All I had was this little scrap of paper.
Forty years later, I have found my biological father’s family. After hiring a private investigator, a genealogist and signing up on Ancestry.com the wait is over. Although my mother said I was conceived by immaculate conception, there was indeed a father. His name was Ralph Leonard Baggett. Unfortunately, I will not have the opportunity to meet him since he has passed (1994). The irony is that when I found out that I had a different father in 1984 (at 14) I made every effort to find him then. All I had was a name and a potential address (somewhere in Los Angeles). I went immediately to the Whittier Public Library and scanned every phone book I could get my hands on, the closer to the 1970s the better. I wrote down every R. Baggett phone number I could find. Next, were the phone calls. I left messages. I spoke to a few people (Robin, Rick, Robert, Rachel etc.), but no Ralph’s.
A few years later, once computers were available, I did another desperate search for Ralph. I paid for 24 hours subscriptions to “People Finder” and spent hours at a time trying to search any combination of Ralph Baggett. Oh yeah, I wasn’t sure of the spelling. Remember, this was translated to me through my mother, who conveniently say, “ I don remember.” So, there I was copying down every R. Baggett or variation of that name from California to Florida. I did this periodically and started all over again, making calls, collecting information and trying to make a match. No luck, I even wrote to Dr. Phil in 2008.
Dear Dr. Phil, January 2, 2008
I am hoping to find my father, whom I have never met. My mother told me that he knew she was pregnant, but he decided to reunite with his wife. It is difficult to know what really transpired, which is part of my curiosity. She was 43 years old when she gave birth to me. I was the last of the five children and the only girl. Out of respect for my brothers and their privacy, I will speak only for myself.
I grew up in poverty and suffered many injustices as a child and adolescent. Today, my life is far from what it was. My desire to find my father, aside from the million questions I have for him, is to see what he looks like, what he sounds like and to see who he is. My mother would not give me much information. She was silenced by shame and conveniently said, “I don’t remember” to my very basic questions.
My mother was a 5’ tall little Mexican woman who spoke with a broken accent. I have bright red hair, pale white skin and am covered in freckles. It is assumed by most that I am Irish. I have defended my Mexican ethnicity tooth and nail as if I were fighting my mother’s shame. It was as if I acknowledged that I am part Caucasian I betrayed my mother and her “secret.” Race has always been a complicated subject for me.
These questions have been seared in my head since I was a child.
- Did you know I was born?
- Did you have any desire to know me, see me?
- How did you meet my mom?
- Did you know she was a single mother with four boys?
- Did you ever tell anyone about me?
I have tried on my own to find him. I have called every Ralph Baggett I could find the number for using telephone books and public records online. I have even knocked on the door of a Ralph Baggett but was told he had passed away. I have absolutely no idea if he is alive, where he lives or anything about him except that he worked for United Airlines. In the late 80’s (my first attempt to find him) I called United Airlines, but they did not have employee records from the 1970’s. I was born in March of 1970, so he worked there minimally in 1969. I was also told that he was married and had a daughter. So, potentially I have a sibling out there somewhere.
Dr. Phil if you are unable to find him, I would love to meet any of his family members. I just want to know who he was good, bad or ugly.
Sincerely,
Angelica Hernandez, M. A.
So, I eventually found him. It turns out that the door I knocked on was his widowed wife’s home. I found his granddaughter on Ancestry.com in 2010. I had posted this very photograph (1941 Senior photo. Belmont High School, CA.) of him on my family tree. After confirming it was the same Ralph Baggett we spoke on the phone. She had the same enthusiasm about meeting as I did. The one detail that sealed the deal for me was when she told me that on her grandfather’s (Ralph) deathbed he kept asking to see, “The girl,” to which his family responded, “which girl?” I think that girl was ME.
