoptions were not allowed," Kathleen
says now from her home in Manchester, N.H.
After Robert graduated from Notre Dame, the baby they had raised until he was 2
1/2 was sent to another foster home. His new foster mother turned out to be a
member of the same parish as his birth mother, although Charlotte never knew
it."Tony went to live in another foster home, but we kept up with him and how
he was doing," Kathleen says. "We would send him Christmas gifts, and we had
pictures of him.
"Well, one Sunday I was reading the New Yorker magazine and I came across a
poem by James Baldwin. Although I can't remember the name of it, something
about it really touched me and reminded me of Tony (who was 6 by then). So I
went out to the garden and asked my husband if we could adopt him. Well,
(laughing) after he picked himself up off the floor, we let Tony come to visit,
and later we adopted him. He became number five in our family, but he is the
oldest.
"I have never had any regrets about adopting him," she says. "He's my son."
The search begins
By all accounts, for more than four decades, Anthony Keith Goulet lived as part
of a large, happy family. His family defended him from the few indignities he
suffered in largely white areas, even once moving to a more tolerant
neighborhood. He learned to ski. He has traveled to Europe. He graduated from
high school and has worked for 15 years for the laundry at New Hampshire
Hospital.
During a month's vacation with friends in 1982, Anthony felt a terrible
loneliness coming over him. He says now that not only did he miss his family,
but it was the first time he wondered about his biological mother.
That moment spurred his search for his birth mother.
"When I got home, I was talking it over with my mother," he says.
The late Peggy Dovovan of Catholic Charities was active in placing black
children with interracial families. Her practice was controversial, but she
didn't care. She placed Tony with the Goulets.
"I remember Peg telling Tony when he was a teenager, 'If you ever want to find
your birth mother, I can help you,' " Kathleen says. "But she died before he
began the search."
Yet the information Donovan left behind helped in the Goulets' search. With a
little precious information passed on to them, they were able to find his birth
mother.
"My mother was OK with my searching," Anthony says, "and she's the one that
found my birth mother for me."
One son, two families
"When I received the call 45 years later asking if I would like to see my son,
'yes' was my first word," Charlotte says, "and then there were not words that
could describe what I felt. I felt blessed that my son wanted to see me. I was
overjoyed. I just couldn't wait to see him and let the rest of the family meet
him."
Anthony connected with Charlotte in October. They exchanged many calls and
letters. He would later tell Kathleen that he was going to take some of his
vacation time to meet his birth family.
Charlotte and Kathleen met the week of Thanksgiving when Kathleen had come to
visit relatives here. Charlotte remembers her as a wonderful person.
Tony and his birth mother saw each other in person for the first time on May
13. His flight had changed, so when Charlotte and her daughter, Doreen, arrived
at the airport, he was sitting outside with his suitcase. She recognized him
right away, she says, because he strongly resembles her son Monty.
He was to leave Sunday but will return the end of July for their family
reunion. Charlotte has been invited to New Hampshire and hopes to travel when
her health is better and she has saved some money.
As proud as Charlotte is of her well-mannered son, his siblings back home are
fiercely protective of him. They worried a bit about whether he'd want to come
home after meeting his biological family, whether a newspaper reporter would
treat him fairly.
His family back home calls him Tony; his family in South Bend calls him
Anthony.
Charlotte, who has recently been put on dialysis, wishes her newly reunited son
could stay. But Anthony feels needed by the woman who raised him, who has
recently undergone two knee replacements.
Yet clearly, this is a happy ending that not all adoptive and birth mothers
enjoy.
"It's hard to give your child away because you always wonder in the back of
your mind just what happened to him. You wonder if he's healthy, loved and
surviving," Charlotte says. "Well, my prayers were answered, and he is a
wonderful man, and he turned out just fine."
-------------------------
A good friend will come and bail you out of jail . . . but, a true friend will
be sitting next to you saying, "Damn . . . that was fun!"
-----Unknown
-A1-Mothers_love_son_eno.sto
Mothers love son enough to let him go
One placed him for adoption to better his life, one gave him support in
searching for his birth mom.
By MAY LEE JOHNSON
Tribune Staff Writer
Anthony Goulet is proud to have found his birth mother, Charlotte Huddleston
of South Bend. They met on May 13 for the first time.
Tribune Photo/PAUL RAKESTRAW
SOUTH BEND -- Forty-five years ago, a young black woman found herself pregnant.
She was 18 years old and had just graduated from Central High School. She
struggled with what to do.
Charlotte Huddleston knew she wouldn't be able to raise a baby on her own, and
she had no support from the baby's father. Although her parents left the
decision up to her, she just felt she couldn't put the extra burden on them. So
she made up her mind to put her child up for adoption.
Catholic Charities told her of a hospital in Kalamazoo, run by nuns, that would
allow her a place to stay to deliver her baby in private -- and would shield
her from the shame in her hometown of South Bend.
"My mother was not the stay-at-home grandmother type, and I wanted the best for
him," Charlotte says now. "I knew that if I put him up for adoption, he would
have a life better than the one I could have provided him at that time."
