Mother and Child Reunion : A 29-Year Separation Ends for a Pacoima Woman and Her Son

David Dills came home this week to a family he never knew he had.

It was awkward at first. But slowly, Dills--a toddler when his father took him away 29 years ago--has embraced as family the mother he does not remember and the two half brothers and a half sister he had never met.

“It’s strange,” Dills, 30, said Wednesday at the Pacoima home of his mother, Sherry Cowan, 48. “This is my family. I’m surprised how much it is.”

For years, the only family Dills knew was a father who was always on the road and a succession of aunts and uncles. When he was just over a year old, barely able to walk, Dills was taken by his father from Cowan’s house in Syracuse, N.Y.

That was in 1963, and Cowan, only 19 at the time, did not see her red-haired son again for 29 years, despite years of searching.

The search ended Friday, when Cowan flew to Dills’ home in North Augusta, S.C., after she received a call from a friend of Dills’, telling her that her son was alive and wanted to see her.

In the past six days, mother and son have tried to catch up on their lost years.

There is so much to tell. Cowan missed her son’s first day of school and his first date and his high school graduation. And Dills never knew that his mother, whose name he learned only two years ago, prayed often for him and hoped that he was well, wherever he was.

Cowan searched for her son for seven years before giving up in frustration. Her ex-husband moved Dills from house to house, relative to relative, she said. Once, Cowan arrived at a house only 30 minutes after her son had been whisked away.

“I remember being moved around a lot to aunts and uncles, sometimes as often as monthly,” Dills said, recalling his childhood. “I sort of assumed it was because my father was away a lot. But it was to hide me.”

Cowan said she had no legal remedy. There was no law at the time against her husband taking the child, which was considered a family dispute, she said.

Dills’ father, who Dills said is believed to be living in Connecticut, could not be reached for comment.

Dills said he grew up believing his father’s version that his mother left the family and did not love her son. But even after Cowan moved to California, remarried and had three more children--the youngest named David after her missing son--she thought often of Dills.

“You never really forget,” said Cowan, who manages a storage facility in Pacoima. “It kind of takes a piece out of your heart and destroys it. I never believed I would get to see my son.”

It is only by chance that she did.

Two years ago, Dills’ wallet was stolen. When he applied for a new Social Security card, he learned his mother’s maiden name and place of birth--Carthage, N.Y. He made some preliminary calls but had no luck and dropped the quest.

A year later, his mother went to a family wedding in New York state and gave her new address and telephone number to several family members. A short time later, a friend--whom Dills had told about his search for his mother--put an advertisement in a small newspaper in the Carthage area asking for information about Cowan.

A distant cousin saw the ad and connected Dills’ friend with Cowan, and a surprise meeting was arranged. Cowan flew east and met her son. He was not told his mother had been located. The friend told him they were going to the airport so he could apply for a job there.

But when he saw his mother in an airport lounge, he said, “I just knew it was her” without being told, because of their resemblance.

He accompanied his mother and younger half brother David back to Los Angeles for a weeklong visit. During his stay, Dills said, he is discovering he is much like his new family--especially his youngest half brother.

Both eat the same cereal--Frosted Mini Wheats--like the same music--alternative rock a la KROQ-FM--and are avid “Star Trek” fans. When actor Walter Koenig--who portrayed Pavel Chekov in the original TV series and films--was spotted at the airport on the trip home, both men asked for autographs.

“I don’t feel like a big brother as much as I do a peer,” Dills said.