Published: Sunday, September 24, 2006
Lifelong search for blood relatives ends in Valley
By REBECCA SLOAN
VINDICATOR CORRESPONDENT
T HE FIRST TIME HELEN DOMAGALSKI stood at her mother's grave in Youngstown's Calvary Cemetery, she was so overcome with emotion that she wept like a baby.
"I can't tell you what I felt," said Domagalski, a petite, brown-haired grandmother who seems cheerfully young despite her 81 years. "I just cried and cried and cried."
The tears that flowed that day in 2005 had been a long time coming.
Not since March 17, 1925 — the day Domagalski was born — had she been in such proximity to the woman who had given her life.
"I was born on March 17, and my mother died on March 18," said Domagalski, who lives in Modesto, Calif. "So I never knew her."
Neither had Domagalski gotten the chance to know her siblings or father. Shortly after she was born, she was adopted by Peter and Irene Yuth, a childless couple who lived in the Cleveland area.
"I was the 11th child, and I assume my birth father just couldn't take care of another baby, and that's why he put me up for adoption," Domagalski explained, adding, "But I don't know all of the exact details. In those days, people didn't talk about things like that."
Unraveling mysteries
Since 2004, however, Domagalski has been solving the mysteries surrounding her birth — mysteries that have haunted her since girlhood.
She found out when she was in grade that she was adopted but didn't know her birth parents' names — Achilles and Anna Maley Gerome — until she was 18.
"Ever since I was young and learned I was adopted, I've wanted to find my blood family," Domagalski said.
"But although I tried to find them for years and years, I kept hitting dead ends. After I got married and left Ohio, it was difficult to do research. My husband, Richard, was in the military, so we moved around a lot, and I didn't have access to records."
Then, in 2004, at age 79, Domagalski discovered a posting on a genealogy Web site that had been written by a person seeking relatives of Achilles Gerome.
"The message on Genealogy.com had been posted in 2002, so it was already two years old by the time I found it and posted a reply," Domagalski explained. "Because the message was two years old, I didn't know if I'd ever get an answer."
After several weeks passed and Domagalski heard nothing, her heart began to sink.
"I thought it was just another dead end," she said.
And then, a call came ...
Then one evening the telephone rang, and the caller said she was Shirley Lindquist, the daughter of one of Domagalski's older sisters.
"Immediately I started to cry," Domagalski said. "Shirley told me she'd been out of town and that was why she hadn't responded sooner."
After Domagalski stopped crying, she started to ask questions — lots of questions. Fortunately, Lindquist — an avid genealogist and retired American Red Cross director who lives in Houston — was more than happy to provide answers.
"When I first saw the reply to my posting, I nearly fell off my chair," Lindquist said via telephone from Texas.
"Growing up, I'd heard my mother talk about this baby that had been put up for adoption, but nobody knew any of the details. There seemed to be some sort of shame surrounding the idea of putting a child up for adoption. For years, nobody in the family knew if this baby had lived or died, or even if it had been a boy or a girl. Now here was this e-mail from this woman saying she was that baby! I kept thinking, 'Can this be real?' It seemed like a miracle."
That first telephone conversation in 2004 confirmed that miracles do indeed happen, and it wasn't long before Lindquist and Domagalski agreed to meet in person.
First meeting
At that 2005 meeting, which took place in Cleveland, Lindquist shared even more precious tidbits of family history, including old photographs. Among those photographs were portraits of Domagalski's birth father and mother.
Domagalski was utterly thrilled to receive them.
"I felt like I was high and hadn't had a drink!" Domagalski said. "My husband told me that I was floating around the house. When I first got the photos, I would just sit and look at them over and over again."
Domagalski is still smitten with the photographs and, as she caresses the pages of an album crammed with the black and white pictures from a bygone era, she eagerly elaborates on the identities of each subject.
"This is my mother's sister; this is my grandmother," she said, turning pages.
The photographs evoke a poignant story of their own about hardscrabble beginnings for Mahoning Valley immigrants. There are somber children in sailor suits, grim grandmothers in turn-of-the-century garb, and pretty girls in white gowns, and nearly everybody looks unmistakably Italian.
