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My Story

I was born on 4th July 1961. My mother, Sandra, was a 16 year old living in Wisbech with her parents. She liked to go dancing with the Americans and with a friend would go to dance halls. On one of these outings she met Charles Lark who was 19 and stationed over here. They went out for a while until he was posted back to the USA, where he married his childhood sweetheart, Alice. Soon after this, he was posted back to the UK to finish his tour of duty. Apparently Sandra and Charles had agreed they should never see each other again, but fate intervened and they did meet at a dance. My mother was in love with him and I believe he loved her too. Of course, the result of them getting together was an unplanned pregnancy.  

Charles stood by her all the way through the pregnancy, although he wasn’t allowed to visit her at her parents house. He even tried to have his Commander adopt me, but Sandra’s mother said she wanted a proper British adoption. Her father wanted to bring me up as a sister, but again, her mother would not hear of it. I think she was very ashamed. No-one else but her parents knew about her pregnancy even though her mother’s sister was expecting at the same time. Sandra was made to sit behind the kitchen table with a big cardigan on to hide the bump.

Eventually the time came to go to the mother and baby home in Felixstowe. Sandra went into labour about four weeks after being there and gave birth to me on 4th July – American Independence Day. She was expected to look after me for another six weeks at the home. My heart breaks when I think of her having to put me in a cot and just walk away from me knowing she would never see me again. Cameras weren’t allowed in the home but her mum smuggled one in to take pictures of me with her.

I was adopted by a lovely couple who already had two boys and another adopted girl came after me.

I always knew I was adopted, although I can’t remember actually being told. All I knew was that I was ‘special’ because I had been chosen. I wasn’t embarrassed by this, I thought it was exciting and different. I did ask my mother about my birth parents but always got ‘Oh, I’m too busy at the moment’. Eventually I gave up asking. However, I didn’t give up on my dream of finding my birth mother and when I was 19 and my parents were on holiday I went through their wardrobe and to my surprise there was the folder containing all my birth information. I remember sitting on my bed crying as I read about my birth mother being only 17 when she gave birth to me. The information said ‘father unknown’ but they had given me details about him such as ‘sandy hair, blue eyes, American Air Force’.

My original birth certificate was in the folder with an address. I tried to find a number using the surname Lawrence and the address listed but no luck. I didn’t know which way to turn, so phoned the Samaritans. The gentleman was lovely but said he couldn’t help because it was not a family member I was trying to trace (adoption was viewed as your new and only family). He did say, however, that my next step may be to find my birth mothers’ marriage certificate as the address could well be different. He strongly suggested that I start my search from about 3 years after my birth as my mother would have been highly traumatized and unlikely to have married quickly.

The next day I went to St Catherines’ House in London. I soon realized that I was looking for a needle in a haystack – each year had four huge books to look through. The only information I had was the surname LAWRENCE and my mothers name SANDRA. I also knew that she lived in the WISBECH area. Anyway, I’m not one to be beaten so I started my search. I began the year I was born as I felt I might miss something if I cut 3 years out.

I was there from early Wednesday morning till middle afternoon and had got through loads of records. I picked up the Marriage Records for 1963 and started looking through them… suddenly my gaze caught the surname LAWRENCE and DAVIS and the area NORWICH. It could have been anyone but I was tired and convinced I was never going to find her. It cost £15 to order the marriage certificate so I went up to the desk and they said it would be ready Friday.

Friday morning I traveled back to London, a bit excited although fairly convinced I would be spending the whole day looking through books again. I went straight up to the desk and asked for the marriage certificate I had ordered. I remember opening it with shaky hands to find that I had hit jackpot! The LAWRENCE was in fact my birth mother, Sandra. My heart in my mouth, I realized that the DAVIS was Edward, and he was in the American Air Force!!!! I stood and cried imagining that this man was in fact my father who had finally married my mum and they had been unable to get me back.

I got home to an empty house thankfully and sat to gather my thoughts. The address on the certificate was different, so I plucked up my courage and rang directory enquiries.

"Could I have a number for LAWRENCE at ........Road, Wishbech?" I asked. Please, oh please let there be a number! They came back and said "Yes, here is your number…." More tears!

I sat staring at the phone trying to gather my thoughts and taking a deep breath picked it up and dialed…

I knew I may well be speaking to my Grandmother/father because I presumed my birth mother was living with her husband in America.

The phone call went like this:

"Hello?"

"Hello, um, could I speak to Mrs Lawrence?", I said

"Hang on, I’ll just get her"

Oh my goodness… my grandmother was really there. I put the phone down!

