Darryl Nelson as a baby.
I asked my mum and dad if I was adopted many times. I didn’t seem to fit in – I had talents they didn’t, my skin tone was different, and I couldn’t see any traits or likenesses in my family.
Beverley Wallace, Darryl’s biological mother.
We found their names and phone numbers, and eventually called Beverley’s last known address in Brisbane. Her mum, Dorothy, answered, and said she had died at the age of 30 from a brain haemorrhage. I would never know my natural mother.
Darryl at the second meeting with his biological father Allen, half-sister Katherine, and adoptive mother Jean.
It turned out there was pressure placed on my mother to adopt me out or never come home again. Her mother, my grandmother, believed a story that Beverley had been the victim of rape, and I was the result. Unfortunately this story wasn’t investigated by the government, and I was bluntly classified as ‘illegitimate’ and ‘unadoptable’, and was sent to a foster family. I was adopted two years later.
Darryl with his biological half-sister, Katherine.
I discovered the story about the alleged rape a couple of years after being united with my birth family. Allen and I both felt he was my real father – we looked alike, same sense of humour too – and we confirmed it with a DNA test, to a high legal standard.
From left to right: Conrad, Joel and Darryl.
Around that time I was writing my will, and wanted to leave inheritance to my natural family, and others. But the lawyer said I couldn’t call them my ‘brothers,’ ‘sister,’ or ‘father’, saying: “They legally have no relationship to you.”
Darryl with his biological father Allen and two brothers before his adoption discharge case in Brisbane.
I did not discharge my adoption out of malice towards my adoptive parents, rather to set the record straight to do with my true identity. As a path to healing.
Nelson (my natural family).