Author: kchang

  • ‘Grief is a natural emotion’

    Photos by Kathy Chang/The Sun
    “Support groups don’t work for everybody,” says Tracy Fooks, administrator at Angelic Health Hospice, who adds that people grieve in different ways. She and Ken Jackson, bereavement coordinator and pastor at Cornerstone Church, were at the dedication of a wind phone on July 16.

    When a person is grieving or missing someone, they often don’t have the words – or aren’t sure where to put them.

    That’s where a Wind Phone comes in. It offers a quiet, comforting space where those feelings can be spoken, even if they’re hard to explain.

    “We really just hope it can be a relaxing, meditative place to heal,” said Tracy Fooks, administrator at Angelic Health Hospice, who worked with Ken Jackson, bereavement coordinator and pastor at Cornerstone Church, to bring a wind phone to the area.

    Members of Angelic Health and Cornerstone Church held a dedication ceremony for the device on July 16. The beige rotary phone sits inside a little library-type box on top of a fence post near a tree on the church property at 1875 Janvier Road in Williamstown. There is also a bench for people to sit and reflect.

    Another teal blue rotary phone sits inside another box. Fooks said the phones were hard to find, noting they were eventually found at estate sales and Facebook Marketplace.

    “Support groups don’t work for everybody,” Fooks noted, adding that people grieve in different ways. “Sometimes it’s more of a private journey where one can just come and kinda sit and say what they need to say.”

    The Wind Phone concept began in Japan after Itaru Sasaki’s heartbreaking loss of his cousin. They are now placed around the world as a way to connect with those who’ve passed or as a way to heal other types of grief. The devices are not connected to a phone line, instead, they’re a symbolic place to speak from the heart.

    “Part of the concept of it, too, is the connection of dialing the number,” Fooks explained, adding that she still remembers her mom’s number. “To be able to dial that number, it kind of takes you back to those days.”

    The Wind Phone can be a bridge between what’s inside and what someone is ready to share. It can be a safe place to say, “I miss you,” “I’m angry,” “I love you,” or simply to sit in silence with someone they miss.

    “Grief is a natural emotion,” Fooks observed. “Often times, we hear people apologize for being sad. We want to reduce the stigma of that. We are taught to stuff things inside because it makes other people uncomfortable …

    “We have to do better with grief and loss.”

    Fooks and Jackson also worked with Amy Dawson, who started a journey of healing from the loss of her 20-year-old daughter, Emily, in 2020.

    “It felt like we were cut off and isolated from the world when Emily died,” she recalled. “We were just 14 days into the COVID lockdowns.”

    Emily loved her cell phone and creating a Wind Phone in honor of her daughter was fitting to Dawson. As of July 25, the former Voorhees resident has mapped 440 of the devices, adding new ones several times a week. Dawson also created a website to help others ease their pain at www.mywindphone.com.

    “It is my way of honoring my beautiful daughter and keeping her with me in spirit,” she writes in a story on the website. “I believe it to be a calling that Emily guided me to, and I will live the rest of my life to make her proud.

    “I hope that on your walk with grief,” she added, “your path leads you to a Wind Phone, where the wind will take your words to those you love who have walked ahead.”                

    Dawson, a teacher/reading specialist for 33 years, believes the phones are not only for bereavement, but for people who may be estranged from loved ones. She not only maps and records them, she also provides guidance for those looking to create one. There are variations that include Wind Phones for children and schools.

    New Jersey enacted legislation to create a school curriculum for coping with grief that began in the 2024-’25 school year. When Dawson started her journey, there were less than a dozen. Now there are more than 400 across the country, 308 in U.S., 132 internationally and 10 coming soon.

    The dedication of the Angelic Health Wind Phone marked the ninth device in New Jersey. They include ones in Titusville, Princeton, Frenchtown and Franklinville’s Cornerstone Church. There are also locations in New Vernon and Morristown.

    To find a Wind Phone or for more information, visit www.mywindphone.com.

  • ‘Grief is a natural emotion’

    Photos by Kathy Chang/The Sun
    “Support groups don’t work for everybody,” says Tracy Fooks, administrator at Angelic Health Hospice, who adds that people grieve in different ways. She and Ken Jackson, bereavement coordinator and pastor at Cornerstone Church, were at the dedication of a wind phone on July 16.