Gathering myself together and rang again…

"Hello?"

"Oh, hello. I just rang to speak to Mrs Lawrence and got cut off"

"Oh, I’m Mrs Lawrence"

"Hello, I wonder if you can help me. My name is Amanda and I’m an old school friend of Sandra’s and I know she married an American and went to the States. I would love to contact her"

"Oh, I’ll go and get her, she answered the phone to you when you got cut off"

I stared at the phone in shock and quickly ‘cut myself off’ again. I couldn’t believe in 3 days of searching I had found my birth mother. I didn’t know what to do next, I had planned writing to her because I was afraid of rejection. Now I had to make a decision. In the end I asked a trusted older friend, Lorraine to ring her the next day and explain that I was looking for her.

The following night we were out at a friend's house. Lorraine had been trying the number all day but no answer. Suddenly at 9pm the phone rang. My friend called out "Tracey, it’s for you" and I ran to answer it. Lorraine was on the other end and I could hear the smile in her voice: "Tracey, she is over the moon and can’t believe you have found her. She wants you to ring straight away" I sat on the floor of the bedroom where the phone was and frantically called for my then boyfriend. After calming down I rang the number – I remember my heart beating and how nervous I was. A very young sounding woman answered the phone and I asked "Is that Sandra? It's Tracey". I cried, she cried and it took some time to calm down enough to talk.

It turned out that she had gone to America in 1963 with Ed and lived in Boston. She was over for six weeks visiting her parents and was due back home on the Monday. The next day was her last day in England. She also had her daughter (14) and son (17) with her.

We met at Kings Cross - Platform One at 2 o’clock. We both said we would be wearing yellow. I felt like I was going in for a major operation that Sunday morning as my boyfriend and I traveled to the station. I went to the loo, watching every woman, thinking is it her?? Finally I stood below Platform 1 and a woman in a RED dress walked in front of me and said "Are you Tracey?" I wish I’d had a video then because we just hugged and hugged for ages. She was so warm and loving towards me and none of us could hold back the tears.

We went across the road and had a well deserved drink! She said when her mother had taken the phone call she couldn’t remember anyone in school called ‘Amanda’ and didn’t understand who it could have been. They spent all day Saturday pondering this. When I finally spoke to her Saturday night she put the phone down on me and went into the front room. Her mother asked who it was and she said, still in shock, "Tracey"

"Who?" she asked.

"Tracey" Sandra repeated. Mother still looked confused.

"TRACEY, you daft bugger!! I told you we should have kept her!". This was from her dad, bless him.

Sandra told me all about my father and explained that Ed was not my father but another Airman she had met afterwards. He knew all about me and was fully sympathetic to finding me. In fact, he had hired private detectives for Sandra to see if they could unearth anything. We spent a very emotional afternoon and finally said our goodbyes. I have a good relationship with Sandra and her family and visit the US frequently.

As for my father… armed with his full name and the area where he came from I sat on the info for years. When I had my first child I remember looking at her in her daddy’s arms and feeling very sad that my father wasn’t allowed to even see me. It transpired later that he had in fact gone to Sandra’s house and asked to be allowed to go to the mother and baby home to see me. Sandra’s mother refused. However, he did write a letter which ended '.....tell Tracey her daddy loves her very much’. Still makes me cry although the letter was never kept.

Just after my first baby was born in April 1991 I again picked up the phone (America this time) and asked for phone numbers for LARK in KENTUCKY. I was lucky again and got 3 – Alice Lark, Stephen Lark and ? Lark. I knew Alice was Charles’ wife and I didn’t want to upset anyone, so I chose the Stephen Lark number (the phone was answered by a woman)

"Hello" i SAID, "Um, this is a bit of a long shot but I’m looking for a Charles Lark who was stationed in England in 1960".

Long silence

"I’m sorry mam, but Charles died a month ago"

At this point I had no idea that this was the right Charles…But I cried and so did she.

"May I ask who this is?"

"I think I may be his daughter"

Again, I had hit jackpot. It was the right man and he had been married to Alice. The phone number I had rung belonged to my youngest brother, Stephen, and I was talking to his wife. I did eventually get a phone call from Stephen, at 4am one morning… although I had asked his wife not to tell anyone I had phoned!

I met Alice and two of my brothers in Kentucky a short while after.

I would give anything to have not hesitated to find my father.

I left it too late.

Tracey Newton

Proud daughter of Sandra Lawrence & Charles Lark.

Very proud adopted daughter of Beryl and Bernard Newton.