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Anita Tedder
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Enka High School
Class Of 1976 |
Deceased Classmate: Anita Tedder
Date Deceased: May-14-2009
Age at Death: 50
Cause of Death:
Classmate City: Charleston
Classmate State: SC
Classmate Country: USA
Survived By:
Anita's Last Chance Homeless woman's dreams of a new life, with a new love, cut short By Glenn Smith (Contact) The Post and Courier Sunday, May 24, 2009 Melissa Haneline The Post and Courier Steve Dillingham holds a photo of his deceased fiancee, Anita Tedder, pictured with her dog, Bogie. Melissa Haneline The Post and Courier Steve Dillingham (right) turns to James Jamison on Thursday in Wragg Square as they talk about Anita Tedder, the homeless woman found dead May 14 in Marion Square. Anita Tedder Previous story Woman found dead in Marion Square identified, published 05/14/09 Anita Tedder arrived in Charleston on a chilly, rain-swept night at Christmastime. Low on luck and money, she stepped off a bus from North Carolina with hopes of building a new life in this port city far from the mountains of her birth. She'd barely caught her breath when a mugger slid from the darkness and roughed her up, disappearing into the night with her last $200. Alone, dejected and broke, Anita curled up on the front stoop of an empty church and tried to sleep as rain pooled around her. A Charleston police officer found Anita in the morning and gave her a lift to the Crisis Ministries homeless shelter, a stop of last resort for the region's poor, broken and downtrodden. Anita had no way of knowing that day that she would find the new life she'd been looking for within the shelter's Spartan confines. Friends, love, a sense of family. She likely had no idea she soon would be working a steady job, volunteering in the community and planning a wedding. Nor could she foresee that this new life would come crashing down within months as old demons came calling. Anita's last day in Charleston ended much the same as her first — alone, and in the rain. When some fellow street people found her body beneath trees in Marion Square on May 14, a good many residents shrugged off the find. After all, she was homeless, another example of a wasted life that had come to an untimely end. Her friends knew better. Fleeing a rough past The women at the homeless shelter saw right away there was something different about Anita. Fit, lean, with luxuriant silver-swirled hair, she didn't look like someone from the streets. Each morning, she labored in front of a mirror, fixing her hair, applying makeup, making sure her nails were just right. She had an easy laugh, an infectious smile and a bubbly sense about her that seemed to belie the straits she was in. "I don't remember the last time I had three meals a day," she confided to her bunkmates on her first night in the shelter. Over time, her new friends gleaned other fractured bits about Anita's past. She had spent most of her 50 years in and around Asheville, N.C., where she grew up in relative comfort. A talented hairdresser and cosmetologist, she'd once owned her own salon. She said she had suffered two brain aneurysms and accompanying depression, and had lost everything after her second husband died about a year before. Anita also struggled with a drinking problem and had come to Charleston after skipping out on a court date for a drunken-driving charge. She told one friend the move was her last chance. A chance at love Steve Dillingham knew none of this when Anita caught his eye one day at the shelter about a month after she arrived in town. They got to talking and hit it off. It was eerie how much they had in common. A wiry man with sandy-gray hair and rugged good looks, Steve was just a year older than Anita, and he had grown up in Asheville, as well. They'd never crossed paths even though they swam in the same pool as kids and knew some of the same people. They shared a love of animals and a history of abusing the bottle. Steve made a good living as a carpenter before the economy hit the skids and work dried up. By the time he reached the shelter's door in November, he was nearly broke and had been living in the James Island woods for three months. He clung to his faith as he struggled to hang on. The more time Anita and her new beau spent together, the more inseparable they became. They walked the city and lounged in its parks. They went to Alcoholics Anonymous meetings and services at Seacoast Church in West Ashley. They visited downtown dog parks to be around animals and took buses to James Island to volunteer at Pet Helpers. At the homeless shelter, Steve watched with pride as Anita showed off her hairdressing skills. She spent weeks helping one woman comb out the snarls, kinks and damage in her long, red hair. For another woman so riddled with arthritis she no longer could maintain long hair, Anita sculpted a new hairdo that easily could have cost $75 in a salon. As Steve and Anita talked, their conversations began to shift from the day-to-day existence of the shelter to a future neither had dared to dream of alone. By late March, their minds were made up. They were going to get married. Building a new life While walking through the City Market one day, Anita popped into the Bubba Gump Shrimp Co. restaurant and inquired about a job. She had worked as a waitress before, but she worried that no one would hire a middle-age homeless woman as a server. Her friends told her to just be herself and let her personality shine through. Bubba Gump general manager Rich Rettig listened as Anita explained her situation and her desire to work. There was just something about her. She was so upbeat, so intent on being successful. He hired her on the spot and put her to work waiting tables on the lunch shift. Some friends worried about Anita working around alcohol, particularly since she'd had only a few months of sobriety under her belt. Anita assured them she could handle it. Besides, she was bringing in $300 a week with hopes of picking up more hours. Anita and Steve were intent on getting out of the shelter and building a new life. She started attending premarital counseling