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Registry vital link for adoptee, mother

By Kay Bartlett

NEW YORK (AP)-Joyce Anderson was just 16 when she got in trouble. as they said in those days Joyce quit her job in Evansville. Ind., and returned to Albuquerque. N.M.

On May 27, when she was 17. Joyce gave birth to a girl, an infant she would cradle ever so briefly. It was 1947 then. and adoption seemed her only option But she knew that someday she would try to find her daughter. She chose the name Sandra Iline. figuring an unusual middle name might help.

Her baby was just six months old when Joyce began the search, a search that would take her 31 years and require the help of an adoptee registry-a clearing house adopted children and natural parents can write to with all the information they have and hope the person they are seeking has done the same

Jovce Anderson's search had been futile until she read about Adoptee's Liberty Movement Association (ALMA) and its national registry She had tried the channels and hit closed doors and sealed records

Joyce had moved to California, but she always felt her Sandra Iline was still in Albuquerque She spent $3.000 on private investigators considered getting a job in the records department and several umes thought of taking a front-page ad in the Albuquerque newspaper.

Information matched

Joyce had married twice, bore another daughter, opened a real estate business in Mission Viejo. Life was pretty good.

But each year on May 27 she wondered if a special little girl was loved Was she getting a nice birthday present? Some times, she even wondered. Was she still alive"

A vear passed after Joyce registered with ALMA Nothing

Then a young woman in Albuquerque. a woman now named Pam Bell. read about the registry. She was searching for her mother.

"I couldn't imagine how they could find my mother. Then, I thought. I had already spent over $1,000 on long distance calls and attorney fees, what's another $25" She dropped it in the mail.

Two weeks later, Reg Niles, a genealogist and ALMA staff member, was catching up on registrations, cross-filing information onto 3-by-5 index cards. Everything clicked.

We've got a match," he told Florence Fisher. ALMA president.

Ms. Fisher called Albuquerque and told Pam Bell that her mother was now named Joyce Lee Santiago. that she lived in Mission Viejo, and, yes, she was looking for her daughter.

Mrs Santiago was at work that afternoon when the phone rang and a voice. she had last heard as an infant's cry

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[From Longview Morning Journal, Mar. 16, 1980]

THE ROOM IS EMPTY, THE HOUSE IS QUIET, STEVE IS GONE

(By Jan Bailey)

(Editor's note: This is the first part of a story about Stevie, a blond-haired, brown-eyed boy who will soon be 3 years old. In his short life he has known three sets of parents plus foster parents. His story is one example of what can happen to a child placed for adoption in the Texas courts system. Monday's Longview Daily News and Tuesday's Morning Journal will describe the trial and the judge who sent Stevie to his new home.)

For the longest part of his life, 18 months, Stevie lived with Blanton and Betty Dawson and their adopted teen-age daughter Lorena. He called them Daddy and Mommy. Lorena was "Sissy."

Dawson, a self-employed masonry contractor, and his family live in a new three-bedroom brick home on a quiet residential street in Gilmer. One of those bedrooms is Stevie's; a small tricycle, stuffed toy animals, books of nursery rhymes and Bible stories attest to the fact. So do some half-filled red balloons now lying alone on a small table.

"We've left everything just like it was when he left," Mrs. Dawson said. "So that if when he comes back everything will be same. Except we took down the baby bed. Of course he'll be too big for that when he comes back anyway.

"That little tricycle, he loved that. He used to ride through the house going "Vroom, vroom'-making motorcycle sounds. And those balloons, the lady at the bank gave him those. It's hard to believe air would stay in them that long."

"That long" has been since Nov. 10, 1979. On that day, Judge Harold L. Valderas of 233rd District Court in Tarrant County, ordered Stevie removed from the Dawson's home and placed in a foster home.

Two days later the same judge awarded custody of Stevie to Jimmy and Lois Jean Fortner of Levelland, the child's biological aunt and uncle.

On that day, Nov. 12, 1979, Valderas finalized Stevie's adoption by the Fortner's, waiving the standard six-month waiting period, and denying the Dawson's adoption petition of a child they had considered their own for 18 months.

