I was adopted in 1951 in what was called the Adoptions Era of Secret and Lies. You were not told you were adopted and it was never talked about with family and friends. But of course everyone knew. My issue or what I call my stigma of adoption is your not like the other kids. I was different because I was adopted. I wasn't angry, I loved my parents and my life. I just did not want to be different. So, I buried the fact, suppressed it so deep I did not tell my wife until I was 42 years old. Then I began my search. A journey filled with high expectations and the harsh reality of finding the people who gave you up. I write this hoping I can help the parents who adopt and the children who are adopted deal with the search and whatever comes of that experience. The story is set on the streets of Newark and Jersey City. It details my growing up in a great neighborhood in Newark, NJ.Detailing the rich traditions of Italian-Americans who left their countries and lived full and rich lives in America and contributed to the growth of this country. The book in a way is a dedication to their spirit and how it was instilled in me.
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