In the darkness of late-night Sept. 15, 1947, in little Gainesville, Ga., a midwife handed 13-year-old Barbara Reeves her baby sister.
“She was in a receiving blanket, and she was the prettiest little thing I ever saw,” recalled Barbara. “I can see her right now.”
Barbara and her older sister, Louise, named the girl that night as their alcoholic mother recovered from childbirth.
They called her Barri Lynn Reeves, from names they liked, and - except for a few fleeting glances over the next couple of years - they never saw her again.