What happened between May 22, 1978-one day after Stevie's first birthday and the day he came to live with the Dawsons-and Nov. 12, 1979 has been described variously by those involved as "a nightmare," "a circus," and "completely unbelievable," and led to one of the longest adoption trials in this state's history.

The case involved five lawyers, six parties and a parade of witnesses that included six psychologists, one from as far away as New York. During a large part of the trial, testimony and cross-examinations were going on six days a week, from 2 p.m. until 10 p.m.

In his decision, the judge commented on the attorneys' persistence, since each became ill at some time during the trial, as did the two court reporters.

The official court transcript and statement of facts from the trial, which lasted from mid-June until the end of October 1979, is 15,000 pages long and will cost an estimated $50,000 to have copied to launch an appeal.

That amount of money and the Texas Court of Civil Appeals record on reversing adoption decisions are the main stumbling blocks prohibiting the Dawsons from trying to bring Stevie back to their East Texas home.

"You just keep on hoping for a miracle," said Mrs. Dawson with tears in her eyes.

That miracle will have to come soon. The Dawson's have only until March 22 or 23 to notify the court they are appealing the decision.

The Dawsons hoped until last week the Latter Day Saints Social Services Agency, the agency that first placed Stevie in their home, would finance the appeal. Mrs. Dawson said they received notice from LDS attorneys last week the agency felt it could not justify putting any more money into the case.

"We don't blame the agency," the Dawsons both insist.

"The agency has put in over $150,000," Mrs. Dawson said. "The LDS agency feels they've already spent all they can spend."

LDS Social Services, supported by the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints (the Mormons), was named as a respondent in the case because it was the official conservator of Stevie.

Stevie's biological parents, Robert and Sieglinde H. Donati of El Paso voluntarily gave up their parental rights to Stevie, known then as William Frank

Donati, in April 1978. They turned the child over to an attorney with the understanding he would be given to LDS Social Services, who would in turn place him in a Mormon home.

The couple made a specific request at the time that their child not be placed with any blood relative.

Donati, who still resides in El Paso, explained the procedure and the request. Donati said his former wife (the Donatis have divorced since placing the child for adoption) had a history of mental problems and was suffering from mental illness and anxiety after their son was born and was unable to properly care for the child.

Mrs. Donati is German and at that time spoke little English. Donati said that after carefully considering the situation he and his wife decided their son would be better cared for in a more stable family environment and decided to place him for adoption.

Donati said before giving up the child he had first approached his family for help with his problems, but that they completely refused. Donati said relations between he and his father, Angelo Vincent Donati of Raton, N.M., have been nonexistent for years, as have relations between he and his sister Lois Jean Fortner. "There is a lot of late in my family between my family and myself and Sieglinde. They wouldn't so much as talk to her when we visited (before giving up the child). They wouldn't so much as talk to me," Donati said. “And my father absolutely refused even to see the child."

Donati said he tried to introduce his wife to his sister and brother-in-law, but the Fortners "wouldn't stay around long enough for me to drive from one area of town to another for me to introduce her."

Donati said he "very definitely" sought help from his family to help keep the child but that they wouldn't listen to him, and he described his entire family relationship now as "a poor situation."

"So now we have the situation whereby my child is with someone who hates me," Donati said, and he added there is no way the child can come out of the situation without being harmed.

Judge Valderas apparently thought Stevie would suffer from the move and awarded a court-appointed psychologist who testified during the trial, Dr. Beatrice Matheny, $10,000 to continue monitoring Stevie's progress and administer any needed psychological counseling.

[From Longview Morning Journal, Mar. 17, 1980]

LITTLE STEVIE BECAME THE CENTER OF LEGAL WRANGLE OVER CUSTODY

Robert and Sieglinde H. Donati signed papers terminating their parental rights to their son in April 1978 in El Paso's district court. In a telephone interview from that city, Donati said that before he and his former wife (they are now divorced) relinquished their son, "we requested it very strongly," that the child be placed in a home with a family who practiced the Morman faith.

He said they especially stipulated the child not be placed with any blood relative, explaining "there is a lot of hate between my family and myself and her (his wife.)" Donati said his family had refused to help him care for the child when his wife began having mental difficulties and could no longer adequately care for the child.

