Thirteen White Roses
A Biography
by
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Mom’s Lost Children
Written By Janie
Mom hated the river. She would sit at the kitchen window, and watch the river move its way down stream, day after day and yearned for just a glimpse of her children. What would happen to them? Her lot seemed too much to bear. The river just did not take away her grief nor did it drown her sorrows.
Day after day, she sat, lost in thought, remembering the sweet little faces of the children that she had lost. She dreamed about how they would look now, and always kept hope that they would eventually come home to her. She often cried until there were no more tears. She and my eldest sister Melvina searched and exhausted all their ideas in trying to find those of us that were hidden. Our eldest brother Dick also searched for us after returning from the military.
Eventually, we found each other and our parents, but we were grown; which made it seem as if they had just been in a dream we had, or part of a different lifetime. Some of us had lived with parents that adopted us, and we learned to love them. I’m sure Mom and Dad had been thankful that some of us ended up with good parents, but I know their hearts were broken, because they loved us and wanted us back.
I hope they never knew some of the stories that we are about to tell. Included are some of the things that happened to us after the Judge and District Attorney (in 1953) saw fit to do as they did to us, when they were making an example of our parents.
We eight children were separated from our parents and each other. Some were placed in homes where they were mentally, physically, and/or socially abused. We were left hanging in a society filled with people more negligent and troubled than our birth parents would have ever been.
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Where are My Brothers and Sisters?
In December of 1953, Mom and Dad had their thirteenth child, who was at that time, their only child.
Mom and Dad lived with Terry Joe, my youngest brother, in a cabin on the banks of White River, in Indiana. He graduated from Shawswick High School. He did most things that ordinary boys wanted, and possibly more. He just didn’t get to grow up having contact with most of his older brothers and sisters. Mom and Dad had kept him hidden, so that he wouldn’t be taken away like the others.
He would often ask, “Where are my brothers and sisters?” He only knew us through Mom’s memories, which many a time became too painful for her to talk to him about us.