The Power of Facebook

I joined Facebook only a short time ago. Since then, I've connected not only with close family and current friends, but also with distant family, old friends, and former colleagues. It's a great way to catch up with the people from your past, and keep up with the people in your present. But it can also be much more than that, as I discovered last week. I have a story to tell you about the power of Facebook, one that is heartbreaking and unforgettable.

Let me give you some background (I'll change all names to protect the privacy of the involved parties).

In the spring of 1977, I met a boy named Tom Doe. He pursued me relentlessly and eventually swept me up into his world. His father had died before we'd met, and his mother, Jane, had remarried. When I met Jane, I loved her within the space of a breath. She was elegant, kind, and generous. Her new husband was Ralph Smith, a Canadian. They had a newborn daughter, Sarah. Tom had a hard time with Ralph having taken his father's place. Of his two younger brothers, Dick didn't want anything to do with Ralph, but Harry was so young that he adapted.

During the next two years, I watched Jane's life, and the lives of her children, tailspin out of control. Ralph drank and gambled Jane into debt. After she lost the house that her first husband had bought for her, she moved with her children into a rented house, then into a rented apartment, then into a welfare apartment. During this time, I began to lose touch with them because I was away at college.

In the fall of 1984, my mother went to visit Jane. Harry, the youngest son, was home alone with little Sarah. He told my mother that his stepfather, Ralph, had been killed in a car accident and his mother was in the hospital dying of leukemia. I went to the hospital right away, and after visiting with Jane, sat with Tom in an ICU waiting room. Soon after, Jane died. I lost touch again after I left town to return to my future husband, but for the next decade, I thought of Sarah from time to time, assuming that she was safe with Tom, as he'd adored this little sister of his.

Fast forward more than 25 years.

Last week, I was on Facebook when I came across a Sarah Smith. I wondered, "Could this be Mrs. Doe's little girl?" So I sent Sarah a message through Facebook. A short time later, she wrote back. Here are excerpts of our exchanges (with the names changed and some info deleted for privacy of the involved parties):

Madeline:

I knew a Jane Doe Smith who had a daughter named Sarah Smith. Are you that daughter?

Sarah:

Yes I am..my mother passed away when i was 7....who are u?

Madeline:

Hi, Sarah-

In 1977, I met your brother, Tom, at a party (we were teenagers). Tom, my best friend (Margaret), and I became fast friends. Looking back, I suppose Tom wanted me to be his girlfriend, but I wanted to be your mother's daughter. After graduating from high school on Long Island, I went away to college where Tom was already a student. I haven't seen him for more than 25 years, not since the night I went to visit your mother in the hospital on Long Island. Her death devastated me. It would have been too hard to ever see Tom again.

Sarah:

O....Wow...well Tom lives here i havent spoke to him since i was 12.. he took me in after my mom passed and didnt want me i guess i havent spoke to any of my faimly so i have NONE..Do u know any names that my mom was friends with or anything? I dont know nothing bout my mom and dad...been tryin to figure it out piece by piece... I just went to visit her during the summer in bronx it still hard to this day I think its more harder now then before i was young and didnt know what was goin on just moved all around so fast...Now i just think bout What ifs?....well u may keep in touch if you like..

Madeline:

I knew both your parents. I don't understand. Who took care of you from the age of 12 on? I'd always thought that you were safe with Tom. It never occurred to me that he wouldn't want you, as he adored you. I can remember him walking the floors with you when you were an infant. If he came to a point where he hadn't been able to take care of you, he should have brought you to my mother. She never turned anyone away from her home. I find this very disturbing, to say the least.

P.S. What can I tell you about your parents?

Sarah:

My friends parents took me in and took care of me....Tom got married to this woman apparently depised me she had there first child and i was out the door...This is how i looked at this point Im very bitter bout the whole situation honestly..growing up knowing the unknown bout ur own life and have NOBODY to call your very own.. Do u know if my mom had any sisters good friends brothers Mother father? i have no clue...

Madeline:

Tell me first about your other half-brothers, Dick and Harry. What happened to them?

Sarah:

Dick is in georgia and Harry is still in Long Island...i spoke to my brother Harry 5 years ago last he never kept in touch. Dick is messing with a girl My age I still talk to his sons mother she keeps me updating me on how Dick is doin. but Dick dont want me in his life. it seems like when my mom passed they all went there seperate ways and i always thought that we needed to stay together as a faimly becuase we are all we got....

Madeline:

What should I tell you? I have so much in my mind, but I don't know if it's all correct. Your mother, Jane, was adopted by an Italian couple in New York City. I believe she was their only child. They adored her. She studied at Juilliard School of Music in New York and became an accomplished concert pianist. She was a bit of a debutante as her parents were comfortable.

Somehow, she met her first husband, Mr. Doe. He was a musician as well. So perhaps they met through their music. By all accounts, he adored her. He bought her a beautiful home on Long Island. Together, they had three sons. The Doe family was very good to them. Then Mr. Doe died from leukemia at an early age. I met Tom shortly after this. He was devastated by the loss, but his loss was only at a beginning.

Your mother had gone from her adoring father's home to her adoring husband's home. When Mr. Doe died, she was lost--utterly and absolutely lost. Some neighbor couple (her name was Mary, but I can't remember his) introduced her to your father, Ralph Smith. Ralph was a French Canadian (we spoke French together on occasion) with a long and jaded past. He drank heavily and gambled even heavier. If I remember correctly, he had a daughter in Canada of about 14 when you were born. So, you might have a half-sister in Canada.