After custody of Stevie was given to the Latter Day Saints Social Services Agency in Fort Worth, Stevie was placed in a foster home while an adoptive home was found.

Blanton and Betty Dawson said they had been approved by the agency in April 1978 after months of home studies, investigations and testing had been done on the fitness of their home and their stability as a family.

"It seemed like we had been waiting forever," Mrs. Dawson said. The Dawsons have one teen-age adopted daughter, Lorena.

Ann Gore, the area adoption coordinator for LDS Social Services, conducted most of the studies in the Dawson's home and delivered Stevie to them after the agency selected their home for the then 1-year-old blond-haired boy.

"I have to say that of all the placements I've ever made, the child made an adjustment in that home that was just unbelievable," Mrs. Gore said. "He was just like he always belonged there. They had a birthday party for him the night he first came home. They had a crowd over there, they had homemade ice cream and cake and balloons were going. And he was just thrilled."

But while Stevie was enjoying his first birthday party, trouble had already begun. There is some discrepancy between the arguing parties on when Jimmy and Lois Jean Fortner of Levelland first contacted LDS to tell them they wanted the child, but most agree it was shortly after Stevie was placed in the Dawson's home. But even before LDS was officially notified, the Fortners said they repeatedly tried to tell the agency they wished to adopt the child but would not be heard.

The first legal proceedings for Stevie, though, came from Robert Donati's parents, Mr. and Mrs. Angelo Vincent Donati of Raton, N.M. The grandparents filed seeking visitation rights to their grandchild. The grandparents waited until June 1978, after the biological parents rights had been legally terminated, before attempting to get legal backing to visit the child—a child Vincent Donati admitted he had no desire to see until after he no longer legally belonged to his son, Robert Donati. Bob Donati testified in court that his father had once refused even to come into the house and visit his grandchild when Bob and Sieglinde Donati took him for a visit.

LDS Social Services Agency meanwhile had not yet told the Dawsons about the Fortner's interest in adopting Stevie. During the trial a spokesman for the agency said they were trying to abide by the biological parents' wishes and to protect the confidentiality of both the biological and adoptive parents.

But in his 30-page decision, Judge Harold L. Valderas did not accept the agency's defense and repeatedly accused them of misuse and abuse of its authority. "This case is the most mishandled adoption that this court has ever seen in its 25 years' involvement in adoptions," Valderas said. "The callousness and insensitivity demonstrated by the agency in dealing with this child's best interest is unprecedented. This agency completely misused and abused its authority in this case to the complete detriment of not only the child but also of the foster parents and the natural parents as well as the other family of the child."

The judge's reference to "foster parents' is one example of his ire against the agency. In two legal forms the agency used in preparing the Dawsons' adoption proceedings, the term "foster parents" was mistakenly used instead of "adoptive parents." The agency termed it a technical error and produced other evidence showing the Dawsons were never Stevie's foster parents, nor never intended to be. But Valderas ruled the Dawsons were foster parents and referred to them as such throughout the trial.

The Dawsons view that decision as one of the worst in the trial.

"In the long run, who's going to be concerned if a child is taken from his foster parents and placed in a permanent home?" Dawson said, as he displayed papers from LDS approving them as adoptive parents.

Another controversial decision during the trial was when Valderas ruled confidentiality in the case should be broken-allowing the biological and adoptive parents' names to be released. During most adoption trials, adoption agencies fight to keep the records closed to protect the names of the biological parents who gave up the child and the adoptive parents who would prefer to remain anonymous to the biological parents.

In August 1978 Lois and Jean Fortner filed for adoption of Stevie in Valderas' court. Mrs. Fortner said she had repeatedly tried to talk with the agency concerning Stevie's adoption but was ignored.

Mrs. Fortner said her husband was not immediately convinced they should try to get the child (the Fortners already had three sons, one only a few months younger than Stevie, and had decided to have no more children) but after some discussion they agreed that Stevie should live with a blood relative. Mrs. Fortner explained her feelings upon learning that Stevie had been placed for adoption. "Well as far as my feelings go, I just felt like I had lost a loved one. No, I'd never seen him. But I felt like he had died," she said.

