Lindsey Graham (19:51)
During her time in Nashville in late 1948, Gertrude Gibbs can't stop thinking about the nurse and the two babies she saw at the airport in Memphis. Something about the entire situation just didn't seem right to her. It's strange enough that the babies were being flown out of state, but the nurse struck Gibbs as odd too. She didn't seem to even know the age of the children in her care. If she'd been thinking more quickly, Gibbs might have been able to find out which agency the woman worked for. As things stand, all she has to go on is the license plate of the limousine that picked the nurse up from the airport. But Gibbs is a determined woman, especially when it comes to the welfare of children. She's mother to now 11 year old twins, and just last year she spent six weeks in Europe volunteering at a home for children orphaned during the war. So as soon as she returns home from Nashville, she sets to work. In the end, it only takes a few phone calls to find the answers she's looking for. The black limousine belongs to Georgia Tann, executive secretary of the Tennessee Children's Home Society. Armed with that information, Gibbs calls reporters she knows at the Commercial Appeal newspaper, and suddenly the story is in the local press. Gibbs and two of her friends are listed as prominent Memphis women who have concerns about the policies of the TCHs and are asking if more regulation is needed for adoption in Tennessee. Georgia Tann herself is approached for comment, but she insists that the babies Gibbs saw were twins, that they were at least six weeks old and that their new home had been thoroughly vetted. But in private, away from the press, Tann is furious. Complaints about the TCHs are usually kept out of the newspapers, but here is Gibbs and two other well connected women directly questioning Tann in print. This is not something she intends to take lying down. So Tan summons Abe Waldauer to a meeting at Poplar Avenue. When he arrives, Tan is overseeing the decoration of the home's Christmas tree. Two of the staff perch on ladders while Tan jabs at the branches with her walking stick, growling out orders to move an ornament here or a light there. Like almost everything else in the house, the tree is just for show. It stands in a large front window window where it's impossible to miss from the street. Finally satisfied with the decorations, Tan then leads Waldauer into a small parlor off the hall. She's moving more slowly these days. It's been over three years since Tan was diagnosed with uterine cancer, and the morphine isn't helping her pain like it used to. Still, she has enough strength to fling yesterday's copy of the Commercial Appeal at Waldauer as he sits down. Waldauer's already seen the newspaper article. Article. When he skims it again, he tells Tan that she did a good job rebutting the arguments made by Gertrude Gibbs and the others. But that's not enough for Tan. These society women and their pet reporter have attacked her in front of the entire city. They're pushing a dangerous agenda, trying to get new adoption laws on the books to tighten up restrictions. So Tann tells Waldauer he needs to fix this. It's his job as her attorney and as a member of the TCH board of directors. He must protect them. But Waldauer just sighs. He doesn't like disappointing his longtime client. But what Tan is requesting might not be possible anymore. With a new governor taking office in January, most of their useful contacts are about to lose their jobs. Still, Waldauer says he'll see what he can do. They have their own friends in the local press, and he'll make sure their side of the story gets a fair hearing as well. But in the meantime, Waldauer suggests that Tann concentrate on making her operation a little less conspicuous. Tann thinks for a moment and nods. She can lie low for a while, but she has no intention of stopping. In early 1949, Georgia Tann begins moving children through Memphis Municipal Airport. In the middle of the night, babies headed for Los Angeles are booked onto 3am flights and those bound for New York take off at 5. Tann hopes these early flights will help her avoid any more unwanted attention. Gertrude Gibbs and the other women haven't gone back to the press since they made their complaints in December. Abe Waldauer's rapid and effective counterattack in the newspapers essentially accused the women of exaggerating, citing figures that showed that just 15% of TCH adoptions went out of state. Since then, nothing has been heard from Gibbs or the other women and Tann feels confident she's seen off another threat. But she is wrong. As a result of the publicity stirred up by Gertrude Gibbs, other people start to complain to the state government about the TCHs. Many are would be parents who say they have been rejected by Tann's organization or been left to languish on waiting lists for years. And despite the figures quoted by Abe Waldauer, it seems that actually only a small fraction of the children adopted out by tchs. The or finding new homes in Tennessee. There have been whispers about Georgia Tann for years while her friend Edward Boss Crump ran things that didn't matter so much. Any complaints about the TCHs were brushed aside. And it was apparently in no one's interest to look too closely at where Tann found all her children, where they ended up or how she accumulated her money. But the new governor, Gordon Browning, has no interest