December 23–30, 1999
cover story
What Happened Next?
Second acts, surprising twists and final outcomes: Updates on some of City Paper’s biggest stories of 1999.
"I would have searched until the day I died, wondering, wondering, wondering," she says. "That’s a terrible burden. But now I know. I know. And that means the world to me."
The Story: Introduced in the Pennsylvania House of Representatives early this year, the Uniform Adoption Act is intended to make adoption laws consistent from state to state. But many activists oppose it because it’s even more restrictive than the laws that already prevent adoptees from obtaining their birth certificates, and birth parents from obtaining any information about the families with whom their children were placed. Linda Hurd was one of the adoption activists interviewed. At the time she knew the twin boys to whom she’d given birth in 1969 only as Baby One and Baby Two — the identifiers printed on the censored birth certificates she was given.
What Happened Next: Through a series of coincidences, one of Linda Hurd’s sons happened to read the story, and the two were reunited.
The reunion was bittersweet; Hurd learned that the other son had been killed in a motorcycle accident in 1990. Still, she was overjoyed to have finally met one of the boys she had vowed to find.
But over the next few weeks, the elation would turn to heartache. Her son (she asked that his name not be used in this article) suddenly became distant; he failed to show up for a previously arranged get-together, then stopped returning calls and e-mails. And when information he’d given her about his brother’s burial appeared not to be correct, Hurd became suspicious.
With Hurd’s consent, City Paper contacted her son again. He explained the apparent inconsistency in his story about his brother and provided information that turned out to be accurate, but also expressed frustration at being questioned. And when Hurd’s daughter sent him a strongly worded e-mail demanding to know why he seemed intent on hurting their mother, he became enraged. In his response he indicated that he wanted no further contact. She hasn’t heard from him since.
She has, however, been told some things about his past that have helped somewhat to explain his reaction. A call to his high school’s alumni association to request a photo of her dead son led, unintentionally, to her learning that the boys had had a hard life.
Obviously, this has only contributed to her regret over giving them up in the first place. But she insists that knowledge, however painful, is infinitely better than speculation. She is more committed than ever to the fight for adoptees’ and birth parents’ right to access to adoption records.
"I would have searched until the day I died, wondering, wondering, wondering," she says. "That’s a terrible burden. But now I know. I know. And that means the world to me."
The Uniform Adoption Act remains in the hands of the State House’s Judiciary Committee. After a series of public hearings, the committee chairman created an adoption task force, which held its first hearing on Dec. 13. Early next year, the task force is expected to begin a line-by-line review of the bill in preparation for a possible re-introduction.
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