ONE COURAGEOUS WOMAN’S REMARKABLE JOURNEY 

IN THE BEGINNING . . . 

Once upon a time in the west, a Wyoming cowboy (maybe the original Marlboro man) paid a visit to the big city of Denver, Colorado. In the 1920’s cowboys came to town in their boots, often with a saddle slung over one shoulder.

Author’s notes:1. I remember Denver in the 1960’s when these handsome cowpokes meandered from the train station to town. I was awe struck and even asked one, “Are you a real cowboy?”  And then I took his photograph.  What a site for a young girl from D.C. 

2. I have changed the names of the boy and girl below. University of Northern Colorado has also carried the names Greeley College and Colorado State College of Education

Now, where was I? Oh yes. The cowboy by the name of Jim went to a Valentine Dance where his eyes were drawn to Cora, a Denver school marm from Simla, Colorado and educated at Greeley College. Almost immediately it was love for both of them.  The cowboy has been described as a ne’re do well, going from ranch to ranch.

But Cora saw none of this and, as it often happens, a scandalous (“scandalous” in the 1920’s) affair began, resulting in, how shall we put this, Cora found herself “with child”.   On December 3, 1923, their beautiful baby girl was born at St. Luke’s Hospital and labeled “illegitimate”. 

“ To be illegitimate was to be shamed and shunned.” From “The Adoption History Project”, University of Oregon. 

The word “illegitimate” in describing children is now so rare that young people today have no idea it ever existed. I call that good news. However, it was into that environment that our Parker United Methodist Church (PUMC) heroine was born. The cowboy was made to pay for the birth. The baby was taken, almost immediately, to Denver Christian Home (now Tennyson Center) and her birth records were sealed.

“Many states, provinces and countries adopted this practice in the early to mid-20th century with the aim of protecting the adopted person from the shame of his or her illegitimate birth.” From Wikipedia. 

SERENDIPITIES EVERY WHERE . . .

At about the same time that the cowboy came to Denver, another young man heeded Horace Greeley’s advice, “Go west”. Ralston Allen Adams was an Alabama teenager when he departed from his boxcar and landed just east of Denver, Colorado.

 Ralston met and fell in love with Zelda Wickes. Our heroine, a lover of history, relates that the Wickes were from Chicago and came to Colorado with a group of Methodists settling up and down the Platte River. Eventually the Wickes settled in Ft. Vasquez, now Brighton. They were dry land farmers, “very religious, fun people who believed in the importance of family.”

 So, Zelda Wickes married Ralston Allen Adams, settling in Brighton Colorado where Ralston became well known as he sold WT Rawleigh products to ranchers. 

 Pillars of their community and good Methodists, Mr. and Mrs. Adams were not able to have children. And this is where their paths crossed with Cora, the cowboy and the new baby girl.  Just seven days after her birth on December 10, 1923 she was adopted by Mr. and Mrs. Ralston Allen Adams of Brighton, Colorado.

You guessed it; the beautiful baby is the elegant woman we know as …..

BOBBI ADAMS STOREY

 Bobbi describes her adopted mom, Zelda, as a red haired, freckled face beauty. “She looked like Joan Crawford or Bette Davis. They were very brilliant and loving people.” She adored her parents and characterizes her father, “that darling father of mine.” No pity party from Bobbi who often thanks God, “I was such a fortunate child to start out life this way.” Even with the great Depression raging, her dad, Ralston, was able to provide a good living as a top salesman.

 Growing up in Brighton, her love of music blossomed, singing with 52 other children in the United Methodist Church in Brighton. Her mom made all of the robes for the children.  They toured throughout the state with their high school teacher and choir director, Virtual Purvis.

 Her mom, a talented seamstress, was a remarkably caring person.  Zelda befriended dozens of Mexican national children whose parents came to Adams County to help with the farming. Mrs. Adams made coats for each child. Bobbi recalls being on the lookout for children who had no coats and then Zelda worked her magic at the sewing machine, honoring each family as she finished each coat.

Early on, Bobbi demonstrated her passion for performing and memorizing poems so why not try the accordion.  She literally picked up the instrument and, without music but a good ear, began playing.  Her accordion teacher tried, unsuccessfully, to teach her how to read music, matching the written notes to the notes on the instrument. Bobbi just could not get that and, in frustration, her teacher gave up just let her play the songs she loved.

 To this day, this “good ear” is a gift Bobbi has. In her home, she has a small organ and away she goes, regaling us with songs we know and love.  I just could not stop singing. “Oh, do you know this one?” asks Bobbi and then another song comes out of her head and onto the keyboard and we sing along.  Perhaps you’ve been fortunate enough to hear Bobbi recite.  Sometime, ask her about the recitation called “William, Just Afore Christmas”.  “Mud Pie” is one of her favorite songs and she beautifully sang it for me in her rich alto voice with just a touch of vibrato, really lovely….

“Do you remember one day in September when you and I played we were married?

And to you I’d carry some water and mud to make pies….” 

