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Posted on April 4th, 2011 by David R. Ford
In my last post, I mentioned that I’d known for most of my life that I had an older brother out there. I had been told that he was seven years old when I was given up for adoption and, at least as far as I knew, was being raised by my birth parents.
I had made half-hearted attempts to find out about my birth family over the years, but only got serious about it after a friend told my wife that she’d seen someone who “looked like my twin, only older,” riding on the DC subway system one morning. By then I was a partner in a law firm in downtown Washington. The idea that my brother might be walking down the sidewalk in front of my office building shook me out of my hesitation to find him.
I am sure other adoptees out there have great stories about what triggered them to start the search for their birth families.