It’s a moment many parents know well: holding your newborn, searching their tiny features for a glimpse of yourself, or perhaps, for a connection to a past you’ve never known. For Carol Briggs, that moment in December 1972, with her son Jon Kenneth Briggs, was tinged with a profound sense of finality. A 16-year-old high schooler, facing an unexpected pregnancy, she made the difficult decision to place her baby for adoption, believing it was the best path for him.
She remembers the snowstorm that week in Pittsburgh, the sledding, the quick labor, and then the quiet signing of papers. Her parents, supportive but perhaps a little overwhelmed themselves, helped her navigate the immediate aftermath. Back in Ohio, resuming her life as a National Honor Society member, the secret of her son was held close, known only to a few. The father, a college student on scholarship, was unaware of the pregnancy, and Carol felt the weight of responsibility was hers alone. "I wasn't in a position to be anybody's mother," she later reflected, wanting her son to have the advantages she herself had, thanks to her own parents.
Jon Kenneth Briggs was placed with a doctor and his wife in Columbus, Ohio. Decades later, that baby would be known as Deland McCullough, a rising star in the coaching world. In early 2017, McCullough, then set to join the Kansas City Chiefs as a running backs coach, found himself reflecting on his own family. He and his wife, Darnell, had just welcomed their fourth son, and for the fourth time, the medical history they provided was incomplete. At 44, McCullough knew little about his origins.
His adoptive mother, Adelle Comer, had told him he was adopted at a young age, but offered no details about his birth parents. For a long time, that was enough. Growing up in Youngstown, he was focused on his own life and family, not wanting to stir up potential complications for anyone. But as his own children grew, so did his curiosity. He wondered about the source of his deep voice, his build, his thoughtful nature. He wanted to know who his sons might resemble, which side of the family their traits came from.
"I didn't know what was going to happen," McCullough admitted, the desire to know outweighing any apprehension. "I just knew I wanted to find out." The unsealing of adoption records in Ohio and Pennsylvania offered a glimmer of hope. After years of searching and months of waiting for paperwork, the files arrived in November 2017. Seeing his original birth certificate, with the name Jon Kenneth Briggs and his mother’s name, Carol Denise Briggs, was a pivotal moment. His father’s name remained absent.
Meanwhile, Carol Briggs, now living a different life, perhaps never imagining the path her son would forge, was also navigating her own journey. The story of Deland McCullough, the coach who found his way back to his beginnings, is a testament to the enduring human need for connection and the surprising ways our lives can unfold, often bringing together paths that were separated at birth.