at Seacoast and firming up details for a Sept. 12 wedding on Folly Beach. Anita picked out a white linen dress and placed it on layaway at a downtown shop. Steve would wear a white linen shirt and pants, a "poofy" ensemble he called it. They planned to exchange vows on the beach at sunset, marking their union by mingling vials of red and blue sand in the churning surf. Anita had never been to Folly. The bus didn't go that far. But she'd often heard Steve tell of how special a place it was. The wedding just had to be there. Everything seemed to be going so well. Until a day in the park changed it all. The old demons return The couple were playing Frisbee in Marion Square one afternoon in late April when Steve dove for the disc and aggravated a persistent pain in his back. By the time they finished walking back to the shelter, he was hobbling. They decided to get to him to a doctor to find out what was wrong. The diagnosis was bad: He had a crippling degenerative spinal condition. Anita went pale. She told him the same ailment had brought down her second husband. It seemed like history repeating itself. She soon began to drink again. Cheap vodka. A little at first, then more. "You don't need to do this, Baby," Steve told her. "You've come so far." Anita didn't stop. And though she seemed to be holding things together, some friends noticed the change. The bubbly personality disappeared when she'd been drinking, replaced by defensiveness and irritability. One sunny afternoon, Steve and Anita stood along The Battery sea wall, holding each other close as they watched boats navigate the currents of Charleston Harbor. They turned to one another and exchanged vows, marking a symbolic union. All they needed was a piece of paper to make it official. On May 15, they planned to visit City Hall and get their marriage license. Alone in the streets Around noon on May 13, Anita stopped into Bubba Gump to check her work schedule for the coming week. She smiled and seemed in fine spirits. In one hand, she held a bouquet of flowers from Steve. As she stepped out the door that day, her life unraveled. Witnesses later would tell police that Anita had gone on a drinking binge, though accounts differ as to how drunk she got that day. As evening settled in, Anita returned to the shelter to bed down for the night. Steve, in a separate housing unit, assumed she was fine. Then a friend rushed in and told him shelter officials had booted Anita from the facility for showing up under the influence of alcohol, which is strictly against the rules. Steve dashed out the door in search of Anita, checking vacant buildings and anywhere else she might turn for shelter. He found her at a friend's cramped apartment on Spring Street. Relieved, he curled up beside her on the floor, holding her close as they fell asleep. But when the chatter of a television program roused Steve around 5 a.m., the floor beside him was empty. "Where's Anita?" he asked his friend. "She left." "What?" Steve cried as he scrambled to his feet. He plunged into the predawn darkness and started searching again. Abandoned houses. Laundry rooms. Vacant spaces. She had to be somewhere. A couple of hours later, Steve stood outside an Alcoholics Anonymous gathering spot on Meeting Street. He'd come up empty. He was trying to figure out what to do next when a friend's phone rang with the news that someone had found Anita in Marion Square. "Anita is dead?" the friend asked the caller. Steve took off running for the park. A dream cut short A homeless man was brushing his teeth in a drinking fountain when he spied a woman's body beneath a stand of trees. She sat cross-legged on the damp ground, her head pitched forward and swirling hair askew. Police cruisers filled the area by the time Steve arrived. An officer stopped him as he dashed into the park, trying to reach her. It was too late. Anita was gone. Investigators still don't know how Anita died, but they don't suspect foul play. They found no bruising or signs of an assault. They hope to learn more when toxicology tests are completed in the coming weeks. For now, her friends are left to wonder how and why her life was cut short just shy of the new start she had dreamed about. "She was an intelligent woman and very compassionate," said Chuck Sumner, assistant pastor at Seacoast. "There was so much potential for her to live a productive life, a good, normal life." Instead of a wedding, Steve now talks about hosting a memorial service for Anita at Folly. The days since her death have been a blur. Another homeless man has been his shadow during this time, making sure grief doesn't pull him under. He's still holding fast to his faith but admits he's had a couple of drinks to take the edge off. He can't help but feel a part of him died in the park that day, as well. "I just don't understand it," he said, shaking his head as rain drizzled down on a small park off Meeting Street. "We were so happy. We were perfect. You know that. We were perfect." Reach Glenn Smith at 937-5556 or gsmith@postandcourier.com.
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Debbie Blair (Stallings)
I have never been so shocked as to hear of Anita's story. Bless her heart. She was such a beautiful girl with so much personality. May she RIP.Michael Wiley
I considered Anita one of my closest friends and we became more so after high school. I wish I had known her situation. There would have been nothing I wouldn't have given up to help her back to her feet...You will be missed, Anita, but your memory will live on.
See you at the reunion in the sky...
Andrea Rhodarmer (Cody)
Anita was beautiful and talented. It breaks my heart that she left us this way. Addiction is a demon, but it cannot take our memory of Anita.Vicki Radford (Melvin)
I always enjoyed conversation with Anita. She was always happy and funny. I am truly sorry to hear of her troubles and trials. I would have done anything to help her. May she rest in peace.Patrice Horton (German)
My best friend always and I will love you forever. I am so sorry I came home too late to be of much help. I'm glad you waited for me, though.
Cannot wait to see you again, my friend. Until then xoxo, Patrice