    When a person is grieving or missing someone, they often don’t have the words – or aren’t sure where to put them.

    That’s where a Wind Phone comes in. It offers a quiet, comforting space where those feelings can be spoken, even if they’re hard to explain.

    “We really just hope it can be a relaxing, meditative place to heal,” said Tracy Fooks, administrator at Angelic Health Hospice, who worked with Ken Jackson, bereavement coordinator and pastor at Cornerstone Church, to bring a wind phone to the area.

    Members of Angelic Health and Cornerstone Church held a dedication ceremony for the device on July 16. The beige rotary phone sits inside a little library-type box on top of a fence post near a tree on the church property at 1875 Janvier Road in Williamstown. There is also a bench for people to sit and reflect.

    Another teal blue rotary phone sits inside another box. Fooks said the phones were hard to find, noting they were eventually found at estate sales and Facebook Marketplace.

    “Support groups don’t work for everybody,” Fooks noted, adding that people grieve in different ways. “Sometimes it’s more of a private journey where one can just come and kinda sit and say what they need to say.”

    The Wind Phone concept began in Japan after Itaru Sasaki’s heartbreaking loss of his cousin. They are now placed around the world as a way to connect with those who’ve passed or as a way to heal other types of grief. The devices are not connected to a phone line, instead, they’re a symbolic place to speak from the heart.

    “Part of the concept of it, too, is the connection of dialing the number,” Fooks explained, adding that she still remembers her mom’s number. “To be able to dial that number, it kind of takes you back to those days.”

    The Wind Phone can be a bridge between what’s inside and what someone is ready to share. It can be a safe place to say, “I miss you,” “I’m angry,” “I love you,” or simply to sit in silence with someone they miss.

    “Grief is a natural emotion,” Fooks observed. “Often times, we hear people apologize for being sad. We want to reduce the stigma of that. We are taught to stuff things inside because it makes other people uncomfortable …

    “We have to do better with grief and loss.”

    Fooks and Jackson also worked with Amy Dawson, who started a journey of healing from the loss of her 20-year-old daughter, Emily, in 2020.

    “It felt like we were cut off and isolated from the world when Emily died,” she recalled. “We were just 14 days into the COVID lockdowns.”

    Emily loved her cell phone and creating a Wind Phone in honor of her daughter was fitting to Dawson. As of July 25, the former Voorhees resident has mapped 440 of the devices, adding new ones several times a week. Dawson also created a website to help others ease their pain at www.mywindphone.com.

    “It is my way of honoring my beautiful daughter and keeping her with me in spirit,” she writes in a story on the website. “I believe it to be a calling that Emily guided me to, and I will live the rest of my life to make her proud.

    “I hope that on your walk with grief,” she added, “your path leads you to a Wind Phone, where the wind will take your words to those you love who have walked ahead.”                

    Dawson, a teacher/reading specialist for 33 years, believes the phones are not only for bereavement, but for people who may be estranged from loved ones. She not only maps and records them, she also provides guidance for those looking to create one. There are variations that include Wind Phones for children and schools.

    New Jersey enacted legislation to create a school curriculum for coping with grief that began in the 2024-’25 school year. When Dawson started her journey, there were less than a dozen. Now there are more than 400 across the country, 308 in U.S., 132 internationally and 10 coming soon.

    The dedication of the Angelic Health Wind Phone marked the ninth device in New Jersey. They include ones in Titusville, Princeton, Frenchtown and Franklinville’s Cornerstone Church. There are also locations in New Vernon and Morristown.

    To find a Wind Phone or for more information, visit www.mywindphone.com.

  • ‘She’s always been fiercely independent’

    Kathy Chang/The Sun
    Jean Dimmit Sedar is a resident at The Farmstead at Medford who celebrated her birthday with family on July 12.

    With festive “100” glasses, family, friends and neighbors of Jean Dimmit Sedar celebrated as she turned 100 years young.

    Her children, Emily and Warren, reflected on their mom, who was also wearing a “100 and fabulous” sash that acknowledged her childhood on an Iowa farm, where she walked a mile-and-a-half to a one-room schoolhouse and fell in love with music and travel.

