About Morgan's name -
If you read this article by Eric Alterman you will see Alterman accuses Morgan of nefariously changing her name. He implies this was to evade the consequences of her past behavior. The following affidavits, signed under penalty of perjury give you the facts.
Alterman ignored the documents and other evidence provided to him and produced the creative writing exercise for Fund which libeled us. For a long time we did now know what steps we could take to exonerate our reputations and get justice. That begins here. These are the facts about Morgan's name changes.
We will be seeing Alterman in court - and you will be seeing a lot more of him here.
I, Melinda Pillsbury-Foster, swear and affirm that the following facts are correct as reported and not intended to deceive.
I
am the daughter of Dr. and Mrs. Arthur Francis Pillsbury and the
fourth of five children born to them during their marriage, which
lasted until the death of my mother on September 15, 1987.
I changed my name from Mary Linda Pillsbury to Melinda Pillsbury-Foster when my second child was born in 1974. I had been thinking about names and what they mean for a long time. I took the name of two family lines, joined by Dr. Harriet Foster Pillsbury, my great-grandmother.
Father
and Mother were married from the home of his father, Arthur C.
Pillsbury, in Oakland, California on June 24, 1933. Father's degree
was in Civil Engineering from Stanford University. Mother was a
senior, majoring in math at the University of California, Berkeley,
at the time of their marriage.
We were married in Starkville, Mississippi and the marriage certificate is here available.
I
soon afterward became pregnant. At about the same time my husband
began battering me. Later, I realized he was also using drugs. Over
the time we were married his behavior become increasingly abusive. One one occasion I told his mother what was happening to me. She refused to believe me, despite my obvious injuries, broken teeth and bruises.
I
left Richard on January 11, 1967. The immediate cause for leaving was not
the beatings but the threats he made, while drunk, regarding my
unborn child.
Richard said one night after forcing me to have sex with him and battering me, he intended to have sex with our child, if it was a girl. I left him the next day, returning to my parents home. I never saw him again.
At that moment I confronted a choice. Would I put my child at risk of sexual abuse? No. By then I knew Richard well enough to know first he talked and then action followed. In the months we were married I had seen the pattern. If he could think it then it would happen. I thought by leaving him I could absolutely protect the little person who was just beginning to flutter lightly in my belly.
I was wrong.
On July 5th that year I gave birth to a little girl I named Carolyn Anne at St. John's Hospital in Santa Monica, California. My mother was with me during labor.
I
will never forget the first time I held Carolyn. She was astonishingly
pink, with huge eyes. As I held her she opened her eyes, smiled at
me and howled, nearly shocking me out of the bed.
I felt an overwhelming outpouring of love and a desire to ensure her life was wonderful, despite what had happened during my marriage.
I
took my baby home in the special outfit I had made for her. At home
the drawers of the dresser dedicated to her things in my room, were
filled with the layette of baby clothes I had, myself, made for her,
every stitch. They had French seams to ensure nothing scratched and
her special outfits were embroidered with her initials and the little
Creature I drew for her, using the letters of her name.
Little Carolyn's first birth certificate, with the name Carolyn Anne Barteaux, was sealed when my daughter was adopted by my second husband. This was in accordance with California law. I took it out of her baby book and placed it in a file. It disappeared from that location in January, 1998, most likely stolen by my husband, Craig Franklin, and his attorney, Jacqueline Misho. When I realized they had been responsible for this, during the summer of 2009, I filed a criminal complaint.
When I put Carolyn Anne to bed in the crib, which had served every member of the family for a century, I put Red Dog, the stuffed animal I had made for her, where he would be smiling at her when she woke up. Our cat, Pong, a short haired gray cat with white bib and booties, took on the duty of guard cat, curling up at her tiny feet.
I had finished high school, obtaining my diploma, from home.
Richard and his parents decided they did not want to either pay for the birth or even help with the expenses. Richard's parents were Mr. and Mrs. Walter Dean Barteaux. The family owned three corporations, Barco Aviation, Apex, and O-Rings. The family redecorated their home every other year, throwing away the 'old' furniture. Carpets, drapes, curtains, everything changed routinely. Cars alternated. The new one each year would be either a Cadillac or a Continental. Their vacations were long and lavish. Finally they agreed to pay half the hospital bill.
