Any normal man would be angered and offended if someone was to speak badly about his mother...
Moms are sacred. They may not be perfect. No one is. But they're still mothers and are therefore worthy of love and respect.
For the past week I've been addressing the subject of my birth mother and how she has often been maligned in many different crime shows, and in books and articles, as well. This is with regard to the relationship she and I had, and the circumstances surrounding my birth.
Again and again the public has been told that I was angry at my mother for placing me up for adoption. That somehow the shootings which occurred were psychologically linked to this. But if the public knew the actual facts, it was my birth father who insisted I be placed for adoption. Despite my mother's pleas, he demanded and pressured her not to bring me home from the hospital.
My birth father was a stern man. He controlled the relationship. He also paid the bills, which meant a lot to a woman whose husband abandoned her years earlier. When my mother's former husband took off with another woman, this forced my mom to raise her daughter, my half-sister, by herself. Having another man come into her life was a blessing. She was living in poverty at the time, when a prosperous businessman who had a family of his own, introduced himself.
This began a long-term relationship which lasted for many years. When she was about age forty, she got pregnant with me. Her paramour, Joe, made it clear she was not going to bring the child home. So arrangements were made for a couple in the Bronx to take me from the hospital into their residence, and this is what happened.
I was about five years of age when I was told by my adoptive parents that my mother died while giving birth to me. So I grew up thinking my mom was dead. She really wasn't. Years later I would learn the truth. Nevertheless, when I met my birth mother for the first time, we hit it off just fine. I could not have been more pleased.
Looking back, my mom made the right decision not to raise me. My birth father rejected me even before I was born. I would've therefore had to live in a home devoid of a loving and nurturing father. So I'm thankful I was taken into the home of Nathan and Pearl Berkowitz. They were a kind and loving couple who welcomed me into their lives.
Contrary to all those "talking-heads" who claim to know the facts, the truth is that my birth mother had done nothing whatsoever to cause me to commit the crimes I had been charged with. She is fully undeserving of any blame. My mother Betty should be commended, not maligned.
D. B.
For the past week I've been addressing the subject of my birth mother and how she has often been maligned in many different crime shows, and in books and articles, as well. This is with regard to the relationship she and I had, and the circumstances surrounding my birth.
Again and again the public has been told that I was angry at my mother for placing me up for adoption. That somehow the shootings which occurred were psychologically linked to this. But if the public knew the actual facts, it was my birth father who insisted I be placed for adoption. Despite my mother's pleas, he demanded and pressured her not to bring me home from the hospital.
My birth father was a stern man. He controlled the relationship. He also paid the bills, which meant a lot to a woman whose husband abandoned her years earlier. When my mother's former husband took off with another woman, this forced my mom to raise her daughter, my half-sister, by herself. Having another man come into her life was a blessing. She was living in poverty at the time, when a prosperous businessman who had a family of his own, introduced himself.
This began a long-term relationship which lasted for many years. When she was about age forty, she got pregnant with me. Her paramour, Joe, made it clear she was not going to bring the child home. So arrangements were made for a couple in the Bronx to take me from the hospital into their residence, and this is what happened.
I was about five years of age when I was told by my adoptive parents that my mother died while giving birth to me. So I grew up thinking my mom was dead. She really wasn't. Years later I would learn the truth. Nevertheless, when I met my birth mother for the first time, we hit it off just fine. I could not have been more pleased.
Looking back, my mom made the right decision not to raise me. My birth father rejected me even before I was born. I would've therefore had to live in a home devoid of a loving and nurturing father. So I'm thankful I was taken into the home of Nathan and Pearl Berkowitz. They were a kind and loving couple who welcomed me into their lives.
Contrary to all those "talking-heads" who claim to know the facts, the truth is that my birth mother had done nothing whatsoever to cause me to commit the crimes I had been charged with. She is fully undeserving of any blame. My mother Betty should be commended, not maligned.
D. B.
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