Terri Rimmer

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 get away with n...

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 from our ste...

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 of the teenage re...

By Terri Rimmer Two months before my sixteenth birthday my mom placed me in a juvenile delinquent home for girls which was housed in a private home in a regular neighborhood. There were five other girls besides me, all with histories of behavior problems or their parents simply didn't want them. The house was made of cedar wood and giant Brown Recluse spiders used to hang out in the rafters which I found out later much to my horror. One crazy roommate I had thought it'd be cute once to put one of these creatures on my bed. The first time I met the residents and staff before moving in, my mom and I were given a tour of the two-story home which included six bedrooms, three bathrooms, a rec room, dining area, big backyard, garage, small kitchen, and living room. The girls complimented me on my hair and I tried to act all tough like they were but I was scared inside and I didn't belong in this place, either. I has just sabotaged my second foster home placement with a couple in ...

By Terri Rimmer It started out innocent enough. The ad asked for paid volunteers to experiment with a form of birth control known as the "O ring". They didn't tell me that it was easier to put in than to take out, something I found out, wriggling around on the cold floor of my bathroom later. It was one of many research studies I've been involved in since 1992 to earn extra money. Each one has their own criteria, their own rules, limits, risks, interesting data, and various pay, of course. With asthma, I found I was either too chronic or not chronic enough, a frustrating discovery. One asthma study required me to keep blowing into a machine to make balloons on the computer screen "pop." This determined whether or not I would qualify for the study. After much pain from blowing, I did not and was sent on my way. An allergy study I was in required me to not take any antihistamines weeks before the study, something I, who suffer from severe allergies, could not ...

By Terri Rimmer After many placements back and and forth between my mom and dad and various other places, I continued with my third foster home in the summer of 1983. I had just wrapped up a three-week stint with my dad who was getting ready to buy me birth control pills so he could have sex with me finally when I called my sister Cindy and she rescued me from his sick clutches once again. This time we sat in the lobby of the Department of Family and Children's Services (DEFACS) awaiting our turn to speak with a social worker. She ushered us in professionally and told us about my soon to be new foster parent, Doris Strickland. Mrs. Strickland and her husband Bill had been foster parents for many years, had grown kids and grandkids, lived out in the country, and had several foster children living with them. Bill would soon be retiring from a trade profession and Doris never worked outside the home. "They're on their way to come get you now," the social worker told me a...

By Terri Rimmer You, always ready with a smile, helping hand, laughter, jokes. No one, not even your wife, best friend knew of the pain within. Everyone thought you were doing so great. You seemed to be, they say. You'd lost weight, repaired your marriage, strengthened your friendships. Or so it seemed. But one day before one of your son's birthdays, you headed home from work like any other day, stopping off for a detour that would change your life forever and inflict such pain in the hearts of your loved ones still in shock. You told her, "You need to come get the truck" after calling the police, telling them someone was after you. You must have had it planned for months, or so your doctor said. What went through your mind as you drove that road, off the interstate headed for trees? Did you have second thoughts? Did you think what if? Did you think of anyone else? You pulled your truck up under a tree, got out, ending it all. One of your sons with his friend found yo...

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Author whose poem appears in book benefiting American Cancer Society says writing helps her cope with some of the sad experiences in life By Tammye Nash Dallas Voice FORT WORTH - When she submitted a poem to writersway.org, Fort Worth writer Terri Rimmer didn't realize part of the proceeds from sales of the anthology she hoped to be a part of would benefit the American Cancer Society. But when she found out her poem was selected for the anthology called "Spirit of Strength," Rimmer was glad to know her poetry would help benefit such a good cause, she said during a recent interview "I have had a lot of friends and family members who have had cancer. Quite a number of them have died," Rimmer said. "In fact, the day I found out my poem had been chosen for 'Spirit of Strength,' a good friend of mine told me they think she has bladder cancer." Editor Kristen M. Biss said "Spirit of Strength" - a special print edition of Voices Literary Mag...

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