I used the money in my bank account to pay my half share of the hospital expenses. I had earned the money selling candy bars and lemonade, starting when I was six. A half share of the hospital bill was the only money Richard or his family ever spent on my daughter.
It
was not easy knowing my friends were living a very different life.
But my baby needed me. I nursed her until I started college at Santa
Monica College in the autumn. It was soon after then I was served
with legal papers for annulment.
Within a few days I was sitting in the law office of Frank J. Maher, Bar No. 21814, at 1049 Kirkeby Center, 10889 Wilshire Blvd., Los Angeles, CA. It was my first introduction to the reality of divorce. In shock, I learned I could do nothing to deny Richard unmonitored visitation with my daughter. He and his parents had ignored her birth but they could, if they wanted, put her in danger, despite the fact they had paid nothing and refused to pay support.
Mr. Maher could see I was upset. I had just told him about what Richard had done and threatened. He leaned forward and said this to me. “If you want them out of your daughter's life then what you need to do is finish with this divorce, ask for nothing, and get her adopted by a new father as soon as possible.” We were divorced June 24, 1968.
That is exactly what I did.
Dad's
secretaries at UCLA adored Carolyn. We all did. She was a happy
child who was always gentle with Pong, petting the old cat as if she
was made of china. Her favorite characters were the Banana Splits,
and we danced to their records every day until that passion was
replaced by Snoopy.
On May 1, 1971 I married Ronald Edward Kellett, the man who then adopted Little Carolyn the next year. Ron later changed his name to Foster because I decided in my early twenties, after learning more about our family history, the story of Dr. Harriet Foster Pillsbury, my great-grandmother. I became Melinda Pillsbury-Foster, the name is on my passport and my driver's license.
Carolyn continued to live with my parents, who loved her dearly. In 1979, when Little Carolyn was 12 and in the 3rd Grade at Springville School, my parents asked if they could adopt her. After discussing this with Ron we decided to let them. The adoption took place in Tulare County, California, where my parents were living, after Father retired from the position of Director of the Water Resources Center for the University System in 1972.
Money does not matter. What matters is the people we love and knowing they are safe, doing right, and making those they love happy.
Signed, October 21, 2009 
Little Carolyn joined 4-H Club when she was seven years old,. She became very active in the organization, doing a horse project, archeology, cooking, and gardening. Today she is using those skills to put in her own garden and beginning a local program to show others how to grow their own food and raise animals, skills we will all need to learn.
She also learned how to use guns. She learned how to break them down, clean then, how to shoot and how to hunt. Little Carolyn did service projects in the small community of Springville and was elected Historian to the board of her chapter. At the same time Grandpa served as President of the School Board for Springville Elementary School and in all possible positions of the local Lions Club, and as the head of the Springville Public Utility District, carrying out obligation always felt by family members to serve their communities.
It was while Little Carolyn was staying with her Aunt Anne in Santa Barbara that she had a close encounter with Ronald Reagan. Ronnie was an old friend of her Grandpa's and Little Carolyn has received checks from Ronnie for allowing him to talk to Grandpa when she answered the phone at home when Ronnie called. The Story of Raspberry Gumballs and the President was family legend.
When she was 19 and living in Santa Barbara with her Aunt Anne, the owner and manager of the Santa Barbara Orchid Estate. Little Carolyn was working there and going to Santa Barbara City College when she changed her name to Morgan. Not many girls would name themselves after a horse, the Morgan is the only native American Breed, but that is what happened.
Morgan moved to Los Angeles to live with her Mom and brothers and sister in 1986. The family was living in a house in North Hills and the younger kids were growing up.
That year she met John Fund for the second time at the Libertarian Party Convention at the Viscount Hotel. Her Mother and Nancy Neale had done the organizing and Fund was speaking. He sent this thank you note.
The last time Little Carolyn had seen Uncle John he had told her about doing Star Trek Conventions. On that occasion John had given Little Carolyn his business card. Little Carolyn remembered Uncle John and the guy who used to put on Star Trek Conventions.
Next Chapter - Morgan