in protecting Tanner. She's part of a political machine he wants to destroy. He's also aware that the state provides the Tennessee Children's home society with $15,000 in funding every year. And he wants to know exactly what that money is supporting. So in early September 1950, the governor orders one of his closest allies, attorney Robert Taylor, to look into the various allegations and rumors. The 35 year old Taylor quickly realizes it won't be be a straightforward investigation. He's stonewalled by Tann's employees at Poplar Avenue and can only get limited information out of the courts. Taylor can see from public records that the TCHS has been handling plenty of adoptions. But where all the children end up is a mystery. Once an adoption is approved by a judge, all the details about it are sent to Nashville and placed in confidential files that Taylor can't access. But one day he gets a lucky break. While examining the records From Dyer County, 70 miles north of Memphis, Taylor discovers a batch of TCHS adoption papers that have been completed but not yet been sent to Nashville. These list the names and addresses of the adoptive families and over 90% of them are in Los Angeles or New York. This suggests that Georgia Tann is sending far more children out of state than she's previously led on. So now Taylor wants to find out if she's been doing it at a profit. So, accompanied by Earl Morgan from the State Welfare Department, Taylor stakes out the Memphis airport. He hopes to intercept a TCHS employee on one of the early morning flights to Los Angeles or New York. Then he figures he'll be able to ask them some questions directly. It doesn't take long. After just a few nights of waiting, they spot a woman with three infants in a wicker basket boarding a plane to la. Taylor and Morgan try to follow her, but. But they don't have tickets and it's a full flight. Taylor refuses to let his quarry escape now, though. So he and Morgan board the next plane to California and track the TCHS employee to a room at the Biltmore Hotel in downtown Los Angeles. The hotel room door cracks open an inch or two and a middle aged woman peers out. Yes? Can I help you? Yeah, are you Mrs. Oliver Alma Walton? I am. My name's Robert Taylor. This is my colleague, Mr. Earl Morgan. We'd like to ask you a few questions. Are you police officers? I'm an attorney working for Governor Brown's office. Mr. Morgan is from the State Welfare Department. The two men pull out identification cards. It's about your employer, the Tennessee Children's Home Society. Mind if we talk inside? Walton shoots a nervous glance over her shoulder. Now's not really a good time, I'm afraid. Mrs. Perhaps later this evening or. Ma' am, do you have some infants with you in there? I'm not meant to talk to people about our work. And who told you that, Ms. Tan? Walton hesitates for a moment and then gives a slight nod. Mrs. Walton, we know what's going on. Those babies are being sold to new families here in California, aren't they? Oh, no, it's not like that. They're being adopted. It's all perfectly above board. Then why are you sneaking them out of Memphis? And middle of the night, Walton falls silent. Then tears start to well up in her eyes. I knew this was bound to happen sooner or later. Have you delivered any of the children yet, Mrs. Walton? Just one. To a delightful couple. And did they give you anything in return? No. No money, no checks. Well, I. I don't handle that. It's all sent to Memphis, to the tchs, To a post office box. Taylor's jaw tightens and he shoots a glance at Morgan. They're finally getting somewhere. Do you know how much they had to pay I never see any of the money. I want you to know that it's Ms. Tan who handles all the financial matters. I don't get a cent. How much? Mrs. Walton? $350. For delivery. For delivery? They have to pay other fees as well. Walton nods and Taylor leans forward. Mrs. Walton, the state of Tennessee charges $7 for adoption papers. So how come these folks are paying hundreds more? Where does all the money go? Maybe you should come in. I think that's a good idea. We have a lot to talk about. Inside the hotel room, Walton tells Taylor and Morgan everything she knows about the baby she's transported to California and New York. About the hundreds of dollars that adoptive parents pay in checks made out to Georgia Tann. Robert Taylor now has evidence. Now it's time to go back to Memphis and finally put an end to Tennessee's black market baby ring. Hi, everyone, it's Nicole Wallace from msnbc. Listen to my new podcast called the Best People. I get to speak to some of the smartest, funniest and wisest people I have ever encountered. People like Kara Swisher, Rachel Maddow, Doc Rivers, Jason Bateman, Jeff Daniels, and Sarah Jessica Parker. They'll often say, hey, Carrie. You know, they'll call me Carrie. And that's all right, too. The Best People with Nicole Wallace. New episodes drop Mondays. Listen now, wherever you get your podcasts. Other People's Problems was the first podcast to take you inside real life therapy sessions. I'm Dr. Hilary McBride and again we're doing something new. The ketamine really broke down a lot of my barriers. This work has this sort of immediate transformational effect. Therapy using psychedelics is the new frontier in mental health. Come along for the trip. Other People's Problems, Season 5, available now. When attorney Robert Taylor returns to Tennessee from