In the 1950s, unwed pregnant girls were taboo. Charlotte's only request was
that her baby be placed with a Catholic family, to be raised in the religion
that she was.
"When he was born, I never got a chance to see him, just a brief glance at his
head as they quickly swished him away," she says. Her son was born March 1,
1959.
Charlotte would go to college and become a nurse. She married, gave birth to
four more children and settled into a life. Over the years, she cried about her
firstborn son, but all she could do was pray and hope for the best for him.
'He's my son'
Meanwhile, a white couple and their 4-month-old son from the East Coast were
living in South Bend. Kathleen Goulet remembers that her late husband, Robert,
was attending the University of Notre Dame.
They had taken on a black male 6-month-old foster baby.
"At the time my husband was in school and I felt I didn't have enough to do, so
I was reading the paper where I saw an ad where Catholic Charities was looking
for foster parents," Kathleen says.
At one point, the Goulets were raising two foster children: a newborn girl,
whom they kept until she was adopted, and Tony.
"We cared for him but because of the times, it never occurred to us to adopt
him, because at that time interracial adoptions were not allowed," Kathleen
says now from her home in Manchester, N.H.
After Robert graduated from Notre Dame, the baby they had raised until he was 2
1/2 was sent to another foster home. His new foster mother turned out to be a
member of the same parish as his birth mother, although Charlotte never knew
it."Tony went to live in another foster home, but we kept up with him and how
he was doing," Kathleen says. "We would send him Christmas gifts, and we had
pictures of him.
"Well, one Sunday I was reading the New Yorker magazine and I came across a
poem by James Baldwin. Although I can't remember the name of it, something
about it really touched me and reminded me of Tony (who was 6 by then). So I
went out to the garden and asked my husband if we could adopt him. Well,
(laughing) after he picked himself up off the floor, we let Tony come to visit,
and later we adopted him. He became number five in our family, but he is the
oldest.
"I have never had any regrets about adopting him," she says. "He's my son."
The search begins
By all accounts, for more than four decades, Anthony Keith Goulet lived as part
of a large, happy family. His family defended him from the few indignities he
suffered in largely white areas, even once moving to a more tolerant
neighborhood. He learned to ski. He has traveled to Europe. He graduated from
high school and has worked for 15 years for the laundry at New Hampshire
Hospital.
During a month's vacation with friends in 1982, Anthony felt a terrible
loneliness coming over him. He says now that not only did he miss his family,
but it was the first time he wondered about his biological mother.
That moment spurred his search for his birth mother.
"When I got home, I was talking it over with my mother," he says.
The late Peggy Dovovan of Catholic Charities was active in placing black
children with interracial families. Her practice was controversial, but she
didn't care. She placed Tony with the Goulets.
"I remember Peg telling Tony when he was a teenager, 'If you ever want to find
your birth mother, I can help you,' " Kathleen says. "But she died before he
began the search."
Yet the information Donovan left behind helped in the Goulets' search. With a
little precious information passed on to them, they were able to find his birth
mother.
"My mother was OK with my searching," Anthony says, "and she's the one that
found my birth mother for me."
One son, two families
"When I received the call 45 years later asking if I would like to see my son,
'yes' was my first word," Charlotte says, "and then there were not words that
could describe what I felt. I felt blessed that my son wanted to see me. I was
overjoyed. I just couldn't wait to see him and let the rest of the family meet
him."
Anthony connected with Charlotte in October. They exchanged many calls and
letters. He would later tell Kathleen that he was going to take some of his
vacation time to meet his birth family.
Charlotte and Kathleen met the week of Thanksgiving when Kathleen had come to
visit relatives here. Charlotte remembers her as a wonderful person.
Tony and his birth mother saw each other in person for the first time on May
13. His flight had changed, so when Charlotte and her daughter, Doreen, arrived
at the airport, he was sitting outside with his suitcase. She recognized him
right away, she says, because he strongly resembles her son Monty.
He was to leave Sunday but will return the end of July for their family
reunion. Charlotte has been invited to New Hampshire and hopes to travel when
her health is better and she has saved some money.
As proud as Charlotte is of her well-mannered son, his siblings back home are
fiercely protective of him. They worried a bit about whether he'd want to come
home after meeting his biological family, whether a newspaper reporter would
treat him fairly.
His family back home calls him Tony; his family in South Bend calls him
Anthony.
Charlotte, who has recently been put on dialysis, wishes her newly reunited son
could stay. But Anthony feels needed by the woman who raised him, who has
recently undergone two knee replacements.
Yet clearly, this is a happy ending that not all adoptive and birth mothers
enjoy.
"It's hard to give your child away because you always wonder in the back of
your mind just what happened to him. You wonder if he's healthy, loved and
surviving," Charlotte says. "Well, my prayers were answered, and he is a
wonderful man, and he turned out just fine."
-------------------------
A good friend will come and bail you out of jail . . . but, a true friend will
be sitting next to you saying, "Damn . . . that was fun!"
-----Unknown
