This is an I-Heart podcast.

And we continue with our American stories.

Up next, a story from a listener in West Virginia. Here's Joe Quinn with his story.

On the morning of April 30th, 2019, I got back into acting after raising a family and then on April 30th at 5.30 in the morning while I was putting my boots on

getting ready for work. I felt something funny. It wasn't funny like ha ha funny. It was funny

like well that was weird. So I started to tie my boots and a little bit of a hard feeling on my right hand.

It wasn't working very well.

I looked in myself in the mirror and I stuck my tongue out and my right side of my face

just sagged and I went, oh, oh God, I'm having a stroke.

So I went upstairs with my right

legs starting to dwindle and I wanted to tell my wife I'm having a stroke and I

couldn't talk so that was the beginning of a real tumultuous journey. I always knew I was adopted.

Always.

For my earliest recollection, my parents made sure I knew that I was adopted.

So I guess it was important, but to me, it didn't matter. I had my mom and dad.

And as I grew up, I was just a little tyke. And I remember my dad had a finity for alcohol. He drank. And I remember my dad had a affinity for alcohol.

He drank.

And I remember one time I was seven.

I hit a home run in Little League baseball.

And that's all I ever hit was that one home run.

Because my dad, he sort of staggered out of the bleachers and he was from Louisiana.

He was a southerner. My mother was from Germany. She was a war bride. Well, my dad comes staggering out of the bleachers and he goes,

...