California, things move quickly. Now he has proof that Georgia Tann has been charging out of state couples enormous fees to adopt. He goes straight to the governor. On September 11, 1950, Gordon Browning calls a late night press conference to announce an official investigation into the activities of the Tennessee Children's Home Society. When the news breaks, all eyes turn to Georgia Tann. Everyone is eager to hear her side of the story. But the 59 year old isn't even aware of what's going on. By this point, Tann is now confined to her bed at home on Stonewall street in Memphis, where she slips in and out of consciousness. It's the early hours of September 15th when Tann's final moments come. Ann Atwood, her partner of 30 years, is. Is at her bedside, holding her hand, Atwood listens to Tan's slow and shallow breathing. Around the room, the shelves are full of framed signed photographs of some of Tann's famous clients, like the Hollywood stars June Allison, Dick Powell and Joan Crawford. There are also get well cards, including one from President Truman himself. Atwood feels tears well up as she thinks about all the lives Tan has touched. She doesn't know that the autographs of the photos are forged and that the greeting cards were written out by Tan's employees on her orders. And Atwood doesn't think about the awful things they're saying about Tan in the papers. Instead, she focuses on the happy life they've had together. Their secret romance, the family they've raised, and the hundreds of orphans and neglected children Tan has rescued. The next morning, around 4am Georgia Tann breathes her last breath. Neither Atwood nor her doctors told her she was being investigated. That would only have upset her. It would have been cruel. Even with the woman at the center of the scandal now dead, attorney Robert Taylor continues his investigation into the Tennessee Children's Home Society. He's convinced that Georgia Tann had accomplices, and he wants them to face justice. But he's operating on a tight budget and only has limited access to crucial documents and court transcripts. So he pleads for more money and support from his superiors. But while he still has his hands tied, Tann's old attorney, Abe Waldauer, moves quickly to take advantage. Under the COVID of darkness, Waldauer and an associate drive to the TCHS home on Poplar Avenue. They remove boxes upon boxes of documents. Learning of this, Taylor immediately petitions a court in Memphis demanding an injunction against the TCHs, preventing it from tampering with any files and granting him access to all documents relevant to his case. But the court is slow to act. Georgia Tann is already gone. And few see the urgency in Taylor's investigation. It takes full two months for a judge to order Waldauer to turn the files over. And by that time, the who knows what was destroyed? To Taylor's frustration, it seems that Tann and her accomplices are going to escape justice. But then, a few months into his investigation, Taylor gets a stroke of good luck and Tann's most important collaborator walks right into his hands. On November 9, 1950, Taylor goes to the Memphis Juvenile Court to see Judge Camille Kelly. Kelly is a prominent figure in the city. She's presided over its juvenile court for 30 years and has published several books about her experiences behind the bench. But during his investigation. Taylor has heard testimony that Kelly played a key role in Tan's operation, and he's come to the courthouse today to confront her with what he's learned. Taylor waits for a moment before he hears the judge call out. Enter. Good afternoon, you, Honor. Mr. Taylor. Please have a seat. The 71 year old Kelly is draped in her usual string of pearls and has a large orchid pinned to her dress. Taylor sits across from her. I appreciate you seeing me on short notice, your honor. Oh, no problem at all. But as I said, I'm afraid I don't have long. I'm doing court. I understand. I gather you want to speak to me about Ms. Tan. Well, yes and no. You know, I still can't believe she was capable of all the terrible things they're saying. And she's not here to defend herself. As a judge, I find that deeply unfair. Well, I wish she could answer for her crimes as well, your honor. But while Ms. Tan has been the chief focus of my investigation these past few months, it's become increasingly clear to me that she didn't operate alone. She had accomplices. I see. Taylor removes a portable tape recorder from his briefcase and sets it on the desk. Do you intend to record our conversation, Mr. Taylor? Actually, your honor, I want you to hear something. This is a recording of an interview I conducted yesterday with May Hindman. She worked for the TCHS and she was eager to share her experiences there with me. As it happened, though, during our conversation, Ms. Hinman received a phone call from you, your honor. And as I was already recording the interview, it picked up your conversation as well. Taylor reaches out and starts the recording. Now, dear, I'd like to ask you not to say anything to these things investigators about my dealings with Ms. Tan. A Hollywood producer is coming to town. They want to make a movie about my life. Can you imagine? But how would it look if they thought I was mixed up in all this adoption mess? Judge Kelly's smile thins out. Taylor breaks the silence first. There's more on the tape. But you already know that, don't you? What's your game? You can't