Searching For Irene

Chapter 1
Growing up an adoptee

I was born on April 5, 1952 and was adopted by Emory and Betty Schroeder of the Jewish faith in Baltimore Maryland. Betty couldn't conceive and their desperation to have a child was overwhelming.

When I was born, Emory was 30 and a hard working bar owner. Betty was 25 and a house wife. My birth mother, Irene, was a 21 year old unmarried girl with little education from the hills of Virginia living in Baltimore city and taking care of her sick mother. She took any type of job she could get her hands on, including working in a cleaners and working in a bar. In those days, it was a big disgrace for an unmarried woman to have a child. So, being very poor and unable to take care of a child, she made the miraculous decision to gave me up for adoption rather then having an abortion.

The amazing thing about my adoption was it took place on Betty's birthday, April 6, 1952, the very next day after I was born. Another surprising event that happened later on was Betty was finally able to conceive, and ten months later, on November 5th 1953, my adopted sister Jacke was born. Hooray! another child had arrived in the family.

At that time, adoption records in Maryland were sealed in the court and couldn't be seen by either party. This was done to protect all parents as well as the child from any adverse circumstances. I believe this was also the policy of most states at the time. That is why it is almost impossible for adoptees to find out any information about their birth parents and vise versa.

I'm not too sure about how my actual adoption process transpired, but I believe that Betty and Emory were friends with the lawyer and the doctor who conducted most of the adoptions at that time. I assume it wasn't too difficult for them to adopt a child. As soon as a child was available for adoption, they would know about it.

Betty and Emory lived on the outskirts of Baltimore city in a very large two story wooden house with sprawling grounds and old trees. A large gray wooden porch with it's white wooden railing stretched out the entire length of the house. In the front of the house, there were just about eight wide concrete steps leading up to the porch which was the main entrance. At the bottom of the steps, a concrete sidewalk stretched out about sixty feet to the entrance of the street. We occupied the entire first floor and rented out the rest of the house which consisted of two apartments on the very lower "basement" floor and one apartment on the second floor. A black maid, Mamee, came once a week to clean the house and do the laundry.

We had a very smart watch dog named Peepup. Actually, his name came about when I was being taught how to say "puppy", I said it backwards, so they named him Peepup. The amazing thing about Peepup was he instinctively knew I was a baby and that I needed to be protected. My mother Betty also knew this. She would put me in a baby carriage and leave me outside on the sixty foot long pavement with Peepup up on the porch watching me. She put her 100% confidence in Peepup and his ability to safely watch me. Peepup was my protector. If anyone came on the grounds, Peepup would protect me by chasing them away. As I grew a little older, around two or three, I used to play with him in the front yard. He was my best and only friend.

One sad day came along that really devastated me. I truly believe this event has an effect on me today. I was playing with Peepup in the front yard as usual, and he always came to me when I called his name. But this particular day, for some odd reason, he didn't come to me. I called his name and he actually started walking away. I called and called but he kept walking further away up the street. My heart sank right down to my stomach and I never saw him again. I was totally devastated. Today, I have a severe fear of rejection, and I just wonder if this incident has something to do with it.

Another fear that creeped into my life is a fear of closed in spaces. I believe this was caused by a life threatening experience I went through with my sister Jacke. I also believe that I had a personal angel who rescued me from this terrible experience. Ever since this event took place, it made me a believer that we are all here on this earth to do a specific task or learn something for a specific reason, and we all have our own personal angels watching over us to make sure we accomplish this task before we die. With that being said, I truly believe that my personal angels also helped me to find Irene.