"Both my parents were full-blooded Italians, so I'm 100 percent Italian," Domagalski said proudly as she points to a picture of her father, a black-haired man who stares from the pages with a look that is bold and brashly masculine.
By contrast, Domagalski's dark-haired, attractive mother appears softer, almost meditative.
"My mother died when she was 35," Domagalski said as she ponders the photograph. "She got married when she was 17 and had one baby after another — 11 total."
Lost her siblings
Five of those children had already died by the time Domagalski was born in 1925. The other five who survived to adulthood — Mary Margaret, Joseph, Madeline, Anthony and Doris — had also passed on by the time Domagalski made contact with Lindquist.
"I didn't get to meet any of my brothers or sisters," Domagalski said. "But I have gotten to meet many nieces, nephews and cousins. There are so many new family members, it's been kind of overwhelming. I'm still trying to absorb it all and keep everybody straight. I am so grateful to Shirley [Lindquist] for opening this all up for me. I call her my angel — my shining star."
A trip earlier this month to the Youngstown area was like a nonstop family reunion for Domagalski.
During an afternoon visit at Lake Vista Retirement Community in Cortland at the apartment of Sue Motzer — another of Domagalski's nieces — relatives gathered to make acquaintances, swap stories and piece together a family puzzle that just keeps growing.
"It keeps getting bigger and bigger," Domagalski said, unfolding a genealogy chart crowded with names of relatives both living and dead. "I don't know who I'll find next!"
Brother looked for her
One thing that Domagalski was pleased to discover is that, for many years, her brother, Joseph Gerome, had also been trying to find her.
"One of the first things Helen asked me was, 'Why didn't any of my brothers or sisters ever try to find me?'" Lindquist said.
"I told her that the adoption had been kept quiet, and her siblings didn't even know if she was living or dead, but that her brother Joe had tried to find her many times but had been unsuccessful. The family didn't even know her name, so it was difficult. For many years, Joe searched records at Catholic orphanages in the Midwest."
Ironically, Joseph Gerome and Domagalski had at one time worked in the same building in Cleveland, and Domagalski's other brother, Anthony Gerome, had lived near her in California at one time. Despite these coincidences, their paths never crossed.
"I guess I wasn't so easy to find. My husband and I moved 38 times and lived all over the United States, including Alaska and Hawaii," she said.
Growing up in Cleveland
Domagalski grew up in the Cleveland area and graduated from Maple Heights High School. She first learned she was adopted when she was in grade school.
"When I was a small child, kids at school would say to me 'That woman's not really your mother. One day I asked my adoptive mother about it, and she said to me, 'Yes, you are adopted, and one day I'll tell you about it,'" Domagalski said.
But Domagalski's adoptive mother never did divulge any particulars. Domagalski didn't know the names of her birth parents until she was 18 and had to obtain a copy of her birth certificate for employment purposes. The birth certificate also noted how many other children the Geromes had.
Why Youngstown?
Although her birth parents were living in Cleveland when Domagalski was born, they had originally settled in Youngstown.
"That is why Helen's mother is buried in Calvary Cemetery," Lindquist explained. "She wanted to be buried in the family plot."
After Domagalski's birth mother died, Domagalski's birth father moved the family to Detroit, where many relatives still reside. Achilles Gerome remarried in Detroit, but the marriage didn't last.
"The second marriage didn't work out, and they separated, and then he had other relationships. He followed a woman to Iowa and is buried there."
Domagalski has not yet paid a visit to her birth father's grave but said she'd like to. For now, she is savoring every newfound relative and every new family story.
"All my life I kept praying that I'd find something out. I had just about given up. When I was 79, right before I got some answers, I had said to God, 'Well, it better happen soon!' And it did!" Domagalski said.
Domagalski and her husband have three children, who also live in California.
Lindquist and Domagalski continue to search for more Gerome family members in the Youngstown area.
