Frank Boehm flanked by his “new” son and daughter, Karl and Kama.
Frank Boehm held the letter in his hands and read its opening line again: “Dr. Boehm, I don’t know an easy way to start this letter on this topic, so I will just start. I believe you are my biological father.”
Frank sat back in his chair, holding the letter from a son he never knew he had. He took a breath, then he rose and walked to the kitchen to talk to his wife, Julie.
The Boehms had just returned to their Nashville home after spending some time at their Boca Raton, Florida, condo, and the routine task of sorting through vacation mail brought a letter that would change several lives.
Everything was anonymous, Frank’s name never appeared on any medical record or birth certificate, but, as the letter in his hand now proved, you can’t hide from your DNA.
The writer was Karl, who lives with his wife, Isabel, and their two children in Tampa, Florida, and in his letter, he said he had recently taken a genetic test and a trace of the results and its matches had led him to Frank. (Karl has asked that his last name not be used in this article because not all members of his family know about his finding his biological father).
In a letter in which every sentence carried great meaning, one that stood out to Frank was: “I was conceived through the help of the Yale Fertility Clinic in 1970.”
Frank and Julie Boehm had discussed that this day was a possibility. Not that they pictured it exactly like this, of course, but Frank had long ago told Julie that while he was a young resident physician in Obstetrics and Gynecology at Yale, he had been a sperm donor.
He had told her how one of his mentors at Yale, Nathan Kase, MD, had asked him to consider being a donor in order to help families who were seeking the help of the Yale Fertility Clinic, and how he had donated several times – motivated by altruism to help infertile couples, and also by the $25 each donation paid.
“My rent at the time was $55 a month,” he recalled. The money definitely came in handy.
Everything was anonymous, Frank’s name never appeared on any medical record or birth certificate, but, as the letter in his hand now proved, you can’t hide from your DNA.
In his long career as an obstetrician specializing in high-risk pregnancies, he delivered more than 10,000 babies. But he wasn’t sure how to handle the news from this “baby.”
There were more surprises to come; what Frank didn’t know at the time was that he also had a daughter who had been conceived through the Yale clinic, and who was also looking for him.
That information would come soon enough.
Telling the children
Frank Boehm, MD, professor of Obstetrics and Gynecology, emeritus, received his undergraduate degree from Vanderbilt in 1962 and earned his medical degree from Vanderbilt University School of Medicine in 1965. In his long career as an obstetrician specializing in high-risk pregnancies, he delivered more than 10,000 babies.
But he wasn’t sure how to handle the news from this “baby.”
“To be honest, my first reaction was that this was a can of worms I did not want to open,” he said. “I was 79 years old, recently retired after 47 years on the faculty at Vanderbilt Medical Center, happily married with three grown children and nine grandchildren. Why would I want to complicate my life at this seemingly peaceful, calm, and wonderful time in my life?”
The answer to that question came from Julie.
“Frank,” she said, “it’s not about you, you know who you are. He needs to know who he is.”
One of the first things Frank knew he had to do was tell his three adult children about their “new” half sibling.
He and Julie flew to Chicago to meet with son Thomas, and daughter Catherine, both of whom live in that area. Thomas is 51 years old and on the faculty of Wheaton College. Catherine, 38, is a labor and delivery nurse at Northwestern Hospital in downtown Chicago. Boehm also spoke by phone that day with his other son, Todd, who lives in Atlanta.
Separately, he also spoke with other trusted family members and his rabbi. It was important to get this right.
Catherine, Thomas and Todd all agreed that Karl’s letter should be answered, that the answer should be positive and welcoming. They were all also intrigued about this new person in the family.
Contact
Frank carefully read and re-read Karl’s letter, and passed it among his family members.
Part of what Karl had written:
The purpose of this letter and my biggest desire would be to thank you. You did something that changed the lives of so many for the better. I can never sufficiently thank you enough. But I wanted to start by reaching out, saying hello, and letting you know that I exist. If you would like to talk, it would be something that I would welcome very much.
Frank wrote and re-wrote his response. An early draft contained a lot of family medical history information that he as a physician wanted his “new” son to know. Julie and his children persuaded him that the first letter back should focus on being welcoming and that more details could come later.
It was on their second call that Karl revealed an additional surprise: in his genealogical research, he had found he had a half sister, also conceived at the Yale Fertility Clinic. Frank not only had a son he didn’t know he had; there was a “new” daughter, too.
Part of Frank’s response:
I truly appreciate your thoughtful letter along with pictures of you and your beautiful family. I am so glad that you have had a good life and a successful business, as well as a wonderful family. I, too, have had a wonderful life…
My parents, Ludwig, and Ilse Boehm came to Nashville in 1938 to escape Nazi Germany during those dark days for Jews. My father came to Nashville because he had a cousin who owned a clothing store and who was willing to sign an affidavit for him to come to America…
I totally understand your desire to know more about who you are and where you came from. I, too, feel it is important for you to have as much as information as possible, which I am happy to provide.
