Three words bring a long-lost brother home

“I am Paul.”

These three words spoken to 71-year-old Gig Harbor resident Gail Stromstad changed her life. It meant that after years of searching, she had finally found her long-lost half-brother — or rather, he found her.

“I’m not the oldest anymore, I’m the middle child,” Gail said happily.

It’s a tale that involves a whirlwind wartime marriage, Pearl Harbor, a hasty adoption, sealed records and a call from the blue.

Gail’s father, Reo Knudson, was married and divorced before he met and married Gail’s mother. A Navy sailor, he married a woman he had known for three weeks before being shipped out to Hawaii just before World War II.

“This was not uncommon at this time,” Gail said. War was on the horizon, and hasty marriages happened.

Then came the Dec. 7, 1941 attack on Pearl Harbor.

Reo Knudson was a boatswain’s mate on the battleship USS Tennessee, which was hit by two Japanese bombs and erupted in flames. He jumped from deck to deck on the burning ship — his last jump through flaming oil into the water. Badly injured, he was hospitalized for seven months. While recovering, he learned from a letter that his wife was pregnant. He wrote back many times, but never got a response.

When Knudson recovered from his injuries he returned immediately to California, but his wife was nowhere to be found. He discovered that she went to the local hospital to have the baby, but told the staff she was not married, nor did she know who was the father of her son.

The baby was named Paul and given up for adoption.

Knudson went to court and was granted a divorce for abandonment. He was told he could have custody of Paul if his parents would watch over the baby for a month until he was discharged from the Navy.

His parents refused to do so. Gail said her father did not have a good relationship with his mother, and the refusal to watch Paul for a month was the nail in the coffin for their relationship.

“She didn’t care for my father unless he brought her a bottle of alcohol,” Gail said.

Paul was given to another family through a sealed adoption. Knudson was not allowed to meet or see his son, and only knew his name was Paul.

Knudson returned to the Tennessee and served on the battleship — repaired and refitted in Bremerton — during the rest of the war. Three days after his discharge in 1946, he met the woman who was to become Gail’s mother. He worked as a tailor in Fargo, then as a Yellow Pages salesman in Beaverton, Ore., before moving to Los Angeles, where he owned a water-softener company. He died in 1972,

In his second marriage, Knudson had two children: Gail, the oldest, and Mitch. Through conversations she heard over the years from her parent’s, Gail knew she had a half-brother out there, but knew nothing other than his name was Paul.

“There was a lot of, ‘We don’t discuss that,’ in my house,” she said.

Years passed during which Gail, and her eventual husband, Dan Stromstad, looked through every avenue possible for her long-lost sibling, to no avail. They tried DNA tests, but had no luck.

One day in January of this year, Gail received a phone call from a man who she described as having a kind voice. He asked Gail what she knew of her father, so she told him all she knew, ending with the last bit of information: that his name was Paul.

“I am Paul,” the kind voice said to Gail.

“Because I knew he existed, for some reason at the time I did not find it shocking, I found it to be a gift,” Gail said.

Paul Linnimen, a retired police officer, was able to track down Gail after adoption records were opened up to public in 2014. He found his Dad’s name, then traced a younger aunt to Fargo, ND. She gave him Gail’s phone number.

The three siblings met in person on August 10 for the first time. Gail said immediately it felt as if they had known each other for years. Paul’s voice sounded just like her dad’s, she said.

“My first question when I met him was, ‘have you had a good life?’” Gail said. “And he said that he did.”

“We all just smiled and hugged one another,” Gail recalled. Paul and his wife, Peggy, parked their camper trailer in the Stromstad’s driveway in Wauna and settled in for a visit.

The siblings spent nine days catching up with each other.

“Mostly, we sat and talked,” said Gail.” Sometimes they walked in nearby park.

“We learned a lot about Paul’s growing up and his history as a police officer in Vallejo, California,” she said. “He worked undercover for four years and grew his hair long, with a beard and earing.” Later, he became captain of the SWAT team.

They learned that Paul had been adopted by a couple who owned a cafe in Vallejo. He had a happy childhood, though his adoptive father died when he was just thirteen.

Dan told Paul about his hobby, woodworking. When he learned Paul liked to make pie crust, Dan turned him a rolling pin on his lathe. Later, he made a burl bowl and a pillbox for his new brother-in-law.

Paul and his wife returned to Vallejo after nine days, texting Gail the whole way there.

“When they left, I had a hard time holding back tears,” said Dan.

Gail said she feels extremely blessed to have found Paul, confident they will continue to stay in touch until the end of their lives.