Sunday, September 24, 2006
By REBECCA SLOAN
VINDICATOR CORRESPONDENT
T HE FIRST TIME HELEN DOMAGALSKI stood at her mother's grave in Youngstown's Calvary Cemetery, she was so overcome with emotion that she wept like a baby.
"I can't tell you what I felt," said Domagalski, a petite, brown-haired grandmother who seems cheerfully young despite her 81 years. "I just cried and cried and cried."
The tears that flowed that day in 2005 had been a long time coming.
Not since March 17, 1925 — the day Domagalski was born — had she been in such proximity to the woman who had given her life.
"I was born on March 17, and my mother died on March 18," said Domagalski, who lives in Modesto, Calif. "So I never knew her."
Neither had Domagalski gotten the chance to know her siblings or father. Shortly after she was born, she was adopted by Peter and Irene Yuth, a childless couple who lived in the Cleveland area.
"I was the 11th child, and I assume my birth father just couldn't take care of another baby, and that's why he put me up for adoption," Domagalski explained, adding, "But I don't know all of the exact details. In those days, people didn't talk about things like that."
Unraveling mysteries
Since 2004, however, Domagalski has been solving the mysteries surrounding her birth — mysteries that have haunted her since girlhood.
She found out when she was in grade that she was adopted but didn't know her birth parents' names — Achilles and Anna Maley Gerome — until she was 18.
"Ever since I was young and learned I was adopted, I've wanted to find my blood family," Domagalski said.
"But although I tried to find them for years and years, I kept hitting dead ends. After I got married and left Ohio, it was difficult to do research. My husband, Richard, was in the military, so we moved around a lot, and I didn't have access to records."
Then, in 2004, at age 79, Domagalski discovered a posting on a genealogy Web site that had been written by a person seeking relatives of Achilles Gerome.
"The message on Genealogy.com had been posted in 2002, so it was already two years old by the time I found it and posted a reply," Domagalski explained. "Because the message was two years old, I didn't know if I'd ever get an answer."
After several weeks passed and Domagalski heard nothing, her heart began to sink.
"I thought it was just another dead end," she said.
And then, a call came ...
Then one evening the telephone rang, and the caller said she was Shirley Lindquist, the daughter of one of Domagalski's older sisters.
"Immediately I started to cry," Domagalski said. "Shirley told me she'd been out of town and that was why she hadn't responded sooner."
After Domagalski stopped crying, she started to ask questions — lots of questions. Fortunately, Lindquist — an avid genealogist and retired American Red Cross director who lives in Houston — was more than happy to provide answers.
"When I first saw the reply to my posting, I nearly fell off my chair," Lindquist said via telephone from Texas.
"Growing up, I'd heard my mother talk about this baby that had been put up for adoption, but nobody knew any of the details. There seemed to be some sort of shame surrounding the idea of putting a child up for adoption. For years, nobody in the family knew if this baby had lived or died, or even if it had been a boy or a girl. Now here was this e-mail from this woman saying she was that baby! I kept thinking, 'Can this be real?' It seemed like a miracle."
That first telephone conversation in 2004 confirmed that miracles do indeed happen, and it wasn't long before Lindquist and Domagalski agreed to meet in person.
First meeting
At that 2005 meeting, which took place in Cleveland, Lindquist shared even more precious tidbits of family history, including old photographs. Among those photographs were portraits of Domagalski's birth father and mother.
Domagalski was utterly thrilled to receive them.
"I felt like I was high and hadn't had a drink!" Domagalski said. "My husband told me that I was floating around the house. When I first got the photos, I would just sit and look at them over and over again."
Domagalski is still smitten with the photographs and, as she caresses the pages of an album crammed with the black and white pictures from a bygone era, she eagerly elaborates on the identities of each subject.
"This is my mother's sister; this is my grandmother," she said, turning pages.
The photographs evoke a poignant story of their own about hardscrabble beginnings for Mahoning Valley immigrants. There are somber children in sailor suits, grim grandmothers in turn-of-the-century garb, and pretty girls in white gowns, and nearly everybody looks unmistakably Italian.
