The Ohio Putative Father Registry - The What?
The elevator doors opened on the third floor and I found myself looking at a long blank wall. Both directions led to large, open office areas with makeshift work cubicles. I went left and saw a sign, "adoptions." I proceeded into the large office area, figuring soon to see a sign for the "Putative Father Registry." No such luck. I now realized the reason for some of the confusion I had encountered. The registry, and whatever "department" it fell under, had recently moved here. I approached the only person I saw, a man working at a larger table in front.
"Excuse me, I'm looking for the Putative Father Registry Office."
"Hmm," he drawled, "yes - that's across the hall, on the other side of this floor. Go back past the elevators and you'll see a front desk. Ask the person at the desk for 'G_____.'"
I found the front desk easily. But no G_____, or anyone else. I waited. It wasn't lunchtime, so someone should be back soon. But for ten minutes, no one came, though workers occasionally scurried by, too busy apparently to ask if I needed assistance. After five more minutes I decided to look for the person or office myself and ventured gingerly through the maze of office dividers. I heard a sound and peeked around a barrier. The woman at the desk looked busy.
"Excuse me," I said, "can you direct me to the Putative Father Registry?"
"Yes, you need to speak to Ms. F_____. Follow me." She led me deeper into the maze of offices until we came to a cubicle where three women were standing and chatting. "Ms. F_____, this man's looking for the Putative Father Registry."
Ms. F_____ smiled at me. "Oh, yes, what's your name?" I hesitated. Didn't every putative father have a right to the registration form without giving his name? Well, in truth, I felt slightly embarrassed. I could only imagine a seventeen-year-old in this situation.
"I'm Erik Smith."
"Oh, yes. Come with me, I have to copy the form for you. You're representing the father, right?"
"Yes."
I suddenly got it. She thought I was a lawyer. Was I the first man in the history of Ohio to walk in and actually ask to sign the putative father registry?
She grabbed a document from a bin and we walked to the copier. I sat in a nearby chair. "Say," I remarked as she made copies, "the guard on first floor didn't even know this office existed." She laughed. I wondered if a judge would accept that as an excuse for belated registration ("The guard told me the office wasn't there, your honor.") Ms. F_____ finished copying, put the form and another loose page in a file, and handed it to me. Then she gave me a pamphlet entitled DON'T BE LEFT OUT OF THE PICTURE.
I thought, this must be the "informational materials" required by R.C. 3701.065. Information of little value to me now that I had gotten this far. I tried to remember if it was Sartre who said that giving the Nobel Prize for literature was like throwing a lifesaver to a man after he had already swum ashore.
But I had my form. I went to the library, made four copies, and returned to work. I would wait until the weekend to fill the forms out. I had time. Besides, I had to look up the girls' addresses. I didn't know them by heart.
That Sunday evening, I started filling out the forms. I used a separate form for each potential mother. The form was easy. First came my name, address, and phone number, then the mother's information. Further down was the return address. Very convenient. East State Street. I addressed the envelopes before filling out the rest of the form.
But I couldn't finish the forms today. They had to be notarized. I couldn't find a notary on Sunday. What if a putative father's thirtieth day fell on Sunday and he couldn't file the form sooner? Fortunately, I did not have such a time crunch.
Something else struck me as odd. The notary line read: "____ day of _______, 19 ____." Had the forms not been updated in three years? I changed the "19" to "20" and initialed it.
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