Dennis McNerney was placed in an orphanage in England under the care of the Sisters of Charity when he was only three weeks old after his, then unmarried, mother fled Ireland to give birth to him in secrecy. She would have been 22 at the time. And so it was that he spent the next seven years of his life exclusively under the care of women.

Originally it was thought that he would be placed for adoption but no offers were forthcoming and, in 1955, the young Dennis was one of a group of children selected to go to Australia under the child migration scheme. On arrival, he was placed at Castledare and subsequently transferred to Clontarf.

Dennis remembered a harsh disciplinary regime under the care of the Christian Brothers, but unlike many of the former child migrants, he was given the opportunity of an education and sent to Aquinas College for his schooling.

Despite knowing nothing about his mother, Dennis remembered making preliminary enquiries as to her whereabouts when he was about 13 or 14.

On his file, he discovered the early letters he wrote, and believed they were never sent.

At 17, Dennis left school and the care of the Christian Brothers when he went to work as an office clerk at the Commonwealth Bank. The Brothers provided him with a suitcase, a suit to meet the bank's dress standards and arranged boarding accommodation with an elderly lady who, unfortunately, passed away soon after requiring Dennis to relocate again.

So he went to live with the family of a friend, before transferring with the bank to Bussleton, Australia.

Over the years, he worked long and hard at the bank and his efforts were recognized when he rose to the position of manager, in which capacity he worked for many years.

Marrying French-born Nicolle in 1980, he resolved to renew his efforts to track down his mother, especially as he and his new bride were planning a trip to Europe to visit her family.

He made contact with Father Hudsons Homes in England (where he had spent his early years under the care of nuns) and was eventually able to make contact via a local priest.

Contact estalished, the instructions were that they were to meet in secret at the Presbytery.

But, after 33 years, "it was like meeting a stranger. My wife gave my mother a kiss on the cheek and my mother was apologetic about having given me up. I just said it was water under the bridge."

Dennis maintained contact with his mother over the next 25 years and visited England a couple more times after his own two sons were born.

But his mother inssited they always meet in secret because she had told neither her then husband nor her other children of his existence. Nor was he allowed to contact her at home or leave a message on her answer phone in case the secret was revealed.
r n"We just did touristy things together."

In conversations with his mother, Dennis was aware that he had a large number of brothers and sisters, but they continued to remain unaware of him.

He was able to resolve the secrecy through the UK based Australian Child Migrant Project.

When his mother's husband (not Dennis' father) died in 2003, the prospects looked more promising as there was one less person who needed to be kept in the dark.

Eventually Joan Kerry of the Australian Child Migrant Project contacted Dennis' mother and asked her which of her children it would be best to broach the subject of the existence of their brother in Australia. Joan then sent a letter to one of the sisters asking to meet "to discuss a confidential matter concerning the McNerney family." Whereupon, of course, the sister confront her mother wanting to know what it was all about. The truth finally came out.

But there was another shock to follow for the McNerney family. Dennis said, "When my brothers and sisters saw the photos in the profile of me that Joan had supplied, they all rem