Late 1940s

CATHY WEISS

When I was six months old, my birth parents stole me back from the orphanage. My birth mother took me from New York to California because she wanted to find me a sunny home. She did.

I always knew I was adopted. My mom made me feel loved and special and safe. I’ve never known anyone as high-spirited and energetic. She was beautiful, tall, and thin, with bright blue eyes that had fire in them. This fire took her from Waterloo, Iowa, to singing in the USO, to marrying my father, to becoming a prominent citizen in Beverly Hills.

My mom was a passionate woman, a woman filled with aspirations. She was a perfectionist. She wanted everything perfect: her husband, her children, her home. She always dressed and put on her face, even if she was just staying home. She had her standards and expectations, and for that I’m glad. I learned to always try my best and not be ordinary. She hated ordinary. And so we all found our path out of ordinary.