Once your mother married Ralph, everything went into a tailspin. Tom and Dick had great difficulty with Ralph, another man, moving into their father's home...and bed. You were the living proof of that betrayal of their father. Ralph drank and gambled them into great debt. Your mother lost the house, and then moved into a rented house. I don't remember Dick at this house ever. I think he had moved in with his Doe grandparents. So, you see, it was all falling apart long before your mother's death.

I loved to go and see your mother at the rented house. She was the finest cook in all the world. She told me that no one could eat as much lasagna as me. But I ate that much only because she'd made it. You were so little in those days, perhaps 3 or so. Your mother, poor thing, was working in a deli supermarket. She had no car and so, she had to walk all the way there and back. One day, on a slicer, she cut her precious pianist's fingers. Even at 18 or 19, I knew she'd come from so much to end up with so little.

Soon, your mother could no longer afford the rented house. So they moved into a rented apartment in a house nearby. This may have been around 1982. Ralph was still in the picture, as far as I remember. Of course, the financial situation was grimmer by the day. I think they had to move from that house to another, but I'd have to ask my mother. I was away from Long Island for 1983, but returned in June of 1984 to stay until late October.

One night (perhaps in October, 1984), my mother went to Dunkin' Donuts (for Harry and you) and then on to see your mother for a cup of coffee. Your mother always had a fresh pot of coffee brewing up. When my mother returned, she was as white as a ghost. She told me that your father had been killed in a car accident, your mother was in the hospital dying of leukemia, Tom was at the hospital with her, and Harry and you were sad sights with dirty hair and pale faces.

I went over to see her at the hospital right away. She was in so much pain, but relieved because I suppose, seeing me with Tom for the first time in a while, she thought we might be together always. I was already engaged to my husband, and didn't have the heart to tell her. Oh, I can't tell you how hard it is for me to remember her, even now after more than a quarter of a century! If I close my eyes, I can see and hear her in my mind. She was so very gentle and kind.

And yes, what if she'd lived? How might life have been different?

Sarah:

By any chance do you have any pictures of my mother what so ever I have NONE and ive been trying to get atleast ONE picture of her so i can show my kids and have one for myself...I know you probally dont have it but its worth a shot to ask right?.. Thank You so much for letting me know how much you know of my mother OMG it really touched my heart big time it just feels like it big hole was filled. Im so happy you were able to be in my mothers life she was everything to me.. All i can remember is grabbing on her leg when she would go to bingo with my father. Thank you so much!!!!!

Madeline:

I will have to get out an old box of photos and look through it (those were the days before digital when we used something called film). I know I have many with Tom, but I don't know if I have any with your mother.

I remember having seen a photo album of professional photos of your mother when she was in her debutante years (wearing beautiful late 1950s or early 1960s dresses, upswept hairdo, and the sort). I wonder if Tom has that photo album.

P.S. You look like her, except that she was a blond.

Sarah:

Hi again!! By any chance do u know if you have a name of my fathers other daugther.. I really want to try and find her...I know Ive been being a pain in the butt asking all these questions but your the only one thats giving me answers i should of known along time ago..

Thank You again for all you have given me.

Madeline:

Good morning,

I'm very sorry to tell you that either I don't remember her name or I never heard her name. During the summer of 1978 or 1979, I didn't see Tom or Margaret (our common friend). I heard this story from Margaret after the summer: Ralph had a daughter who had come down from Canada for a visit. Tom had made some kind of moves on her (Margaret didn't tell me what). Ralph and Tom got into some sort of confrontation. Tom showed up at Margaret's mother's home with an injury and stayed until either Ralph cooled down or until he went back to college (I don't know which).

I haven't seen Margaret since 1982, but let me tell you about her so that you'll have the information should you want to try and find her. Margaret was born Margaret Jones on Long Island, went to school with me at the Academy, and married James Black on Long Island in 1980. I think Margaret would remember you because Tom, she and I babysat for you late 1977 and early 1978. She might remember Ralph's daughter's name because she heard the story firsthand from Tom. If I ever find Margaret, I'll ask her. Of course, Tom should remember the name.

Madeline:

Take a look at the second name that comes up on this page:

[website link]

I think this might be Margaret Jones Black.

Madeline:

Yes, I have have found her.

Margaret Black
[address]
[phone number]

Consider calling or writing.

She is a very warm person. Just remind her that you are Tom Doe's baby sister and the daughter of Mrs. Doe (that's how we all knew her in those days) and Ralph Smith. She was more my friend than Tom's. I think if she remembers the name of Ralph's other daughter from that summer so long ago, she'll tell you.

P.S. If you do call or write, send her my love.

Madeline:

Hi, again-

Take a look at this:

[website link]

Your father is entry number 154.

You can sign up for a free 14-day day trial at ancestry.com. Track your father, starting with the assumption that he was born in Quebec, Canada in 1945 and died in New York in 1984.

I have a sneaking suspicion that if you see this through, you might find some relatives in Quebec.

Good luck!

***

We've exchanged these words so far, which has been hard enough for us. I've been traveling back into the pain of my past to give her a memory of her mother for the future. When she is ready, I have a particularly bittersweet memory to share with her, one I thought of the other day, one I buried long ago with her mother.

What words can best describe this experience?

I found Mrs. Doe's beloved daughter, and Sarah found a memory of her beloved mother, on Facebook.

Isn't Facebook amazing?