It is not often that an enduring love story is sparked by a blue mixed drink at a neighborhood bar.
But Pauline Freeman was immediately impressed by her future husband, Terrance. Although he was 13 years her junior, he was family-oriented, attentive, and carried himself well. He also was a meticulous dresser, careful that his pants fit his linebacker frame instead of pooling around his knees.
“I just liked how he was flowing,” remembered Pauline, who stopped chatting with her girlfriend to acknowledge the striking man who made a beeline for the stool next to her at Charlie B’s Place in Germantown.
He had observed her before walking around the neighborhood and liked what he saw. She was intrigued by his colorful drink. She took his digits but didn’t call him for a week. Terrance wasn’t much older than her son, yet he exuded quiet strength.
Six years ago, the couple had an impromptu marriage ceremony at City Hall and Terrance eased into becoming a father figure to Pauline’s three children. He commanded respect on the streets and made sure that the kids got home safe.
“He’s such a giver,” Pauline recalled. “Even if he had $10 in his pocket and I asked for $15, he would give me $20.”
On Jan. 21, 2020, Terrance was found dead inside of a gold Buick at 100 W. Manheim St. in Germantown, after being shot multiple times in his torso. He was 29.
Five weeks later, Pauline’s son, Rasoul Grant, 23, was fatally shot multiple times while exiting a car on West Logan Street, also in Germantown. Both cases remain unsolved; Pauline believes that the two crimes are not connected.
A popular football player, Terrance graduated from Germantown High School and began working for his father’s moving business. Still, he yearned to start his own venture and move to a safer area of Philadelphia.
“He never complained,” Pauline said. “He always wanted to do more but he just felt like he was stuck.”
Terrance, also known as “T,” enjoyed cooking baked ziti and seasoned tilapia — competing for the title of top chef with his family. He also relished going out to eat, especially at Bonefish Grill. He doused everything in garlic powder.
“He was hilarious. He always wanted the last word,” recalled Pauline’s daughter, Amanda Millien.
Terrance turned Amanda on to chicken biscuits at Chick-fil-A during their regular breakfast runs. He also enjoyed playing in the ocean during family trips to Rehoboth Beach.
He was an empathetic soul, bringing home stray pit bulls and cats he found on the street. He presented Pauline with chocolates and flowers for no apparent reason. He was easygoing, willing to watch the movies she liked, including silly love stories. If Pauline started tearing up, Terrance would respond matter-of-factly: “Wait, you know he’s still alive?”
He was affectionate, often professing his love for his wife. The couple were in sync and spontaneous.
“Babe, I need a tattoo,” Terrance confided in Pauline one morning.
“Me too.”
Terrance ended up getting a gigantic “Pauline” emblazoned on his right arm. She opted for a tiny “Terrance” encircling her ring finger, which he joked wasn’t big enough.
He was always there for Pauline’s children, helping to stop arguments from escalating after dark.
“He loved my children and grandkids,” Pauline said. “He was special.”
A reward of up to $20,000 is available to anyone that comes forward with information that leads to the arrest and conviction of the persons responsible for Terrance’s murder. Anonymous calls can be submitted by calling the Citizens Crime Commission at 215-546-TIPS.
Resources are available for people and communities that have endured gun violence in Philadelphia. Click here for more information.
Date: 2020-01-31
Location: 100 W Manheim St, Philadelphia, PA
