Author Archives: Nelson de Witt

About Nelson de Witt

Nelson/Roberto – The son of Ana Milagro he was separated from the family shortly before his first birthday. He grew up in the Boston area with his adoptive parents and younger bother. He now works to share his family’s story and is making a documentary about life 30 years after the war. http://www.nelsondewitt.com

We found your family – by Nelson/Roberto

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Its the last day of camp august 1997. I think its 6 or 7 in the morning. I’ve been up all night. Most of it was spent in 7A. As I’m walking back to my tent I stop by in the bathroom and run into Waldyka. Hes been up all night as well. The grin of his face lets me know he knows where I have been all night. We hang out and cause some trouble. The bugle goes off and now more people are up. Everyone’s up and hanging out in front of 7B. There is a crowd of people so I climb up into Lizzy’s bed on the top bunk because there is no where else to sit. I’m so tired that with in minuets I’m a sleep. But then the second bugle goes off and its time for flag poll.

Now my parents are here and its time to say goodbye. What an amazing summer, I can’t believe its over. As I am saying goodbye I notice Yoli is crying which I think is weird. She doesn’t strike me as the type to cry. I’m so tired all I can think about is going home and sleeping. I hand Josh the envelope my parents brought for him and thank him for the best summer I ever had at camp. We pile into the car and drive off.

In the car ride my parents tell me and my brother that they need to have a serious talk with us after dinner. The though of them getting a divorce flashes through my mind for a second, but that doesn’t make any sense and I quickly push it away. It seams weird they have never done this before but honestly I’m too tired to think about it. We get home and I go right to bed. 5 hours later I wake to my mother telling me its time for dinner. Half a sleep I stumble down the stairs of our house in New Hampshire. We eat dinner. I’m still half a sleep and don’t say much.

As we are clearing our plates my mom says again “Don’t go anywhere we need to talk.” I’m thinking to my self “yea I know I’m not going anywhere.” My brother and I site down again. Now my parents are sitting next to me, one on either side. I’m really stumped whats going on?

My father has a FedEx package on the table. From it he pulls out a magazine or a newsletter. On the cover is a man. He points to the picture and says to me “This is Dr. so and so and he works with children in Honduras.” It was at that point that I knew I found my family. I don’t know how I knew but I did. My father would go on to explain that he works for an organization in El Salvador that helps find lost children. I was hardly listening, I just knew what was coming next and it took everything I had not to completely break down into tears. I had been waiting for this for so long. Then he finally says it “…they believe they have found your birth family”

He goes on to say that I have a father in panama a step mother an older sister and brother. No mention of my mother yet. It turns out that I was born in El Salvador not Honduras. Both my parents fought in the civil war in El Salvador as guerillas As part of the war my mother went with me to Honduras to kid nap a business man. The government found out about it and stormed the house. They think my mother was the one who opened the door and was killed on site.

I feel numb. I’m not sure what to make of this. In all honesty I never imagined having an brother and sister and so many family members. As for my father…well I guess I never really thought about him. The only person I really wanted to see was my mother.

After losing her daughter and grandson my grandmother, who lives in Costa Rica, she went back to El Salvador in 1993 to try out what happened to them. With a little luck she found an organization to help her. They have sent the past 4 years looking for me and found our number on the Internet…how cool. They are the ones who provided the packet with the newsletter.

There are pictures too. My parents say they have been looking at the photos and think that my brother and I look a lot alike. I glance at the picture and I don’t see the resemblance. Its a group picture and my brother is in the back so its hard to tell. There are also letters written to the lost baby “Roberto.” That’s me. Robert…I don’t know if I like that name but my mothers name is Escobar and I think that’s a cool name. Its turns out my birthday is may 22nd so I’m really 16. My august birthday is in a few days but this kind of changes things.

My father says they want to do a blood test to see if we are actually related. He asks me if I would be willing to do it. The question surprises me. Of course I do, but truthfully I don’t need a blood test, I already know its them.

