Family Reunited

5thesundaytimes.ie 13.01.13

‘I just sat downand cried’

Bridget Dineen was 18 in 1983 when shebecame pregnant with her daughterKatherine. “Back then, you only had twooptions,” she says. “Have a ‘shotgun wedding’or give your baby up for adoption.” Jimmy,her then boyfriend and now husband, was19 and the two had been dating a year.“Jimmy suggested we get married but I

just thought we were too young and we hadnothing that we could give a child,” she says.The couple, from Skibbereen, Co Cork,emigrated to London that May and their babywas born in September. Bridget spent fivedays in the hospital with her beforeKatherine’s adoptive parents collected her.The Dineens married three years later, in1986, and went on to have five more children.The family moved back to Ireland in 1998

but the pair never forgot Katherine. Whentheir other children became teenagers, theydecided it was time to tell them they had asister. “It was like a book they couldn’t finish.The children would spend hours on the internetsearching for her. But we never found her.”Then, in April 2011, Bridget set up her own

Facebook page to keep in touch with John,her son, who was moving to Australia. “Ijoined Facebook on a Sunday night and onTuesday I had a private message from aRoss Robinson in England wondering if I wasmarried to a Jimmy Dineen. He said hethought his father went to school withJimmy. I emailed saying I was Jimmy’s wifeand an hour later I got another messagesaying Ross was Katherine’s boyfriend andthat she just wanted to get to know me. I justsat and cried, tears streaming down my face.It took me a day to reply.”In June, Bridget and Jimmy travelled to

England to meet Katherine for the first timein more than 27 years. “I was so nervous, butshe ran to us with her arms outstretched.”At Christmas, Katherine visited the family.

“It was the first time Jimmy and I and oursix children were allunder the one roof,”says Bridget.

DECLANDOHERTY; FRAN VEALE

Above, Byrne with her biologicalmother and sister, and, right, withan album showing photos of her latebrother, her sister and herself

Ab B ith he biol ical

‘I ENCOURAGE ALL ADOPTEES NOTTO GIVE UP HOPE— IT’S A

ROLLERCOASTER OF EMOTIONS BUTIT’S WORTH EVERY TEAR SHED’

Her birth mother, however, alwaysbattled with her secret. In December2010 she was admitted to hospital withdepression. At this point, a relativewhowas one of the fewwho knewof Byrne’sexistence decided it might be a goodidea to informMary’s husband. “Hewasrelieved to know the truth. I also metmy [half] brother and he was great,despite the fact that itmust have been ashock,” says Byrne.

In November 2001, Byrne soughtmore records from Cork through theFreedom of Information Act. One of thedocuments in the file that came back toher sparked her curiosity.

“It didn’t make sense because itwasn’t my date of birth — it was

1966,” she says. Byrne made furtherinquiries and discovered that she hadtwo other siblings.

“A member of staff at the home saidthey were recorded as my full siblings,that we had the same father. Howevershe said my brother, John, who wasborn in November 1962, was deceased.He was killed in America just two yearspreviously. She also told me I have asister, Ena Ronayne, who now lives inDublin and she was born in 1966.

“I just thought how could this havebeen . . . Not only didmynaturalmothernot tell me, but all the social workers,nuns, nobody toldme I had a sister andbrother. The staff member then asked,‘How did you find your mother?’ And I

said, ‘Well, it wasn’t easy.’ And she said,‘Your sister, Ena, has been trying to findyourmother for the past 26 years.’ ”

Byrne and Ronayne met for the firsttime in Co Monaghan in March of thisyear. “The two of us couldn’t shut up fortalking — we’re very alike in personal-ity. It’s like we’ve known each other foryears. Our mother is now 73 and there’sbeen great improvement in her sinceEna came into our lives.

“Knowing both of them has made ahuge difference tomy sense of identity. Iwould encourage all adoptees wishingto trace their familymembersnot to giveuphope—it’sa rollercoasterofemotions,but it’s worth every tear shed.”

Lynott, meanwhile, says that shedoesn’t think she would have got incontact with her children if they hadn’tfoundher. “Asmuchasmyheartwantedto know, I could not intrude on thepeople who had devoted their lives tothem,” she says.

She is glad they both located her: “It’sgreat having my son and daughter andtheir families back inmy life.”

Left, Lynott, with rockstar son Phil, put her other two children up foradoption in Britain, where it is easier for the adopted to trace birth parents

the National Adoption Contact Prefer-ence Register, which is designed toassist adopted people and their naturalfamilies wishing to make contact. Thesuccess rate so far has been low. Thereare 7,081 adopted people on the registerwith 3,141 natural parents or relatives,yet to date only 600matches have beenachieved— a success rate of about 5 %.

Despite the odds against findingtheir birth parents, some childrenadopted in Ireland succeed. Edel Byrne,now 42 and living in Tyrone, grewup inClonmel, Co Tipperary, and was toldfrom a very young age that she wasadopted. Byrne, for personal reasons,doesnotwant to revealhermother’s fullname or details of her background, butis happy to talk about finding her.

