The Gibson Family Newsletter


Including the Pratt and Glore Families

Issue #6 December 12, 1997

Gena Gibson Davis, Editor


In the Spirit of our upcoming Gibson Reunion, Jeanette Johnson has sent this newspaper article which appeared in the Poplar Bluff, MO, Daily American Republic, June 26, 1990.

Together Again: Area Family Reunited After Years Apart
by John Holloway, DAR Staff Writer
contributed by Jeanette Johnson

Every night for the past 31 years Helen Coram dreamed she would be reunited with all of her children someday. Every night she had vivid recollections of her 11 sons and daughters growing up at their Ripley County home.

Her dream came true on Sunday.

Sunday is when Helen Coram met the last of her children—Judy Parker—after 31 years of uncertainty, praying and trying to track them down. Sunday is the day the family was reunited.

Ever since a cold, winter day in 1959 when a police car pulled up to their farm near Doniphan and the state separated the family, the Coram children have—on by one—found their way back to their mother.

It is an incredible story that stretches from the farmland of Ripley County to Texas, Florida and California. At one point, Helen Coram even worked beside one of her daughters at Van Dover’s Cafe in South Poplar Bluff without knowing the true identity of her coworker.

Judy Parker, 39 of San Diego, remembers the winter day when her father, Albert Coram, crippled and on crutches, walked with her to the Ripley County Courthouse in Doniphan. Parker, who was 8, thought it was a real treat to be able to go inside the red brick building; in the past she only had been allowed to play in the square outside.

Once inside, her father went to a room with two men. She believes her father was asking for money—her parents had trouble caring for the 11 children—but the end result was far worse than any situation the family had faced before. Looking back over the years, the children think their father—who died in 1979—might have signed an agreement giving up custody of his kids.

“We didn’t have food, we didn’t have heat, we were out fending for ourselves,” Parker recalled Monday. “I guess the state felt that we weren’t properly cared for.”

Albert and Helen Coram were poor, but they worked hard to take care of their children. To help fill empty bellies, Helen would collect roots, berries and mushrooms in the woods near the home to feed the family.

And although they often went barefoot because shoes cost money, brother Richard Coram, 42, said the rock bruises were the worst thing he had to suffer. No one in the family was hurting for lack of love, he said.

Their circumstance might have seemed bleak to the welfare officials, said Larry Coram, 38, but “we were happy.”

The children slept in one bed, five at one end and four at the other. “Sometimes Larry and I would curl up on the floor,” Parker said.

Parker, who now lives in San Diego, said she is angry that the state split up the family and caused them so much anguish. “You can look at it two ways,” said Richard Coram who now lives with his family in San Antonio, Texas.

But for whatever reason the men in the police car came for the children one day. It was just before Christmas and Helen Coram was hanging laundry on a line outside the house. It was cold and sometimes her fingers would crack and bleed, but that never hurt so much as when they took her kids.

The men said they had to take the children. They said they had papers to do so. And then after a hurried round of good-byes they were gone—to the Edgewood Children’s Home in Poplar Bluff.

“All I wanted to do was kiss my mother goodbye,” Parker said. And she remembers her mother telling her, “You don’t have to, I’ll come see you in a few days.”

That was nearly 31 years ago.

Helen Coram did come by the home to see her children—but she said she was turned away each time. When Christmas came, she brought presents to the kids and was told the gifts would not be allowed, she said.

From that point on, Parker said, the Coram kids were adopted out of the home one-by-one. Gradually they lost touch with one another.

“The woman came in, dressed up my little sister and told us she was just going shopping,” Parker said, “She said my sister would be back in a little while.” Her sister, Debbie, never did come back.

Niether did her other two sisters and one brother as they too were dressed up and adopted out of the home, a different story given each time, Parker said.

Only nine of the children, who ranged in age from 1 to 15, were taken out of the home. The oldest child, Albert Coram, who is now 49 and living in Kennett, was working on an uncle’s farm. The oldest girl, two years younger than Albert, was married and living away from the family already. She is Cletus Bushell who now lives in Broseley.

However, the rest of the nine were taken away, with the oldest five eventually taken to the Missouri Baptist Children’s Home in the St. Louis area. From the home in St. Louis the rest of the children went their separate ways.

Edna Coram, who is now 46, married out of the children’s home, but happened to move across the street from an uncle in Florida. She got back in touch with the family in 1962 and now lives at Lake Wappapello.

Larry Coram ran away from several foster homes. He eventually found his mother in 1963, and came back to live. He is married and now farms in Oran, outside of Cape Girardeau.

The rest of the children came back one by one, Elvis Coram is now 44 and living in Sikeston. Carol, 36, lives in West Hollywood, California. She was one of the two children who did not attend Sunday’s reunion. Norma LaBrier, 36, lives in Poplar Bluff, as does son Terry Piatt, 32. The youngest daughter, who was named Debbie and only 1 year old at the time of the separation, lives in Poplar Bluff.

Helen Coram says Debbie, who’s name was changed by her foster family, comes to visit occasionally, but has strong ties to her adoptive parents that she does not want to break.

But perhaps Carol’s homecoming story is th