    The Haddonfield Symphony – now Symphony in C – was a big part of Sedar’s life, as were string quartets. She played violin in the symphony and also took up viola and guitar. Members of the symphony were on hand to help her celebrate her big milestone on July 12 at The Farmstead at Medford, her home since April.

    Sedar, who officially turned 100 on July 13, previously lived independently in Cherry Hil, even through a stroke in 1994, rehabilitation and COVID, Emily shared. Warren, who traveled from San Francisco, toasted his mother at the celebration.

    Sedar graduated high school at just 16, went on to Central College in Iowa, and later earned both a master’s and a Ph.D. in biology at a time when few women were even working in science, let alone pursuing doctorates.

    “While in graduate school, she met and fell in love with Albert Sedar,” Warren recounted. “They married, had four children, and eventually settled in Barclay Farms, Cherry Hill, where she raised a family without the internet (just imagine that) and lived through more change in one lifetime than most of us can even imagine.

    “Through it all, she’s remained steady, kind, funny – and always unapologetically herself.”

    Warren also provided personal reflections.

    “I’ve always admired her loyalty to my dad,” Warren noted. “He was an avid sailor, and I remember Mom joining him out on the Chesapeake Bay in a tipping sailboat, and she didn’t even know how to swim. She filled our home with music, always practicing the violin, viola or guitar.

    “She also had a sharp mind,” he added, “doing crosswords only in pen, especially the Sunday New York Times puzzles. She loved gardening with Dad and was active in a local horticultural society.

    “She’s always been fiercely independent,” Warren related. “At 88, she went ziplining in Costa Rica. She was still driving until 95, and just yesterday, she was in the car giving me driving directions: ‘Watch your speed, come to a complete stop.’ She’s basically Siri, but better.

    “She still questions my cooking, still refuses to let anyone else pay for dinner and maybe, just maybe, now that she’s 100, she’s starting to let us help … a little.”

  • ‘She’s always been fiercely independent’

    Kathy Chang/The Sun
    Jean Dimmit Sedar is a resident at The Farmstead at Medford who celebrated her birthday with family on July 12.

    With festive “100” glasses, family, friends and neighbors of Jean Dimmit Sedar celebrated as she turned 100 years young.

    Her children, Emily and Warren, reflected on their mom, who was also wearing a “100 and fabulous” sash that acknowledged her childhood on an Iowa farm, where she walked a mile-and-a-half to a one-room schoolhouse and fell in love with music and travel.

    The Haddonfield Symphony – now Symphony in C – was a big part of Sedar’s life, as were string quartets. She played violin in the symphony and also took up viola and guitar. Members of the symphony were on hand to help her celebrate her big milestone on July 12 at The Farmstead at Medford, her home since April.

    Sedar, who officially turned 100 on July 13, previously lived independently in Cherry Hil, even through a stroke in 1994, rehabilitation and COVID, Emily shared. Warren, who traveled from San Francisco, toasted his mother at the celebration.

    Sedar graduated high school at just 16, went on to Central College in Iowa, and later earned both a master’s and a Ph.D. in biology at a time when few women were even working in science, let alone pursuing doctorates.

    “While in graduate school, she met and fell in love with Albert Sedar,” Warren recounted. “They married, had four children, and eventually settled in Barclay Farms, Cherry Hill, where she raised a family without the internet (just imagine that) and lived through more change in one lifetime than most of us can even imagine.

    “Through it all, she’s remained steady, kind, funny – and always unapologetically herself.”

    Warren also provided personal reflections.

    “I’ve always admired her loyalty to my dad,” Warren noted. “He was an avid sailor, and I remember Mom joining him out on the Chesapeake Bay in a tipping sailboat, and she didn’t even know how to swim. She filled our home with music, always practicing the violin, viola or guitar.

    “She also had a sharp mind,” he added, “doing crosswords only in pen, especially the Sunday New York Times puzzles. She loved gardening with Dad and was active in a local horticultural society.

    “She’s always been fiercely independent,” Warren related. “At 88, she went ziplining in Costa Rica. She was still driving until 95, and just yesterday, she was in the car giving me driving directions: ‘Watch your speed, come to a complete stop.’ She’s basically Siri, but better.

    “She still questions my cooking, still refuses to let anyone else pay for dinner and maybe, just maybe, now that she’s 100, she’s starting to let us help … a little.”