“I had a great upbringing but I wasalways longing to find out who I reallywas,” she says. “My adoptive parents

toldme Iwas born in Corkin December 1969 and was

adopted from the Sacred Heartmother and baby home when I was

10 days old.When I turned 18, I tried toget some information regarding mybirth but was unsuccessful. I moved toLondon to study nursing but kepttrying, and eventually I was told mymother’s name and the area she camefrom in Offaly.”

In the 1980s Byrnemanaged to learnher natural mother’s date of birth andsubsequently found Mary, who was bynowmarriedwith one son and living inCo Kilkenny. “When I contacted herinitially, she said shewasn’t interested.Her son was a teenager at the time andshe was afraid of how he might react. Iwasn’t upset by her response. I justaccepted it and got onwithmy life.”

In 1997, when she was gettingmarried, Byrne received a telegramwishing her all the best from “Mary inKilkenny”. That was the start of theirrelationshipand the twobeganmeetingin secret every couple of months.

Katherine,bottom left,with therest of theDineenchildren

life4

For Philomena Lynott,mother of the late rocklegend Phil, always Philipto her, this Christmas wasextra special. She was ableto share itwith the son anddaughter she kept secretformore than 50 years.

Now 82, Lynott revealed the existenceofherdaughter,Philomena,andson,Les-lie, now both in their sixties, for the firsttime in a media interview in 2010. Nei-ther evermet Phil, who died in 1986, andthoughbothcontactedtheirbirthmothermany years ago, she told hardly anyoneabout them—not evenher ownmother.

“Mychildren—Philip, Jeanette [laternamed Philomena] and Leslie [bornJames] — have different fathers. I wentout with each of the three men. Eventhough I gave Jeanette and Leslie up foradoption, I never forgot them.”

Phil Lynott, the late Thin Lizzy front-man,was born inAugust 1949, at a timewhen it was difficult for an 18-year-oldsingle mother to cope with anunplanned pregnancy. Lynott had metPhil’s father — Cecil Parris, from Guy-ana—inBirmingham,havingmoved toEngland in 1948. The relationshipdidn’tlast long once Parris took up a job inLondon and started living there.

When Philip was born, Lynott livedin a home for unmarried mothers inBirmingham, before moving into digs.While she was trying to manage, shemet another man and had anotherchild, Philomena, in March 1951. Shethen had Leslie with a different man,15months later.

Lynott’s mother, Sarah, looked afterPhilip in Crumlin, Dublin. She didn’tknow about Philomena and Leslie, whowere given up for adoption.

“When I had Jeanette, my motherwas asking if I was coming home forChristmas and I was worried aboutwhat I would do,” says Lynott. “A wel-fare nun who used to visit me said sheknew of a lovely couple in Blackpool.They were schoolteachers and theywouldmind her.

“WhenIcameback [afterChristmas],the nun showed me photographs ofJeanette in a beautiful house and Ithought itwould be better for her to livethere than with me. I gave her up foradoption, and I did the same thingagainwhen I got in trouble for the thirdtime, 15months later.”

“I tried tohold on tomychildren, butit was so difficult. I was hiding a hugesecret from my family. I was livingin slums and trying to hold downthree jobs.”

Over the years, Lynott worried about

her children, and then one day in the1980s thephone rang. “Iwas livingwithPhilip at the time and my mother wasstill alive. A girl on the other end said,‘My name is Jeanette and I’m wonder-ing . . .’, and straight away I said, ‘I’myourmother.’ We both started crying.

“We met in secret for a long timeafter that, as she didn’t want heradoptive parents to know and I didn’twant my mother, who was elderly, tofind out.”

As both Philomena and Leslie wereborn in Britain it was relatively simplefor them to track down theirmother. Inthe 1990s Leslie heard her being inter-viewed on the radio and realised thather name matched the name on hisadoption papers.

“We had our first meeting in theHowthLodgeHotel inDublin.Whenhecame through the door, I looked at him

andhe looked atme andwebroke downcrying,” says Lynott.

While adopted children born in Brit-ain can get access to a range of personalfiles, it canbe difficult for those adoptedin Ireland to track down their naturalparents. Since adoption legislation wasfirst introduced here back in 1952,approximately 45,000 people have beenadopted.Under Irish law,however, theyhave no automatic legal right to theirbirth certificate, medical history orinformation about their identity.

According to the Susan Lohan,co-founder of the Adoption Rights Alli-ance, the situation is a breach of basichuman rights. “An open records policyhas been in operation in Britain since1975, but most people don’t realise thatadopted people in Ireland are deniedtheir own birth certificate.”

In 2005, the Adoption Board set up

LIFE STORIES

Childrenadopted in this countryhaveno right to information tohelp themtrace their natural parentsbut someare luckyenough to see their perseverance rewarded,writesSineadO’Donnell

FAMILY REUNITED

Lynott was tracedby her son, Leslie,and daughter,Philomena