Fragment 11: The Life & Times of a Social Experiment
Yet more revelations about my origins and very early life
Image: Shutterstock
Fragment 10 concluded with the discovery of my father’s name. Of all the information revealed by the file of papers I received on 23rd June 2009, this felt, to me, to be the most significant. Most significant? Maybe that’s not quite right. But the weight it carried in terms of where I had come from felt crucially important. The most important key to my origins, perhaps? Something like that.
The forms provided other surprises as well. For example, the fact that, although the papers were signed when I was just three weeks old, Mum and I were already living apart! There are the addresses both of Mum’s home and the foster home where I had been placed. Courtesy of the miracle of Google Maps I can see that these Plymouth addresses are a couple of miles apart.
I learn, also, that I had weighed in at 7lb 4oz and seemed pretty healthy – specifically, I had neither syphilis nor tuberculosis. Well, that’s a comfort.
The form also states that the cost of maintenance per child, in the run-up to adoption, was around 16/- (80 pence or $1) per week of which my Mum indicates that she could manage to contribute 7/6d (37.5 pence)
On 3rd December 1945 The National Children’s Home & Orphanage acknowledged receipt of the documents, restating that there was a waiting list. Then, dated 21st January 1946, there is a report from a Sister Evelyn Wakely to the Children’s Home organisation:
Report re Roger Wilson
Called at [Address 1], Plymouth, & saw Miss Wilson, Mother of the above named child. She appeared a very respectable girl. Looks very healthy. Said she had never had a day’s illness. Is living with her G/mother, & is employed in a Factory. States that her G/mother, who is 86, is quite unable to look after the child for her, so at present is with a foster-mother. Miss Wilson feels she cannot carry on with this arrangement, on account of the expense, & also that adoption is in the best interests of the child.
Father of child. American soldier. Appeared to be a healthy man. Said that his people had a business in the States. Efforts to trace him have failed.
Called at [Address 2], Plymouth. A poor type of foster home. Saw the child. Appears to be a healthy, bonny baby, & I should say quite suitable for adoption. Looks well cared for. Foster-mother takes him to the Clinic each week, and they are quite satisfied with his progress. Foster-mother does not appear to be in any hurry to part with him.
The arrangements appear, indeed, to have continued because the next communication on file to Mum is around six months later, dated 14th June 1946:
Dear Miss Wilson,
re: Roger Frank Wilson
We are sorry not to have been able to write earlier, for we were very glad to have the information you kindly gave to Sister Evelyn Wakely when she came to see you in January.
We are now in touch with prospective adopters at Truro, whom we hope may be interested in Roger, and will write to you again shortly as, if the people in question decide to consider Roger, they will be coming over to see you.
If Roger should go to them, he will have much love and every care, and the advantage of a happy Christian home and healthy country surroundings.
Yours sincerely
Sounds idyllic, huh? ‘A happy Christian home.’ ‘Healthy country surroundings.’ Maybe I have a long back-dated claim under the Trades Descriptions Act! Anyway, a week later, Mum was in for a bit of a setback:
Dear Miss Wilson,
re: Roger Frank Wilson
The adopters we mentioned have now written that they really want a little girl if possible, so we must be on the alert for another possibility for Roger, and hope we shall be able to write to you in this connection soon.
Yours sincerely
Well, well, this was something that George and Nellie never vouchsafed to me! Perhaps that’s understandable. But my Mum wasn’t going to just give up. She gave me a promotional boost:
He has grown into a beautiful boy & I know that if these people you are in touch with at Truro decide to see him, they will automatically come to love him as much as I do. As he gets older it is becoming harder than ever to have to give him up, but owing to the circumstances I have no alternative, as I explained to Sister Wakely when she called.
But as long as he has the love and care he deserves, I suppose it’s the best I can do.
I trust you will inform me of any further developments, and should the people in question wish to see Roger, and let me know, I will arrange same.
Things moved quickly. On 24th June 1946 this letter was sent to my Mum:
Dear Miss Wilson,
Roger Frank Wilson
Further to ours of the 20th inst, I am glad to tell you that the adopters have written today that they have been thinking matters over and feel that if Roger appeals to them they would like to have him and not wait for a little girl, as they really so much want a child in their home, and we can assure you that whether it be boy or girl, the little one will have real love and every care.
They have written that they would like to come and see Roger on July 1st or 2nd, and they will send you a line direct as to which day. Their name and address are:-
[Name and address]
We do hope that this will lead to a happy adoption for the sake of all concerned, and shall await with interest in due course the result of their interview with you.
Yours sincerely
The ‘interview’ presumably went well because, on 9th July 1946, a letter was sent to Mum:
Dear Miss Wilson,
Roger Frank Wilson
We are so glad at the prospect of Roger having a happy home, with all that the love of parents, care and security means, not only in childhood, but through the years, and we know you will kindly give Mr & Mrs Pinder all the information you can, for as they are undertaking the entire responsibility, they will welcome such help.
The legal formalities in an adoption do not ensue until the adoption has been effected between two and three months, and you will then be required to sign certain forms, which we shall send to you.
As we are arranging this adoption, it must of course, be carried out on our usual lines, as we shall be a party to the legal proceedings, and that means that any correspondence with regard to adoption after Roger has gone to Mr & Mrs Pinder must be with ourselves, and not with them. We will gladly keep you informed, and can assure you that Roger will be very fortunate if ultimately accepted as their little son, which we quite anticipate will be the case.
Yours sincerely
As you might imagine, for me, reading the correspondence feels very strange. At that time, only months after the end of a devastating world war that had left Britain physically and mentally battered, and financially bust, there were far bigger problems than those affecting one small child. But when you are that one small child it is wholly personal and feels desperately sad. I grew to love George and Nellie, but there can be no doubt that they were far from well-equipped to become adoptive parents, and the due diligence of the adoption society does seem to have left something to be desired. Although, I guess, given the circumstances perhaps situations like this were inevitable. And, oh, isn’t their punctuation interesting.
I never ever got to meet either of my parents or any other family members … so far, anyway.
So we come to the end of this stage of the proceedings. A letter dated 15th August 1946 to my Mum states:
We are informed that Mr & Mrs Pinder were receiving Roger on the 13th inst, and we hope that a successful adoption will ensue.
Then, on the 22nd January 1947, when I was nearly 15 months old, this:
Dear Miss Wilson,
Roger Frank Wilson
We are glad to tell you that the Adoption Order has now been granted, and the adopters write very happily about David, as he is now called.
Should you feel you would like news of him at any time, will you please write to us, and we will gladly send you information.
Yours sincerely,
So there it is. Transaction completed. As far as I know, Mum never took up the offer to receive news of me. I started trying to find out about her in the second half of the noughties. It was too late, she had died in 2002. So how she felt and how she dealt with her loss will, it seems, forever remain a mystery. Then, of course, there’s Dad. Who was he? Could I find out anything about him? We’ll see.
Beyond all of this search and conjecture there is, of course, the more holistic debate. Do one’s roots really matter at all? Isn’t what you make of your life more important than the cards you are dealt? Indeed, might it not even be beneficial to be ‘unhampered’ by all the stuff about origins? Doesn’t Sartre’s “Existence before essence” mantra for the existentialist cause imply just that? Let’s investigate some of these points in future fragments.
Next, however, with these basic facts revealed, I’ll try to take the narrative a little further. After all, I have the good sense (for once) to become a teenager at just the time when teenagers are invented, and with the Swinging Sixties just ahead.
If you have been, thanks for reading.