"Both my parents were full-blooded Italians, so I'm 100 percent Italian," Domagalski said proudly as she points to a picture of her father, a black-haired man who stares from the pages with a look that is bold and brashly masculine.
By contrast, Domagalski's dark-haired, attractive mother appears softer, almost meditative.
"My mother died when she was 35," Domagalski said as she ponders the photograph. "She got married when she was 17 and had one baby after another — 11 total."
Lost her siblings
Five of those children had already died by the time Domagalski was born in 1925. The other five who survived to adulthood — Mary Margaret, Joseph, Madeline, Anthony and Doris — had also passed on by the time Domagalski made contact with Lindquist.
"I didn't get to meet any of my brothers or sisters," Domagalski said. "But I have gotten to meet many nieces, nephews and cousins. There are so many new family members, it's been kind of overwhelming. I'm still trying to absorb it all and keep everybody straight. I am so grateful to Shirley [Lindquist] for opening this all up for me. I call her my angel — my shining star."
A trip earlier this month to the Youngstown area was like a nonstop family reunion for Domagalski.
During an afternoon visit at Lake Vista Retirement Community in Cortland at the apartment of Sue Motzer — another of Domagalski's nieces — relatives gathered to make acquaintances, swap stories and piece together a family puzzle that just keeps growing.
"It keeps getting bigger and bigger," Domagalski said, unfolding a genealogy chart crowded with names of relatives both living and dead. "I don't know who I'll find next!"
Brother looked for her
One thing that Domagalski was pleased to discover is that, for many years, her brother, Joseph Gerome, had also been trying to find her.
"One of the first things Helen asked me was, 'Why didn't any of my brothers or sisters ever try to find me?'" Lindquist said.
"I told her that the adoption had been kept quiet, and her siblings didn't even know if she was living or dead, but that her brother Joe had tried to find her many times but had been unsuccessful. The family didn't even know her name, so it was difficult. For many years, Joe searched records at Catholic orphanages in the Midwest."
Ironically, Joseph Gerome and Domagalski had at one time worked in the same building in Cleveland, and Domagalski's other brother, Anthony Gerome, had lived near her in California at one time. Despite these coincidences, their paths never crossed.
"I guess I wasn't so easy to find. My husband and I moved 38 times and lived all over the United States, including Alaska and Hawaii," she said.
Growing up in Cleveland
Domagalski grew up in the Cleveland area and graduated from Maple Heights High School. She first learned she was adopted when she was in grade school.
"When I was a small child, kids at school would say to me 'That woman's not really your mother. One day I asked my adoptive mother about it, and she said to me, 'Yes, you are adopted, and one day I'll tell you about it,'" Domagalski said.
But Domagalski's adoptive mother never did divulge any particulars. Domagalski didn't know the names of her birth parents until she was 18 and had to obtain a copy of her birth certificate for employment purposes. The birth certificate also noted how many other children the Geromes had.
Why Youngstown?
Although her birth parents were living in Cleveland when Domagalski was born, they had originally settled in Youngstown.
"That is why Helen's mother is buried in Calvary Cemetery," Lindquist explained. "She wanted to be buried in the family plot."
After Domagalski's birth mother died, Domagalski's birth father moved the family to Detroit, where many relatives still reside. Achilles Gerome remarried in Detroit, but the marriage didn't last.
"The second marriage didn't work out, and they separated, and then he had other relationships. He followed a woman to Iowa and is buried there."
Domagalski has not yet paid a visit to her birth father's grave but said she'd like to. For now, she is savoring every newfound relative and every new family story.
"All my life I kept praying that I'd find something out. I had just about given up. When I was 79, right before I got some answers, I had said to God, 'Well, it better happen soon!' And it did!" Domagalski said.
Domagalski and her husband have three children, who also live in California.
Lindquist and Domagalski continue to search for more Gerome family members in the Youngstown area.
Sunday, September 24, 2006
the day Domagalski was born — had she been in such proximity to the woman who had given her life.
"I was born on...
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