I Didn't Know I Was Black Until You Told Me

By Thomas Kirst

An inspirational book detailing the profound changes in the life of a black child being left at a hospital after birth. Thirteen months into his life being adopted by a white couple that migrated from Europe before World War 2, who would later adopt over twenty children with different nationalities.

The author writes of his emotional struggles from being abandoned and not knowing how to accept love to searching for answers to the pain and confusion that comes with growing up in white ch

• Language: English
• Publisher: Newman Springs Publishing, Inc.
• Release date: Jan 31, 2020
• ISBN: 9781640968820

Book preview

Chapter 1

I am the son of German and Austrian immigrants. The people that adopted me are my mother and father. My mother came from Yugoslavia, and her family were farmers. She grew up with no electricity, toilet, or running water. She grew up very modest and poor. She walked to school over a mile each way. If I had to walk, not have a TV, and not have running water, I would go crazy.

Her father was drafted by the German Army and, from what she remembers, the German officers told them to leave before the Nazis took over. By way of wagon train, many of the people from her village left for Austria where she would later meet my dad.

My mom first saw a black person at age sixteen years old. She told me they were military men. It’s crazy to me that it was the first time she had seen a black person. She shared with me that my dad’s parents didn’t care for her too much because she came from farmers and had seven other siblings. She also told me three others died. That was normal at that time, all they had was a midwife. Due to her circumstances of growing up very poor, she learned the importance of money.

She recalled to me a story of her and her sister going to town to buy yeast. The two of them fighting over who would carry the bag of money. The bag ripped open and they lost some of the money. Her dad spanked them both so hard she always remembered that feeling. That would become one of her lessons on the importance of money. Hence, why she always saved.

Chapter 2

From what my mom told me and from what I know about my dad, I will share. My dad was the son of a carpenter. He had one brother. They grew up in Germany where they lived before WW2 started. When they knew the Nazis were taking over, they didn’t worry too much of it and stayed.

My dad also spent a short time in the Hitler youth camp. I remember him not wanting to tell me, but he did because I was so interested in that time of his life. I would read up on as much WW2 as I could.

At one point in time, he witnessed Jews being shot and pushed into ditches. He, as many others, didn’t want to be a part of this mentality, which obviously helped change his thinking about different human beings. That would be the time he left Germany with his family. He ended up in a concentration camp and was later sold as a slave. This man loves a black me and lets me call him father, even though he is white.

In history, I learned about slavery, but it didn’t happen to me. So to know my dad was actually a slave at one point in his life, he is able to relate by experience as to what slavery is in full form. It’s mind-boggling to think about. He actually was sold twice. He is white in the 1900s.

The second owners were much nicer to him but he did sleep in a barn with chickens and dogs. After a couple of years, he did say, they wanted to adopt him. He didn’t want to be adopted; he wanted to be with his family.

That is when he decided to run away to find his family. I do know he was fifteen at the time. He found his brother first at another concentration camp. I wish I knew the names of the places he had been. He and his brother then found their mother working at a factory. Soon after, the American Red Cross found their father.

Chapter 3

My mom and dad met at a dance where the girls got to choose who they would dance with. My mom never let him go. Little after two years, they would marry. Soon after, they moved to America. His father lived in the house next door from where I would later grow up.

I know my mom’s parents didn’t come to America. It was mostly my dad’s family. Outside of my dad’s brother I didn’t really know, or remember, anyone else from his family. His brother and he looked like twins. He smiled a lot and my dad was always happy when he would come visit.

Chapter 4

I never thought anything of having a different family by the time I was adopted. I was the first black child they adopted. I was thirteen months old and came around Thanksgiving. Being so young, I didn’t remember anything else.

As I grew a bit older they adopted all blacks after me. I guess I was just that good. There were Asians, Blacks, and Whites. All under one roof. I figure, unless you told me otherwise, I would think it was how everyone lived. We are all just people right? We are all different, some lighter, some darker, and taller, and shorter. Some with black hair to blonde hair, straight to curly.

The first few years as I remember were great. I always had someone to play with, fight with, smile, and cry with as well. In all, these people ended up adopting twenty-one kids, and having three of their own.

I am thirty-seven now as I write this and I can’t imagine what it would take for me to adopt that many kids. With the little I know before they arrived to America, I guess that type of life would make you want to do that. We went to church whenever the doors were open. We always went to white churches. All the black kids adopted were younger then the Asians. So age was what separates us the most. I was second to the youngest. And the oldest is somewhere around twenty or so years older.

Chapter 5

Try to imagine that you’re in a white church and you see this big grey van pull up with all of us filling it up. Then around twenty-four people with all different nationalities come and