This life threatening event happened around the time when Jacke was a year and a half old and I was three years old. One particular afternoon, our mom had gone out to do some shopping leaving our maid Mamee at home to take care of us. My memory is somewhat vague of the events about to take place, but I think I can put it together. The second floor apartment was unoccupied at this time, and Jacke and I had somehow made our way up there. In the middle of the room there was an old refrigerator that was empty. These old fridges were unable to be opened from the inside. Anyway, I opened it and some how communicated to Jacke that I wanted to get in. I related to her that I will get in but don't shut the door. She said she wouldn't and I climbed in. She slammed the door shut and I couldn't get out. It was a very frightening experience. It was dark and I had this strange feeling that I was going to die, although I really didn't know what death was at my age. I remember there was some kind of a card that I picked up which I started to read although I couldn't see anything. It was a very, very scary experience to say the least. I heard Jacke banging on the back and I hollered for her to open the door but she didn't. Well, it was only a few minutes later that the door miraculously opened and someone let me out. To this day, I remember that the person or angel who opened that door was a man. I didn't know him, and that is all I remember of that frightening day.

I truly believe it was my personal protective angel who opened that door. It just wasn't my time to die yet as my life purpose hadn't been fulfilled. I will never forget that experience, as it is etched in my brain like it happened yesterday. This life threatening event has made me a believer in the existence of angels which are here to protect each one of us until we complete our life task.

As time went on, my mother Betty conceived again, and on July 4th, 1956 my adopted brother Steve was born. By this time, we moved to another neighborhood which was a series of brick row homes on Lynview Avenue located in northwest Baltimore city. Actually, there were two sets of row homes, one on each side of the street. A sidewalk ran up and down the street in front of the homes, and cars were able to parallel park near the curb on either side of this two way street.

Looking back, I truly believe this was the most incredible neighborhood that ever existed. There were a lot of guys my age that I grew up with. On my side of the street there was Bruce Kent next door to me on one side, and Bobby and Ceva Settlen on the other side, who were my parent's best friends, and their children Billy, who was four years older then me, and Julie, who was my age. Harry Sideman lived on the corner, Stuart Ash in the middle, Maury Frieman and Mark Friedman were up the street. Across the street was Alan Messer, My Aunt Shirley and Uncle Mel, who was my mother's brother, and their children my cousin Michael and their daughter Marsha who was four years older then me. There was also Eddie Brilliant, Howard Goldberg, Raymond Gordon, and Steven Katz, all my age. We were all friends with each other and there was plenty of things for us to do. We played softball, were on a little league, rode our bikes with each other, played hide and seek and punch ball...you name it, we did it.

Right in the middle of the block on my side of the street there were two sisters, Marilyn and Sandy Seigel. Marilyn was a year younger then me and Sandy was my age. During the summer months most of the kids would gather on their front porch in the evening. Their house was known as the party house. We would play all types of games and sometimes watch TV. The shows I remember were The Twilight Zone and Alfred Hitchcock. This was around 1964, and In those days, it was common for people to sit out on their front porch and enjoy the brisk summer air and talk to their neighbors. You really don't see this anymore. It's a shame but those types of neighborhoods just fell by the wayside.

The only problem for me was that it was a Jewish neighborhood, and all of the kids had dark hair and dark eyes which seemed to be a "trait" among Jewish people. I, on the other hand, had blonde hair and blue eyes which was a "trait" among non-Jewish people. I believe this was a unique phenomenon. I was the only one who had blonde hair and blue eyes, and I realized that my birth mother probably wasn't Jewish. This is the first time that being adopted and feeling different came into my consciousness. My self consciousness turned into shyness and I eventually withdrew mentally and emotionally. My self esteem eroded away to the point that I couldn't look people in the eye, and most of the time I stared down at the ground. I was an emotional mess.

My mother took me to a child psychiatrist at Johns Hopkins when I was around 8 years old. We would go there once a week, and at that point in my life, my self esteem was already low, so going there would just make me think that something must really be wrong with me. I always felt depressed, and I thought that this was how you're supposed to feel when you are no good. My belief system started to develop around the fact that I was defective and different then the rest of the world.

All throughout my childhood I was told that I was adopted, so it wasn't any surprise for me. Hearing this for the first few times was confusing because I really didn't understand why I had to be adopted. It also made me feel very different from my brother and sister. My adopted parents weren't shy about telling me I was adopted. It came up quite often. They explained to me that out of all the babies that were born, they chose me. That made me feel a little better, but it really didn't soothe the fact that deep down inside I knew I was different and I didn't want to be. I was hurt and confused. I also looked very different from my brother and sister.