FULLY ACQUAINTED WITH PAIN AND SORROW…

 The ability to recite came with sorrow and pain. As a child, she fell victim to the measles (rubeola) epidemic.  Although she lived through the ravages of the initial virus, she was left with a serious bacterial infection, rheumatic fever, which confined her to bed and a wheel chair. “I was so alone and I wanted desperately to go back to school.”

 The Center for Disease Control and Prevention estimates that in the decade before the measles, mumps, rubella (MMR) vaccine, 4-5 million people in the US died each year from the disease and many others developed chronic disabilities as a result of the infection.

As a complication from the bacterial infection of rheumatic fever, she developed Sydenham’s Chorea, commonly referred to as St.Vitus Dance which is characterized by rapid, uncoordinated jerking movements of the face and feet. St. Vitus Dance is reported to occur in 20-30 % of patients with rheumatic fever. 

CLIMB!

   CLIMB!

         CLIMB!

Through the pits of despair, loneliness and unbelievable pain, Bobbi held onto her mom’s strength.  More than nursing care, her mother showed Bobbi the world, reading, singing and teaching her patient to memorize. “The Lord Is My Shepherd…” Psalm 23, is one of Bobbi’s favorites.  “So, I could not run or jump but I learned to recite. And my mom read to me with great drama.”  Bobbi remembers people coming in, praying over her.  Choirs came and sang to her.  Her mother’s natural instincts to “deinstitutionalize” and use Bobbi’s gifts opened a new world outside of her bedroom. “I loved people, and I still do, performing for anybody who would listen to me.” She played her accordion “…all over Adams County.” Prior to her illness she loved dancing, ballet and tap. And now, her mom persevered to introduce her to Denver’s society as Bobbi performed recitations and accordion “in the great homes of Denver and many churches.” Bobbi discovered she had a dramatic flair and excellent comedic timing. Her body and spirit began to slowly heal.  Even with all of the illnesses she describes herself as “a happy go lucky kid. I still like to tell people stories.  Because of the way I was raised, I like to entertain and I love center stage.  As long as I have applause, I am happy.” Bobbi reflects on her life with great happiness, “I was showered with love. Even during the depression, my father had no problem earning a good living.” 

 By high school, she was out of the wheelchair and was the drum major, leading the band to small colleges in Colorado.

A born extrovert, she brought many friends home to meet her mom. I wish I could have been part of this fantastic group of friends and family.

 FINALLY, AN “AHA” MOMENT….

 Puzzled why her mom would constantly instruct Bobbi to come to her if she had any questions, Bobbi was laughing with the other girls at a slumber party when she became aware of a very big question filling her consciousness.  The girls described their births, where they were born, some in a hospital, some at home.  It then occurred to Bobbi she knew nothing about her birth.  So she mustered up her courage, calmly approached her mom, “I think I know what you wanted to tell me if I had any questions.” It was at this moment, her mom revealed she had been adopted.  However, since adoption records were sealed, it wasn’t until much later that Bobbi could trace her blood roots.

LIFE MOVES ON AND SO DOES BOBBI….

After graduation, she attended College in Greeley. But, we need to back up just a bit.  You see there was a mixer at East High School in Denver. And, seemingly out of nowhere, a man came up and, out of all the girls, he asked Bobbi to dance. “Oh, he was handsome and athletic, very friendly and loved to sing.” And that is how she met Robert L. Storey, her future husband.  The other girls asked her why he picked her over all of them.  Although Bobbi cannot answer this, I think it was one of those “God things”.

She stayed at college one year. She and Robert married, just as our country was beginning to realize victory in World War II.

Feeling his patriotism calling, Robert became part of the Air Corps.  There was a little hiccup in this assignment.  You see Robert, a little bit of a show off, buzz dived (I think that is the term) a buddy’s plane.  At least that’s what he thought.  Turned out not to be the buddy but Robert’s commander.  So Robert said “goodbye” to the Air Corp and “hello” to the Navy and was assigned to Buzzard Bay off the coast of Maine. This site was part of the U.S. defense against Nazi submarines.

“Located on the Southeastern end of West Island overlooking Buzzards Bay is a 48-foot concrete tower that has served as a reference point from land, sea and air at the town beach for over 70 years.” From The Advocate

Not one to sit idly by, Bobbi took a number of little jobs.  She was hired by Remington Arms, making machine-gun-bullet belts. She describes this as a sort of assembly line where she would thread bullets through their belt-like-container.  She laughs when relating this and compares her work to Lucille Ball’s unforgettable sketch of trying to keep up with the chocolates on the conveyer belt.  (Most of you will recall this with hilarious laughter).

 Bobbi says she was so bad, they never called her by name, just referring to her as “Number Six”. “I couldn’t even boil water.” She took jobs at the National Biscuit Company and also became a dental assistant.

MEANWHILE, BACK IN COLORADO . . .

War came to a close and Robert finished his education at Colorado State College of Education.  While he was in school, they lived in a Quonset hut.