Meeting for the first time – by Nelson/Roberto

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I met my birth family for the first time when I was 16 during the Christmas of 1997. It was an incredible experience. One that I will never forget. Looking back on it now, it’s all a blur of memories. Filled with excitement, confusion, love and happiness. When I found them I found my self.

The first thing I remember is sitting on the plane listening to music. I’m always listening to music, especially on long trips. I don’t remember what I was listening to but I think I had really crappy head phones. It always bugs me when I don’t have a decent pair of head phones and for some reason this sticks out in my mind. Even though I had been to a few different countries before I had never been to Central America and I really had no idea what to expect.

We arrived late at night and as we walked thought the airport I remember going down a long flight of steps on our way to customs. I was still listening to music as we waited to pick up our bags. As we stood there a woman approached me and started to ask me in Spanish some questions. She had a piece of paper in her hand and I believe she wanted me to take a survey. Not knowing any Spanish I just stood there and ignored her. I felt bad because I’m sure I came off as being rude but I had no idea what was going on and all I could think about were the people waiting outside.

We finally cleared customs and head out of the airport. There were people everywhere and most of them were cab drives asking if we wanted a taxi. We just kept saying no and moving forward. Then there was a clearing and that’s when I saw them for the first time. In front of me stood an older version of myself and by his side was a little girl of 6 years. Immediately they hugged me, my little sister getting stuck in between me and my father. For a moment I tried to let her out but it was no use, they wouldn’t let go. My father had been waiting 16 years to see me and it felt like he would never let me go ever again.

After that its all a blur of meeting my older brother, older sister, grandmother, stepmother, cousins, aunts and uncles. There must have been 30 people at at the airport waiting to meet us. I have no idea how long we were outside of the airport hugging, crying and trying to communicate with each other. We have a picture from that night. Its blurry and you can’t really see anything. All you can make out are lights streaking across the photo. My mother has said from time to time that this picture describes the emotion of that night and I think she is right. It was just one big blur.

The next thing I remember is piling into a car with my little sister close behind. She sat next to me never letting go. My mother snapped a picture of the two of us. Later we would make a mouse pad from this picture and to this day that mouse pad sits on my desk. As we drove off I remember feeling completely lost, everything looked so different and I had no idea where I was. Even so I felt at home and safe. I looked down at my sister. Here was this little girl who I had never met but I meant the world to her. It was a strange feeling and one that I would feel again and again as I got to know my family.

[Update]
Video – TV Interview
Part 1: The adoption, a leap of faith and a miracle reunion.
Post – Part 2: The Back Story

Introduction

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“Losing ones family obliges us to find our family. Not always the family that is our blood but the family that can become our blood”
Sean Connery – Finding Forester

The other day I saw the movie Freedom Writes. Its a story inspired by the real lives of long beach teenagers during the early 90’s. The film was really good and it made me think about my own family and our story. In the movie the students kept diaries so that their could write about their life experiences. This made me want to write down some of my own experiences.

For those who aren’t to familiar with the story. My parents were both revolutionaries in the civil war in El Salvador. They both were fairly important in the group that they fought with. During the war I was separated from my family and adopted to the US. 15 years later I was reunited with my birth family thanks to efforts of my grandmother. That was in 1997, since that time we have become a big family. I frequently visit my family in central America and they have come to the US on several occasions to visit me as well.

I’m writing this blog with the help of my siblings to tell our story. We want to write our thoughts and feelings about the things we went trough. We also want to help my mother as she writes a book detailing the events that brought us all together. We have been through so much over the years and we are so lucky to have found each other.

This year marks an important year for our family and our story. It was 25 years ago that I was separated from my birth family and this Christmas it will be 10 years since we were reunited. A lot has happened during that time and it has not always been easy but now we can look back and reflect on these incredible events.

My birth mothers name was Ana Milagro Escobar. Milagro is miracle in English and is the inspiration for the name of this blog. This is our story, this is Ana’s Miracle…

Part 1: The adoption, a leap of faith and a miracle reunion.