And with that, contact between the father and son who had not met in half a century began. They spoke on the phone for more than an hour a few days later, but it was on their second call that Karl revealed an additional surprise: in his genealogical research, he had found he had a half sister, also conceived at the Yale Fertility Clinic.
Frank not only had a son he didn’t know he had; there was a “new” daughter, too. Her name was Kama Einhorn, and she is an Emmy Award-winning TV producer and children’s book writer who lives in Brooklyn.
The search for “our guy”
It turned out that Karl had first found Kama and they had begun getting to know each other as new half-siblings, but she had feared rejection from her biological father. Karl had agreed to make the first contact and find out the reaction of the man Karl and Kama had come to call “our guy.”
“Our guy” — Frank — was getting used to the idea that he now had five children instead of three, and was as receptive and positive to the news of his new daughter as he had been to his new son.
After Karl reported back to Kama that “our guy” would definitely want to hear from her, she sent her own letter. Part of it read:
Please know I have no legal or financial motivations in writing. I have been blessed with all the love, connection, fulfillment, and support I need. Also, as you may already know, no other half siblings come up on 23andMe, Ancestry.com, or the Donor Sibling Registry. So, I don’t know how many times you donated, but I don’t think you have to worry about a line of us at your door today…
I’m a children’s book author and a full-time staff writer for Sesame Street (which first aired Nov. 1969!)… I grew up in Old Saybrook, Connecticut, I went to Brandeis University and have a MA in literacy education from UC Berkeley. I am an involved supporter of animal welfare, wildlife conservation, and humane education. At Sesame Street I develop and write outreach campaigns that serve vulnerable children and their families; much of my work focuses on children’s physical and mental wellness.
Beyond the initial shock of my beloved Dad not being my biological father, this experience has been extremely positive for us both. It has expanded my view of human interconnectedness in a way I could not have ever imagined. That became even more profoundly the case when I read about your family’s history in Germany. This all feels like a miracle…
And now my reflection in the mirror is different from the one I’d seen before. Connecting with you, expressing my gratitude, and asking you a few questions would be a very important and exciting moment in my life, a life I am grateful for every day!
Face to face
There had been letters, phone calls and Zoom calls. It was time to meet in person.
Frank and Julie invited Kama, Karl, and Karl’s wife and children to meet at the Boehms’ Boca Raton condo for a few days, which they did in September 2019.
“The weekend was truly wonderful. We walked the beach, sat by the pool, enjoyed meals together and talked, talked and talked.”
Kama arrived on Friday, a day before Karl and his family. She wrote of the meeting in a first person story published in the New York Times in October 2021:
“Well, here you are,” he said, arms out. In this weirdest hug of my life, my body hummed and tingled.
“Here I am,” I said. “And here you are.”
“Well, here we are then,” he said.
In her account in the New York Times, (which Frank, with fatherly pride, pointed out has been read millions of times), Kama remembered something Frank had said shortly after they met. He stepped back, studied her for a moment, and said, “I haven’t seen my mother’s face in decades.”
When Karl arrived the next day, as a light touch in what could be a nervous situation, he showed up carrying a balloon emblazoned, “It’s a Boy!” He had looked for an “It’s a Girl!” balloon for Kama, but the store didn’t have one, so he settled for a pink balloon reading, not quite accurately, “Welcome little one.”
“The weekend was truly wonderful,” Frank recalled. “We walked the beach, sat by the pool, enjoyed meals together and talked, talked and talked.
“There was so much all of us wanted to share about each other and our families. Our similarities were undeniable.”
Love, instant and evolving
The story doesn’t end on that Florida beach, of course. The siblings and half-siblings have continued to get to know each other, and, in various combinations, have all met.
“They look alike,” Frank says, with a touch of wonder in his voice. “They’re interested in each other.”
What hasn’t happened yet is all five have not been together at the same time with Frank and Julie. That was supposed to happen last year for Frank’s 80th birthday, but COVID travel restrictions prevented that from occurring and everybody had to settle for celebrating together via Zoom.
Maybe they can all be together soon, Frank says with hope.
On Father’s Day, Frank will hear from five children, all of whom he is fiercely proud of, and he couldn’t be happier about that.
“I think there are two kinds of love,” he said. “One is instant, like when you hold your newborn baby in your arms.
“The other kind of is evolved love,” he added — like that of husbands and wives for each other, or even close friends. The kind of love that requires some time, experience, commitment and communication.
Frank says he’s discovering that’s the kind of love he has for Karl and Kama.
“What normally would have been instant love is building into evolved love,” he said.
On Father’s Day, Frank will hear from five children, all of whom he is fiercely proud of, and he couldn’t be happier about that.
“I’ve always looked forward to Father’s Day,” he said. “I love my children and they love me.
“I once had three children and nine grandchildren,” he said. “Now, I have five children and 11 grandchildren. Where all this is going, I cannot be certain. What I do know, is that each my children, along with all their children, are finding joy with each other, and for now, that seems to be enough.”
Photos courtesy Boehm family.
