The Lankenau Hospital a/k/a My Birthplace

Sometimes my travels don't involve putting on the hiking boots and packing up the backpack. Last year I embarked on a journey of a different color....the search for my biological family. I was born in 1968 in Wynnewood, Pennsylvania at Lankenau Hospital. Lankenau was founded in 1860 as the German Hospital of Philadelphia, and located in North Philadelphia on Morris Street. In 1917 the German Hospital renamed itself Lankenau Hospital after John D. Lankenau, a successful German-born Philadelphia business man who was one of the first supporters and leaders of the Hospital. Ironically, one of my "idols" growing up, Joan Jett, was also born in Lankenau Hospital. But back then she was Joan Larkin, and I'm not sure if she loved rock and roll yet. She has been honored by Philadelphia's Rock and Roll Hall of Fame; not bad for only staying in Philly for about six months! After a few days stay in the hospital, I was adopted and taken to New York. I grew up happily and was provided with a good life but I never felt complete. I need to know where I came from, my roots, who I got my eye color from, the color of my hair, what my heritage was. Now, I know for non-adoptees this may sound strange, but try to place yourself in my shoes, at least for this blog. I did a little research and found out that I was born at Lankenau Hospital. My birth records had been destroyed, I mean, after all it was about 40 odd years ago....so my search came to a standstill. Low and behold, I found myself bored on my 40th birthday and decided to take a ride to Lankenau Hospital. I still do not know, to this day, what I was looking for, or hoping to find, but the urge overcame me and I just got in my car and drove. When I entered the "grounds" of the hospital, I was overtaken with such a strange feeling. I mean, this is the closest I had ever come to knowing anything about my roots. The hospital grounds are breathtaking, the hospital is built on what used to be a golf course. I parked the car and made my way to a security desk, heart pounding all the way.....the guard glanced up at me, and gave me the look. I happily told him that I was born in this very hospital forty years to the day. He smiled and told me that this was the "new wing" and directed me to the older part of the hospital. I parked the car in front of the "older" section of the hospital and hastily got out. Immediately a guard inquired as to why I would be so brazen and park in valet parking, but then he noticed the New York plates and sighed. I explained to him that I was born, forty years to the day, in this very hospital. Immediately he smiled and proceeded to tell everyone, and I mean everyone that "this young lady here was born in this very hospital forty years ago!" I asked him if I could snap a few pictures of myself in front and he proceeded to tell everyone, and I mean everyone, to make way for me....A poor older women, with a cane was trying to get down the stairs and he put his hand up and told her to wait. After my girlfriend quickly snapped some photographs I thanked the guard profusely and we made our way back to New York. And this trip, this very trip, began an incredible journey that continues to this day....