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Showing posts from December 21, 2004

The Cottage

By Terri Rimmer They told me it was a nice place, that there were Shetland ponies and lots of room. That it'd be like a private school dorm, there would be people my age, lots of activities, and I'd like it there. I don't remember if they told me the name ahead of time but I remember the huge sign that read Elks-Aidmore Children's Home in fancy blue scroll against a white backdrop with uncut grass behind it as we rounded the curve. There were individual little "houses" (cottages) divided between gender and age, a tennis court, game room, administration building, pool, trails, and lots of room to walk. It was owned by the local Elks Lodge and a large, booming man named Milton oversaw the large staff who supervised us for better or worse. There was Ron, a handsome staffer, later accused of child molestation, Ginger, who had cerebral palsy, Maxine, a twenty-something with long, flowing curly hair but the others I can't remember. One time one o...

Chords

By Terri Rimmer From the time I was a kid, music has been a focal point to what was going on in my life, serving as a backdrop against an array of experiences, good and bad, often healing, sometimes bringing up tears of happiness. I can still remember songs that were popular when I was just three years old, each one reminding me of a past I used to live like the song about going round in circles that played over the sound system when our family went to Six Flags. Another similar one flashes me back to a little boy in a stroller at the amusement park who I saw when I first heard a song. When I was born in 1966 famous groups were The Birds, The Beatles, The Monkees, and other trios like them. It marked a time of innocence, experimentation and, later Woodstock. I don't remember The Doors in their heyday, though now I'm a big fan, always feeling like I was born in the wrong time period, a true hippie at heart. I do recall my older sister Debbie blasting loud rock music fr...

Silver Screens

By Terri Rimmer I miss the drive-in. You remember, those huge outdoor theatres where your dad lifted a heavy box into the driver's window and Hollywood came to life while people milled around outside? I can picture my daughter's face one day scrunched up in confusion when I try to describe the magic that was this experience. From the time I was in elementary school I was taken to movies, my first drive-in movies being "The Godfather" and "Walking Tall" with a family I was staying with while my parents were on vacation. I remember being scared of some of the loud noises in those particular movies and being homesick. To remedy this, the wife of the family took me to the concession stand and bought me something. I fell asleep later in the back with her kids, the seat of their station wagon folded down for comfort. When my sisters and I would go to the indoor movies sometimes we'd skip around and watch different films, something you can't ...