In the Jewish faith, a non-Jewish male was called a schagitz, usually with light hair and blue eyes, and a non-Jewish female was a schicksa. As I mentioned previously, dark hair and dark eyes seemed to be a Jewish trait, and I definitely didn't look Jewish. I really felt awkward and self conscious about this, and I lived with this feeling for a good part of my teen and young adult life.

Grammar school was very boring to me. In the early years, grades 1 through 5, I would just sit in the class and stare out of the window. During the spring, the windows would be opened and I could hear and smell the fascinating outside world. At least it was more interesting then what was going on in the classroom. I would listen to the buzz saw in the distance cutting down the trees. The aroma of the outside air filled my nose and took me to places far far away from the classroom. My daydream fantasies were filled with the excitement that only a fantasy world could bring. Yet, in my safe dream world, I always had to come back to reality and face the real world.

As this went on, I grew up thinking I was so defective that I wasn't capable of doing anything well. When I say anything, I mean anything. I thought I couldn't do well in school because I believed I was stupid, so I didn't do well. In fact, I was punished in the third grade for causing some problems in the classroom. The teacher, Mrs. Watts, put my desk at the front of the classroom up against the wall, and all I had to stare at all day was the wall. To this day, I believe this caused some damage to my psychological health. From that point on, I considered myself a poor student and therefore I always did poorly in school. I almost failed sixth grade if it wasn't for the intervention of the teacher. She made arrangements with my parents to get me a math tutor. After several sessions with the tutor, my grades improved and I was able to pass. This was a very tough time in my life, and I was lucky that I never failed a grade since then.

By the time I turned 12, the fact that I felt and looked different then my family really hit me hard. I used to stare in the mirror just examining my physical features and hating myself because I looked so much different. My emotions would run wild...first I would get angry, then I would get sad...then I would feel self conscious. I was always absorbed in a constant stew of negative feelings. I would constantly wish I could have dark hair and dark eyes just like the rest of my family.

One day as I was staring in the mirror in my parent's bedroom, I paid very close attention to the way my nose looked. It didn't look like the "typical" Jewish nose and I ask my mom if she would let me get a nose job. Of course she refused. Then one day I walked up to the local corner drugstore and bought some dark brown hair dye. I died my hair dark brown and really felt stupid about it. It just goes to show you that I couldn't win either way. I felt stupid dying my hair and I felt terrible with blonde hair. At that point, I left well enough alone until another time and place.

It was unfortunate for me to look so different from the rest of my family and the neighborhood as it only caused emotional hang ups. Every time one of my parent's friends would come over to our house, they would always say that I looked like a schagitz. Even my aunt Shirley would say this to me. She would say "come here my little shagitz, just give me a hug." Other people would say this as well. I tried to emotionally block it out, and it must have worked because there is so much that I don't remember about my childhood.

When I turned 15, I used to go to a teen dance center every Friday night in the neighboring Baltimore county where the so called "rich" Jewish kids lived. I considered my neighborhood middle class and their neighborhood upper middle class. The dance took place in the gymnasium of Wellwood Elementary School and was called Wellwood teen center. It was chaperoned by Mr. and Mrs. Wilder. There was always a band performing and sometimes it got so crowded that you couldn't move. Needless to say, I wasn't much of a dancer, but there were two girls there who were best friends and they always caught my attention when they danced. One night I got brave and I asked one of them what her name was. She told me her name was Gail Peterson and she was 14. I was so excited just to know this because I really did like her from just watching her dance.

The very next day I looked up her phone number and called her. I remember we talked for a while and then we made plans to meet each other. It must have been a miracle but she became my first girlfriend and my first true love. I was really driven to be with her so when I went over to her house, I didn't mind taking a bus from my house to about half way to her house and then walking the rest of the way. I always felt self conscious when I walked down her street, because she lived in such a fancy upper middle class neighborhood. I was constantly worried if I was dressed OK or if my hair was in place. A lot of my energy was spent on how I presented myself to others as I was very self absorbed, and always felt like I was defective. In my mind, I didn't want anyone to think anything was wrong with me.

