Read Online Finding Dad: From "Love Child" to Daughter by Kara Sundlun - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Kara Sundlun
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To realize they’ve been wrong? Baskin was suspicious. So was Mom, who wasted no time expressing her opinion. “Sure, now he responds. He’s just trying to save himself, since the public sees how bad he’s been.”
Mom was boiling mad, and I couldn’t blame her. She had no reason to have any faith in him, and, unlike me, nothing to gain.
“I’m the one who raised you all alone, and all he can do is slander me. What kind man does that?”
“Maybe he’ll make things right if we just give him a chance.” I could hope, couldn’t I?
“He better apologize to me and issue a retraction for his slur campaign, or I’m going to have to sue him for damages because he’s trying hurt my business.”
She raged on, then calmed down and apologized for getting angry. “You should do what you want, and I’ll support you.”
Mom was built soft and sensitive, and got her feelings easily hurt on a good day. I worried what this might do to her and our relationship. I didn’t want to gain a father at the expense of losing my mother. But I knew as much as this hurt, her love was unconditional. Unfortunately, I had no control over the media monster that was growing.
It had been a crazy week, and my patience and heart were on emotional overload. My father’s news conference had been on Tuesday, mine was Wednesday, and now on Thursday, he was making his television appeal.
Henry said he would be in contact with my father’s lawyers over the weekend to try and reach a settlement. In the meantime, he asked that we not do anything more on our own with the press. Technically, the law wasn’t on our side, since Mom had signed the settlement papers years ago. But Henry hoped the public pressure would force my father to settle again.
Today, what happened to me would be illegal. We can thank the famous basketball player Isiah Thomas, who tried to give the mother of his child a lump sum. The courts ruled that parents must provide for the child over the course of his or her lifetime.
But in 1993, my case was a lightning rod, in part because I was a teen fighting for my own rights, since Mom had given hers up. All weekend long, the press was camped outside my house, my school, and anywhere else they thought they might find someone who knew me. As a reporter now, I know they were all looking for the M-O-S sound bite, or Man-On-the-Street, interview they could use in their live reports that night. And this brought out some pretenders.
One TV news reporter asked a girl in my class at the 7-11 what she thought. “Shocking, just shocking. Kara never talked about it.”
Of course, I didn’t. I’d barely spoken two words to the girl.
The Providence Journal called it a “secret rarely shared,” quoting my classmate, Jerry, who probably said it best: “This was a shock to a lot of her friends. I don’t think a lot of people expected her dad to be a governor of a state, and a millionaire.”
Brooke, who had been through it all with me, said, “She told her close, close friends…she didn’t want to make a big deal of it.”
Thankfully, school was already out, so I didn’t have to walk past news cameras on my way to class. But that didn’t stop the news crews from using West Bloomfield High as a backdrop for their reports. I tried to go about my normal days, but now when my boyfriend picked me up, he ended up on the front page of the paper driving me away in his convertible.
Though Henry had asked me not to give any interviews, I did give my baby picture to Barbara Meagher, a TV reporter from WLNE the then-CBS station in Providence, who had been camped outside for a while. Where most reporters just raised their cameras to start taking pictures when I walked by, Barbara showed a human, almost maternal, side and asked how I was holding up without shoving a camera in my face. She kindly asked if she could have a baby picture to show on the news that night. I gave it to her because she was so nice, and promised not to ask me any
Mom was boiling mad, and I couldn’t blame her. She had no reason to have any faith in him, and, unlike me, nothing to gain.
“I’m the one who raised you all alone, and all he can do is slander me. What kind man does that?”
“Maybe he’ll make things right if we just give him a chance.” I could hope, couldn’t I?
“He better apologize to me and issue a retraction for his slur campaign, or I’m going to have to sue him for damages because he’s trying hurt my business.”
She raged on, then calmed down and apologized for getting angry. “You should do what you want, and I’ll support you.”
Mom was built soft and sensitive, and got her feelings easily hurt on a good day. I worried what this might do to her and our relationship. I didn’t want to gain a father at the expense of losing my mother. But I knew as much as this hurt, her love was unconditional. Unfortunately, I had no control over the media monster that was growing.
It had been a crazy week, and my patience and heart were on emotional overload. My father’s news conference had been on Tuesday, mine was Wednesday, and now on Thursday, he was making his television appeal.
Henry said he would be in contact with my father’s lawyers over the weekend to try and reach a settlement. In the meantime, he asked that we not do anything more on our own with the press. Technically, the law wasn’t on our side, since Mom had signed the settlement papers years ago. But Henry hoped the public pressure would force my father to settle again.
Today, what happened to me would be illegal. We can thank the famous basketball player Isiah Thomas, who tried to give the mother of his child a lump sum. The courts ruled that parents must provide for the child over the course of his or her lifetime.
But in 1993, my case was a lightning rod, in part because I was a teen fighting for my own rights, since Mom had given hers up. All weekend long, the press was camped outside my house, my school, and anywhere else they thought they might find someone who knew me. As a reporter now, I know they were all looking for the M-O-S sound bite, or Man-On-the-Street, interview they could use in their live reports that night. And this brought out some pretenders.
One TV news reporter asked a girl in my class at the 7-11 what she thought. “Shocking, just shocking. Kara never talked about it.”
Of course, I didn’t. I’d barely spoken two words to the girl.
The Providence Journal called it a “secret rarely shared,” quoting my classmate, Jerry, who probably said it best: “This was a shock to a lot of her friends. I don’t think a lot of people expected her dad to be a governor of a state, and a millionaire.”
Brooke, who had been through it all with me, said, “She told her close, close friends…she didn’t want to make a big deal of it.”
Thankfully, school was already out, so I didn’t have to walk past news cameras on my way to class. But that didn’t stop the news crews from using West Bloomfield High as a backdrop for their reports. I tried to go about my normal days, but now when my boyfriend picked me up, he ended up on the front page of the paper driving me away in his convertible.
Though Henry had asked me not to give any interviews, I did give my baby picture to Barbara Meagher, a TV reporter from WLNE the then-CBS station in Providence, who had been camped outside for a while. Where most reporters just raised their cameras to start taking pictures when I walked by, Barbara showed a human, almost maternal, side and asked how I was holding up without shoving a camera in my face. She kindly asked if she could have a baby picture to show on the news that night. I gave it to her because she was so nice, and promised not to ask me any
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