Rare News Desk
They recognized him immediately.
Videos by Rare
“It’s his eyes, his beautiful blue eyes,” said Betty Jean Musselman, tears spilling from her own, as she caught the first glimpse Thursday of the baby brother she hadn’t seen in 60 years.
Their older sister, Linda McCloskey, saw the shape of her own tearful face reflected in that of Robert Barwick, the baby brother she last saw in 1955.
Barwick hugged his big sisters as if he’d never let them go again.
“We never forgot you, we never stopped looking for you,” said McCloskey, weeping.
The crowd waiting for him inside Ragtops Motorcars, where Barwick works as a handyman, broke into applause. His employer organized a party for Barwick where he could meet the siblings who had searched for him for nearly 50 years.
Barwick couldn’t hear the clapping, but there was no missing the joy of the moment.
Barwick, who was born deaf, watched the flying fingers of his daughter, Jessica Reiling, as she translated their words into sign language.
Beaming, Barwick signed back: “Right on, right on.”
“It’s his favorite expression,” Reiling said, with a laugh.
She continued translating for her father, “I’m not alone anymore. I have a new family.”
The last time the sisters saw their brother, Linda was 11, Betty Jean was 6 and Robert was 1. They were removed from their alcoholic mother in South Carolina and sent to live with different relatives.
“I held you in my arms the last time we were together,” McCloskey said. “You had such beautiful blonde hair. What happened to that hair?”
Robert grins as he removes his blue ball cap to reveal a head of thin, gray hair.
Sixty years happened. Sixty lost years.
The two sisters reconnected as adults, but no one in the family knew where Robert had been sent.
On a whim, the sisters posted a picture of themselves on Facebook on April 19, with a sign that said they were searching for their brother, Robert Loyal Barwick.
Their note went viral.
A forensic historian from North Carolina who saw the posting decided to look into the case. He contacted West Palm Beach police, convinced he had located Barwick. A police department records clerk found Barwick living in the Bluegrass Mobile Home Park in West Palm Beach. He’s lived in the city since 1974.
At first, Barwick was skeptical. The two aunts who raised him in Clewiston never said a word about sisters. They’re actually his half-sisters. McCloskey said all three siblings have different fathers.
Barwick wasn’t convinced of the truth of the story until the historian verified his mother’s name: Dorothy.
Thursday afternoon, Barwick met nine new family members. Nine more are waiting up north to meet him.
McCloskey and her daughter, Amy Sciorri, drove down from Pennsylvania. They picked up Musselman in Myrtle Beach. Musselman’s daughter came down from Melbourne with her two children.
Barwick arrived with his two children, Jessica and Jarred, an attorney who works for a federal judge in Miami. A host of his friends arrived.
Introductions were chaotic, dependent on Reiling and Barwick’s signing speed.
“Do we have 15 or is it 16 family members here?” one asked.
They tried to figure out who were first and who were second cousins, who the new aunts and uncles were.
“It’s so confusing,” said Adelina Gil, 8, Barwick’s granddaughter. “I’m afraid I’ll never remember all their names.”
Cousins compared hair color and eyes.
Both Linda and Robert’s daughters have blue eyes, the color of the summer ocean.
They decided there’s a familial gene for curly hair.
Within minutes, the crowd sounded like family.
“I’m mad we didn’t know you earlier, so we could have little cousins to pick on,” said Sciotti to Reiling.
An overwhelmed Barwick kept slapping his hand over his heart to express his joy.
“I’m so happy for my dad,” said Jerrod. “He’s found people connected to him he never knew existed. It’s beautiful.”
Barwick draped an arm around each of his newly discovered sisters and gave them a brotherly smooch on their cheeks.
“He didn’t know he was loved; I can’t get over that,” said Musselman, looking for another tissue. “But that’s the past. We’ve got the future now.”
Linda looked at her brother while she spoke to Reiling, who signed her words.
“I just want him to know we did not abandon him. We were all lost. But now we’re all found.”