He would get up early, deliver milk and attend class while she waited tables at the Scandia Tea Room.

One of Robert’s enterprises was connected with the movie business.  Because of his good looks and charismatic personality, Robert was hired as a model for The Alexander Film Company. Advertising films were shown in movies during intermission or at drive-ins before the show started.  Bobbi and Chris remember Robert bringing home Charleston Heston and they were impressed by Mr. Heston’s kindness.

Robert became a land developer and builder all over Colorado’s small towns. Eventually, he felt he had run out of places to develop and that is when Bobbi said to him, “Well, go out to Parker. There’s not much there.”     My understanding is that he took her advice and is greatly responsible for one of the first neighborhoods in north Parker. 

SPIRITED RESILIENT FAMILY….

 The Storeys added two sons and a daughter to their journey. Our PUMC Chris is the oldest, followed by Barbara and then another son, Ryan. “My children are a gift to me and I really mean that.” Although I have never met Ryan, Chris and Barbara speak of both parents with great pride. Chris tells me his mom has an amazing spirit, capacity for love and is an unwavering advocate for them.  She followed in Zelda’s footsteps refusing to let her children fall through cracks designed by bureaucrats.  His mom, Chris adds, adores little children, teaching Sunday School for many years.  Reports Chris, “You should see her with little children. She stoops down to be on a level with each child and each one feels special.”  Bobbi’s face brightens at talk of little children. “I would really love to go hiking in the mountains with a group of kids who have never done that.” 

 Inheriting and cultivating her gift, daughter Barbara is an artist, painting magnificent wall and ceiling murals in homes in Colorado and other places. Chris has inherited his mom’s talent for singing and memorizing more songs than I can count. Chris also joined in his dad’s construction business, leading the landscaping crew.

Ryan, explains Chris and Bobbi is also an individualist.  At Ryan’s wedding, he regaled his wife and family when he jumped on a table and gustily sang, “L’chai-im” (To Life) from Fiddler on the Roof. 

A VEIL IS TORN DOWN….

MAY I HAVE THE PLEASURE OF INTRODUCING…

 Some years after adoption records were open, Bobbi found she had blood brothers and a sister.  One brother was the mayor of a sizeable city.  Another was a minister.  Just as she and husband, Robert, were getting ready to fly to Europe, her minister brother flew immediately to Colorado. He told his congregation, “I have to leave right away. I just found out I have a sister in Colorado” and with that he flew out to meet Bobbi and her family.  As you can imagine, they had a wonderful visit.  In addition, she found a sister in Panama who has her own remarkable story:

Bobbi’s sister in Panama had a daughter who was a nun with the Sisters of Loretto. This daughter started an incredible ministry and opened a refuge assisting lepers.  Only in her twenties, the daughter died but her mom (Bobbi’s blood sister) continued her daughter’s ministry in Panama.

So, of course, Bobbi flew off to Panama, met her sister and saw all of the many places her sister had started. Over the years, she has lost contact with them but she seems to have great sense of fulfillment in meeting her siblings.

The little “illegitimate” baby has forged ahead through crippling illnesses, many heartaches and has formed lifetime friendships. Her optimistic caring outlook impacts everyone she touches.  She looks to the future,  “I want something magnificent to happen to change the way we think….something much more positive.  But, I think it’s a better world because we have really outstanding people all around us.”

When I started my interviews, lunches, numerous phone calls with Bobbi, Chris and Barbara, I thought it was going to be about our PUMC heroine, Bobbi Storey.

 But NO! 

 This is a tale of families from Illinois, Alabama, Wyoming, Arizona, California, Panama and probably many other places. This lineage consists of pioneers, ranchers, cowboys, teachers, artists, missionaries, builders, gardeners, painters, ministers, mayors, singers and the list goes on. 

 It is about overcoming generations of horrible labels, insurmountable suffering, financial gains and setbacks, refusing to accept the formidable, dire predictions of systems trying to limit individual potential. It is the courage to sing, sing, sing and keep climbing looking to our Lord as we struggle.  

GREATNESS ALL AROUND US. CAN YOU SEE IT? 

The Remarkable Journey of Bobbi Jean Adams Storey is, in no way, illegitimate.  

You made all the delicate, inner parts of my body     and knit me together in my mother’s womb. ¹⁴ Thank you for making me so wonderfully complex!     Your workmanship is marvelous—how well I know it. ¹⁵ You watched me as I was being formed in utter seclusion,     as I was woven together in the dark of the womb. ¹⁶ You saw me before I was born.     Every day of my life was recorded in your book. Every moment was laid out     before a single day had passed.

 ¹⁷ How precious are your thoughts about me,^s O God.     They cannot be numbered! ¹⁸ I can’t even count them;     they outnumber the grains of sand! And when I wake up,     you are still with me!

Psalm 139:13-18

Nora Jane Palmer Fox

September, 2014

Many thanks to Denver C Fox for technical assistance