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...
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