A Dream of a Nightmare

by: Mike Acord

We all know the gag. In cartoons, you never fall until you look down. Before that, you simply hang in there, suspended by something unseen. This is how I have felt about discussing the closing of Terror on Church Street. I never recognized it, never looked down, it wasn't happening. But the fanfare has played and the Pig has had his say. That was all, folks on May 3, 1999, Black Monday, Terror was no more. I do not remember, but it would be ironic indeed if my first night at Terror had been a Monday. I could not have known that the big fellow who was showing me how to perform the altar scene would soon be the attraction's assistant director. Nor did I know that this same guy would become one of my most treasured friends. I also did not suspect that I myself would emerge as the longest serving actor in the shows' history. I only had three expectations when I accepted an acting position at Terror: To some make money. To make some friends, and to have some fun. Well, I had some fun. I made some friends. As for money... well, I did have fun.

Along the way, I made one very dear friend. Created him, actually. I had always wanted to be a television horror movie host, and I devised my "fisher" (an actor designated to fish people into the attraction), character of Deadbeat as just such a creature. The Terror venue gave me an unparalleled opportunity to develop Deadbeat as a fully realized personality. He proved more popular than I could have ever imagined, drawing his own circle of fans. Deadbeat was my favorite role, but I certainly had my share of "unfavorites," but what I did and did not like, and what I did and did not play is not the core of my Terror memories. What I hold in my heart are the people - a giddy, kaleidoscopic whirl of faces, personalities, and talents. The hours spent backstage talking, joking, laughing, fighting, and crying, is the foundation of my experience at Terror. "Any more groups up? So where's the audition? I told you someone would steal it! Is that a group? Makeup's great tonight! Here's your book back. Alan has the pictures from Saturday. Aw, man, I'm in Altar tomorrow! Group in Cells!"

Terror was as unique a performance situation as I have ever been part of. People ask me what it is that made Terror different. We had terrific sets, but lots of shows have terrific sets. We had good actors, but lots of shows have good actors. It certainly wasn't the location. (If Terror had one great flaw, I'd have to say it was our location) If there was a "secret" or "Terror style." It was an obvious one: the actors got involved, physically, emotionally, and mentally. You could not do our show on auto-pilot. You had to drop the barriers and really be there. There was nowhere to hide around the cast, they all saw who you were This conglomeration of personal quirks drew us closer together. If there was something about another actor that bothered you, you either dealt with it or you found another job.

I look back over this memoir and I note it is missing some things considered endemic to most tributes. I have mentioned no names nor related any anecdotes. In both cases the reason is the same: there are simply too many. If I speak of the little girl who asked Deadbeat to protect her and then grew up before my eyes as she returned each year, do I then leave out the fun of our many parades? Do I tell of the celebrities we entertained, and leave out the tales of our efforts at video production? It is the people that made Terror, and it is those, my great friends, which deserve the recognition here.

Jack Neiberlein, the assistant director is a guy who has the touch. You wanted to work for Jack, to do your best for him. He would go to bat for you a dozen times. On any given night, a round of pizzas might show up backstage, courtesy of Jack. No matter what the situation was, if you made Jack mad, you were wrong. His contributions to Terror were fathomless. He helped to build the show, and more than anyone else, he kept it going night-to-night, although he was always quick to give others the credit.

Alan Ostrander, Terror's make up artist extraordinaire. Alan's incredible drive always amazed me. I don't remember a time when he didn't have a minimum of four projects active at once. (We often feared for his health.) His street character Roach debuted shortly after Deadbeat and quickly became one of my two perfect foils.

Walter Price, a gigantic talent shamelessly wasted by the apathetic Orlando theatrical market. Although he more enjoyed playing his own character, Professor Grimm, his best moments came as Gordon Bennett, a comic slob. Gordon completed the Three Stooges symmetry of Deadbeat and Roach. Had we been able to exploit the video and performance venues we were trying to develop, I don't doubt we'd be signing that action figure deal right about now. I seldom saw Walter at a loss for a comeback or a pithy comment.

My sorrow for Terror is for the lost potential. I am sorry for the loss of a regular wage, but I'm grateful for what the experience imparted to me. I'm proud to say that during our tenure, we made it work against all the odds. We did it night after night for seven and a half years. Terror is not over, it is only a building that has closed. It could be done again. With the knowledge and experience gained in Orlando, it could be done better. I would truly love to see that happen. Perhaps I would be asked to be part of it once again. It may be just a dream-a dream of a nightmare. You can't, as they say, go home again. But I've been there once...