Not Forgetting Tina

“Not Forgetting Tina” is a gritty, eye opening true story that reaches into the turbulent and some what dark existence of two lives connected but separated for 45 years.

 “Not Forgetting Tina”

In October 2009, I stood in front of a run down three family home outside of Boston and hoped the woman I had been searching for all my life, would be inside. This woman, I prayed, was my biological mother, Tina Devogue.  With my heart pounding as I stood there, a man came to the door and asked me who I was. I replied, “If a Tina Devogue lives here, than I am her son.” The man’s response was “you must be William!”

I was young when I was adopted. There was always a burning desire to find my biological ties. In my search this is what I found; after ten months with my biological drug afflicted mother, she had no choice but to put me into an orphanage. At three years old I was adopted into a middle class family and had a challenged childhood. Growing up, finding my mother consumed my thoughts and controlled all aspects of my life. I felt out of place everywhere and with everyone but was brimming with a desire to create something big. I knew I had a purpose but was never given the outlet to which that burning passion could thrive.

After forty five years, I had found my mother. Other than my two wonderful children, I was able to hug the only biological tie I had. Embracing this woman, I immediately felt her pain of what it must have been like to give up her only child. Today, while we sit for hours, she tells of the stories of her past as a folk singer in Greenwich Village in the early 60s. She talks about her past struggles with addiction and her life struggles with jobs and finding a way to keep me.

Now that I have found my mother, my mission, partially-fulfilled continues. Through many obstacles and years of searching, I solved one half of the biological puzzle.

As for the identity of my father, well, all I can say is that after discovering this information in 2010, I spent two years researching and reaching out. All of the information, evidence and actions have led me to Bob Dylan being my father. Bob Dylan and his manager, Jeff Rosen, are aware of me and are hoping I quietly forget about it. But I can’t and I won’t! I want nothing from Bob except the Truth! With all due respect, of course!   

In summary, I have learned in my journey that imagination creates beauty, builds dreams and gives us hope.

William DeVogue