put Georgia behind bars, so you're coming after me. Well, you'll need more evidence than that, Mr. Taylor. Well, to convict you in a court of law, yes, but in the court of public opinion, if this were to somehow make it into the newspapers. Well, I see. What is it you want? Your resignation. If you agree to step down from the bench, I give you my word that I will keep your name out of this investigation. And the newspapers. This is blackmail, you know? Call it a chance to do the right thing. Within 24 hours of her meeting with Robert Taylor, Judge Camille Kelly resigns. She is sent off with a glamorous retirement party and a declaration of an official Judge Camille Kelly day in honor of her long service. No one will know the role she played in Georgia Tann's scheme for decades to come. In December 1950, the TCH home on Poplar Avenue is closed for good. But while the authorities have ensured that no more children will suffer under its roof, elsewhere, the system that protected Georgia Tann in life continues to shield her in death. Frustrated by the limitations on his investigation, Robert Taylor proposes a bill to Tennessee lawmakers that will grant him more authority and resources. But the legislation goes nowhere. And instead, soon after, Tennessee passes a different law legalizing all the adoptions Tann oversaw through the tchs. It seems there are simply too many politicians, judges, and wealthy families who use Tann's services. And none of them has any interest in snooping attorneys. The scandal is quietly buried. Eventually, a small proportion of the money Tann made in her scheme is recovered from her estate. But once that legal action concludes in 1954, the story of Georgia Tann seems to end with it. Eventually, people lose interest in the woman who stole babies. Years pass, and and despite the never ending heartache of the families who were victimized by her, Georgia Tann is all but forgotten. In the decades that followed this scandal, America's adoption industry continued to evolve. And many of the procedures and policies that Georgia Tann promoted became standard practice across the country. Tann always said that adoption records should be inaccessible, even to the people involved. Evolved, and by the 1960s, most adoption files in America were sealed by law. Tann claimed this was for the sake of the adoptive families, to protect them from any birth parents who changed their minds. But it was a policy that suited Tann as well. With the truth about the children's origins hidden, there was less of a chance of anyone finding out exactly what Tann was up to. It was not until decades later that things began to change. In 1991, a magazine article about Tann drew renewed attention to her case. High profile TV shows like 60 Minutes and Oprah picked up on the story. And as more people heard about what had happened in Memphis, some adoptees finally knew where to start looking for their lost families. There were some joyful reunions after lifetimes spent apart, but for most, it was far too late. Adopted children died without ever knowing where they came from. Birth parents died without ever finding out what happened to their babies. Some of the children Tann stole eventually built happy lives. Others never got that chance. At least 19 children died at the TCHS home on Poplar Avenue. They were buried in a Memphis cemetery, unmarked and forgotten until 2015, when a campaign raised $13,000 to put up a permanent memorial to honor the children who died under the cold, hard hand of the Tennessee Children's Home Society. But those buried beneath this memorial represent just a fraction of Georgia Tann's victims. Their true number will never be known. Their names are lost and their fates are forgotten after their lives were destroyed by the greed of a single woman From Wondery this is Episode Episode 4 of the Woman who Sold Babies for American Scandal. In our next episode I speak with journalist TJ Raphael, host of the upcoming Wondery podcast Liberty Lost about a modern day adoption home as some have called a baby snatch operation. Rafael joins me to talk about the home, its connection to Georgia Tann and its evangelical roots. If you're enjoying American scandal, you can unlock exclusive seasons on Wonder plus, binge new season first and listen completely ad free when you join Wondery plus in the Wondery app, Apple Podcasts or Spotify. And before you go, tell us about yourself by filling out a survey@wondery.com survey if you'd like to learn more about Georgia Tann and the Tennessee Children's Home Society, we recommend the book the Baby Thief by Barbara Bazance Raymond, Babies for Sale by Linda Tollett Austin and Before and after by Judy Christie and Lisa Wingate. This episode contains reenactments and dramatized details. And while in most cases we can't know exactly what was said, all our dramatizations are based on historical research. American Scandal is hosted, edited and executive produced by me, Lindsey Graham for Airship. Audio editing by Christian Peraga Sound design by Gabriel Gould Supervising Sound designer is Matthew Filler Music by Thrum. This episode is written and researched by Joel Callum, Fact Checking by Alyssa Jung Perry Managing Producer Emily Byrd Development by Stephanie Jens Senior producers are Andy Beckerman and Andy Herman. Executive producers are William Simpson for Airship, Jenny Lauer Beckman Marshall Louie and Aaron o' Flaherty for Wondering. Hello.