By the time I turned 16, I got my drivers license. My parents didn't have a problem lending me their car so I could go out. I borrowed it once a week on either a Friday or a Saturday night to take Gail out. I would pick her up at her house and we would tell her parents we were going to the library. What we really did was go park on a desolate street that was near her grandparent's house. We stayed there for hours. It was the first time I kissed a girl. We did this as often as we could and were truly in love. It was an experience I'll never forget.
From the time I was 18 until I was 20, our relationship was on very unstable ground. Most of the negative things that happened to us was my fought. I was a very unstable person and I actually developed the signs and symptoms of obsessive compulsive disorder, although at that time I wasn't diagnosed. I really didn't think anything was wrong with me, but this ailment as well as a series of other negative events tipped our relationship in a downward spiral. Our relationship only lasted until I was 20 then we had to part and go our own ways.

Another major event that occurred when I was 16 was I auditioned to be a bass guitar player in a local band called the Star Sapphires. One night they played a dance at the local Jewish Community Center which my sister Jacke attended. She told me about the dance a few days later and that the Star Sapphires played. I really didn't know who they were as they were her friends. But, I had been playing the guitar since I was thirteen and really wanted to join a band, so I asked her to ask them If I could join their band as a guitar player. She did and told me that they needed a bass player as they already had two guitar players. I thought about this for a while and I decided that I would audition as a bass player. I knew nothing about playing the bass, but I thought it couldn't be too difficult, so I told my mom about this and she thought it was a good idea.

The following Saturday she took me to a local music store and bought me a bass guitar and an amp. The only problem was I needed someone to teach me to play, and the answer was just around the corner.

At that time, my father owned a night club called the Escapade in Baltimore city. Amazingly enough, the bass player in the house band was the same age as me and even looked like me a little.....he wasn't Jewish! He showed me a few standard playing techniques which was enough to play a few songs. I learned quickly and was able to do a successful audition with the Star Sapphires. Needless to say, I was accepted into the band.

There were four guys in the group... Louis, on guitar, Speedy, on guitar, Steve, the singer, and Joe on the drums. Louis' older sister was the band's manager. The amazing thing about them was they were Jewish, and they all had dark hair and dark eyes. I can't begin to describe to you how self conscious and awkward I felt being around them. I tried not to think about it, but the negative and insecure feelings about how different I looked would constantly haunt me.

This one particular day we were getting prepared to play a party. The fact that I looked so much different then the other guys weighed heavily on my mind, so before we met to go to the party I died my hair dark brown. We always met at Jeannie and Louis' house to go on the job. This particular day, with my hair dark brown, I drove up to Louis' house and Jeanie was standing outside. As I got out of the car and approached her she asked me "what did you do to your hair?" Well, I felt even more self conscious then ever before. Again, I just couldn't win, I felt stupid dying my hair and I felt self conscious with blonde hair. My emotions were playing a mean game of tug of war, and I just couldn't win either way.

Eventually, the band grew in numbers from five to thirteen. This was due to the firing of Steve, the singer, and the addition of five black singers and a four piece horn section. It happened so fast that it seemed like it happened over night. Actually, it was Joe's brother Steve who found the black singers. The horn section developed through newspaper ads and some word of mouth. By the time the band was reformed, we exclusively played soul songs of the early and late 60's. We played on TV twice and actually had a pretty good following.

Although things seemed to be going well with the band, I found myself feeling very self conscious about my looks as well as my ability to play the bass. I didn't feel like I fit in because the people who were the other band members friends weren't my friends. Almost every time we played, some friends of Speedy or Lou would come along, but since they weren't my friends, I felt like an outsider. Maybe it was because I was so introverted that turned people away from me, but I just didn't feel comfortable being in the band. It got to the point where I was afraid to make a mistake or say the wrong thing, then I would get laughed at. Actually, on one occasion I was laughed at and I didn't want it to happen again, so I just kept quiet and didn't talk to anyone unless I had to.