Mrs. Fortner said that there were never any doubts in her mind that they would eventually gain custody of Stevie.

"We just prayed about it and the Lord assured us that we would get him," she said.

Prayers and religion played a large part in the case-some contend too large a part. Bob Donati said the judge was prejudiced against LDS and for his parents, Stevie's grandparents, who were Catholic. Valderas had done legal work for a Catholic adoption agency before being appointed by Gov. Dolph Briscoe to the district judgeship April 1, 1977.

Valderas questioned the agency's practice of placing children only in Mormon families,

"Another interesting question involved here is that this agency only places children with Mormon families," Valderas said in his decision. "Now, this is a licensed agency for the state serving the public, not particularly the church group. Questions are raised, is this proper to restrict the availability of a child to a home of a particular religion?"

Mrs. Gore defended the agency's practices, and said all religious-affiliated adoption agencies place their children in homes of the same religion or denomination.

"That's what the Department of Human Resources is for; they place children without preference to a religion," Mrs. Gore said. “And I would like to add that LDS has had an excellent relationship with the DHR."

Valderas was critical of the state agency too, claiming DHR had not properly monitored the LDS agency's procedures.

"All of this could have been avoided if the Texas Department of Human Resources had properly monitored the operations of this agency which it had licensed," Valderas said.

Sept. 13, 1978, almost four months since Stevie had come to live with the Dawsons, that family was notified there were problems brewing in the adoption case. It was on that day the Dawsons were notified by LDS that the grandparents Donati wanted visitation rights to the little boy.

Tomorrow's story details the judge's decision on both the visitation and adoption questions and begins to explain how Stevie's story may affect other adoptions in Texas. [From Longview Morning Journal, Mar. 19, 1980]

GILMER COUPLE DECLINED OFFER TO EXCHANGE STEVIE

Blanton and Betty Dawson were informed in a meeting with Latter Day Saints Social Services Agency workers Sept. 13, 1978 that a problem had arisen in their case. At this time, the Dawsons were told only that Stevie's biological grandparents (unnamed at the time) wanted visitation rights.

The Dawsons said they first opposed the idea of visitation but later, as they realized how serious the fight for Stevie had become, agreed, hoping to appease the family. But by that time the Fortners had already filed for adoption, hired a lawyer and were proceeding with their case.

"When they told us there was a problem they (the agency) offered to take Stevie back and give us another child," Mrs. Dawson recalled. "But Stevie was ours, he was our son; how could we give him back?"

By November 1978 Valderas had taken legal conservatorship away from LDS Social Services and placed it with the Texas Department of Human Resources, ordering the DHR to conduct home studies of the suitability of both the Dawson and Fortner homes.

Valderas refused to comment on the case or any of his decisions in the case, saying "I wouldn't want to hurt their chances, their case for appeal."

The worker who conducted the home study of the Dawsons for the DHR in Upshur County no longer works for the department. The supervisor for a Fort Worth child protective agency that reportedly conducted a study of both homes refuses to discuss the case without a court order. Valderas won't comment on one home's advantages over the other's.

The Dawsons and former LDS adoption coordinator Ann Gore insist all the DHR reports, including one done by a Lubbock area DHR on the Fortner's home, recommended Stevie remain with the Dawsons. All the DHR information came before the judge in January 1979, and Valderas gave conservatorship back to the LDS agency Feb. 9, 1979.

"At first we were pleased, we thought it was a good sign he gave conservatorship back to the agency," Dawson said. "But later we realized it was a mistake. "See, it was easier for him to do all this with LDS, a private agency. It would have been a lot harder if conservatorship had remained with the welfare department (DHR), a state agency. There would have been a lot more people watching.

In April 1979 the Fortners and grandparents Donati petitioned the judge to break the confidentiality of the adoptive parents' real name. Before that time the Dawsons had been referred to as "Mr. and Mrs. X" in all the legal proceedings and had not appeared in court at the same time as the Fortners and Donatis. Valderas agreed to break confidentiality. He also appointed an attorney ad litem (a court-appointed attorney representing the interests of the minor child) and a court-appointed psychologist, Dr. Beatrice Matheny.

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