Travellers boarding a flight from Portland, Oregon, to Vancouver last Monday may have noticed a particularly excited-looking nonagenarian in the lineup, perched happily in a wheelchair and grinning from ear to ear.
At the age of 90, Dorothy Hancock was finally going to meet her “baby brother,” Powell River resident Frank Johnson. When the two embraced on the tarmac of Powell River airport that afternoon, emotions were running high. August 4 was the culmination of years of searching, and the unlikely opportunity to turn a precarious family secret into a joyous celebration. “You see, her dad is my dad and her mother is my aunt,” explained Johnson, eager to get the “scandal” out of the way. “There was a little bit of hanky-panky going on there.” “You’re not supposed to say that,” Hancock quipped playfully, but with a twinge of uneasiness. She and Johnson were born three months apart, with the details of Johnson’s birth and subsequent adoption covered up almost instantly. It was only after he came across a folder of documents at the age of 10 that he learned he was adopted, along with another important detail: “My mother’s name was Grace Cassiar Johnson. I always wanted to find out who she was.” Decades later in the years following his retirement, Johnson began searching more closely. A call to Parent Finders unearthed further information about his birth parents. His grown children helped him as well, posting a note on a genealogy website on his behalf. Ten years went by without a response until one day Hancock’s granddaughter happened to find the note and make a connection. As it turns out, Hancock had been searching too. After overhearing a conversation between her parents when she was a young girl, she began to wonder if she might have a sibling who was born under controversial circumstances. “She was determined that she wanted to have a conclusion to this story.” explained her daughter, Debbie Lowry. “She, in the family, was sort of the one with the curious nature, so if there was ever going to be a mystery solved Dorothy would probably be involved in that.”
Hancock’s granddaughter sent an email to Johnson’s daughter, Carol, filling her in on some of the missing pieces of their search. The two then began exchanging Facebook messages and eventually set up a meeting for their relatives. “[Mom] didn’t really have all the facts but when they found that Frank was here it was the happiest moment,” Lowry continued. “I think then she wasn’t really concerned about scandals.”
And she wasn’t really concerned about travelling either.
Despite the lasting effects of a recent stroke and the fact that she had never flown in an airplane before, Hancock was eager to make the trip to Powell River. With the help of her children, she applied for a passport and even went shopping for a whole new wardrobe. Her departure and arrival went off without a hitch.
“I had a ball,” she laughed. “I just rolled along in the wheelchair and had a great time. It was a wonderful day. First, I knew I was going to see my brother, but it was just exciting and I wasn’t stressed or anything.”
The two spent much of last week making up for lost time, exchanging stories and getting to know the many details of each other’s lives. Johnson had worked for over 50 years in Jervis Inlet in the marine and logging industries while Hancock raised a family in Portland and explored her passion as a painter. “This was the first face-to-face meeting in 90 years,” said Johnson. “It’s absolutely amazing. It’s quite emotional.”
“He’s my brother and I love him,” said Hancock. “It’s just like I’ve had him forever. And he’s really pleasant to be around, he’s not a grouchy old...you know.”
Johnson chuckled. “I had two grandpas and they were dying and they were cranky,” he said. “I’ve got lots of grandkids and I didn’t want them to remember me as a mean old guy so I try to be funny. It’s easier to make somebody laugh.”
With more life and more laughter still to go, Johnson said he looks forward to sharing this newest story with them. “It’s like an old mystery, an Agatha Christie thing,” he said. “It’s something you read about.”
It’s also the kind of closure he and Hancock have always wanted, but perhaps never expected they would get. “I told the kids, if I died tomorrow I’d be happy because I’ve been on a search,” Hancock said. “I just feel at peace, you know. This is something nobody would ever believe at our age.”