As I previously said , I was sixteen when I joined the band, and I was only in it for a short while then I quit. By this time I was seventeen and a half, I don't recall the details very well, but I do remember that I was the first one to leave. I thought it was time for me to get out of an uncomfortable situation and move on. My decision to leave was a sad day. I really put a lot of hope and work into the band. The one good thing that did happen was I became a better bass player, and this prepared me for my next musical adventure.

When I was 18, our family had moved from Lynview Avenue to a brand new house on Allenswood Road in Baltimore County. Amazingly enough, Steven Katz and a few others from around the old neighborhood moved out there as well. Right around that time I joined a band called Turn Blue. This was a totally different type of band compared to the Star Sapphires. We played music that was geared more for the keyboard, as Kenny Miller was the organ player and band leader. It was Kenny on the keys, David on the guitar, Elliott on the drums, Jay as the singer, and me playing the bass. We did a heck of a lot of practicing mostly over Elliott's house in his garage.

We played a lot of band jobs most of which were school dances. All of the guys were Jewish with dark hair and dark eyes, and again I felt very self conscious. I also did the same thing I did when I was in the Star Sapphires, I quit the band after a short period of time, and I was the first one to leave. My reason for quitting was the same in that I felt self conscious and uncomfortable, but this time there was an additional reason, I had the chance to go to Europe.

The year was 1971. I had a cousin Paul, who oddly enough has the same name as me but is just a few months older, who attended the University of Maryland. We practically grew up together, and by this time we knew each other pretty well. He informed me that he was traveling to Europe in July on a student chartered flight, and he asked me if I wanted to go. After thinking it over for a few days I told him I would go. I was still in the band at that time but I informed the band members that I was leaving and told them why. We found a bass player to replace me and I helped him with the music for a few weeks. At that point, I left the band and sold all of my equipment to get the money to go to Europe.

Although I wasn't a U of M student, I was allowed to go because I was a full time community college student at Catonsville Community College in Maryland. At this point in my life I was nineteen and my self esteem was still at an all time low. My emotions were all mixed up, and I was doing a lot of obsessing about who my birth mother was. My mind was preoccupied with wanting to talk to her.

I told my cousin what was going on and he suggested that I ask my parents if they could help me find her. I was very hesitant to do this because I was afraid they would think I didn't love them and that I was being disrespectful. But, I did ask them and they were surprisingly receptive. They told me they knew the judge in the Baltimore Circuit Court and they would ask him if he could open my birth records. Amazingly enough, he was the lawyer who conducted my adoption when I was born, so my parents knew him well.

It finally came, the day we were going to see him. The anticipation that was building up inside of me was more then I could stand. I just kept thinking that I will finally find out who my birth mother is. The excitement that was running through my veins was nothing I've ever felt before. This was the most exciting day of my life.

As we sat in his chambers, He had the birth records on a table. He told me a little about what was in them then he let me read them. There wasn't a lot of information, but I did find out two important things, her name and where she was born. I also found out my birth father's name. That was all the information I came away with.

Anyway, I figured since I knew her name maybe I could look in the phone book and call everyone with that same last name to see if I could find her. When I got home that day, I did just that. I remember making the phone calls with no results. I was so disappointed that I came to the conclusion that it wasn't meant for me to know who she was, so I left it at that and put it in the back of my mind. I now had to focus on going to Europe.

Before I went to Europe, I was still seeing Gail but not as frequently. When I told her I was going to Europe with my cousin she got very upset. My mode of thinking was I better go to Europe now when I have the chance because I might not ever get the chance again. My feelings for Gail were still there, but I had suppressed them to a certain extent as I will definitely find out later when I arrive in Switzerland. It was a tough time for her because she didn't want me to go, and if I knew of the emotional explosion I was going to have when I arrived in Greece, I never would have gone.