In 2002, the Smithsonian American Museum of National History opened one of the first September 11 exhibitions on the first anniversary of the attacks. The families and loved ones of those who died on that day were included in the planning of the exhibition and were also invited to be the first to see the actual exhibition. Curators labored over what to include or not include, how to design a living memorial that could commemorate the lives of those lost, as well as educate future generations about the significance of that day.
Even with the best efforts of well-meaning curators, there may be details that need to be adjusted. At that first-anniversary family preview in Washington, family members let their feelings be known immediately and with raw power. To paraphrase one family member, “How can you list the specific number of victims (a number that included the terrorists) on a plane, without considering the terror of the passengers and crews last moments, without considering the intense criminal action of the perpetrators? They should no longer be considered acts of human beings but subhuman animals.”
Their appeal to the exhibition curators was heard loud and clear. The story as presented did not feel “right.” And so the number of fatalities listed in the exhibit was changed to exclude the hijackers.
For some, that day was as painful and raw as it was a year before. Family support for those who will never cease feeling the loss and grief is always part of the preplanning and implementation of the day. Recruiting and screening emotional and spiritual care professionals—those who have actually dealt with mass fatality and loss—is vital.
Staffing for these “family and friends” events oftentimes needs to be subtle. You don’t have to walk through a gateway of ambulances to convey that help is there if you need it. For those in charge, one does not have to have visible clinical lab coats and chaplains wearing crosses and collars. You just need professionals there as a nonanxious presence, to act as observers, resources, and consultants. If someone collapses, there’s an available medical response for the physical—hitting one’s head, fainting, or just to help assess the medical issue. For deep emotional outbursts or for those who seek the company of their rabbi or priest, there may be initial chaplain resources that can provide support and a transition to the family faith group community leader. Prepare for anything that may occur after the safety and security of those present is provided.
It is important to remember that these exhibition spaces are sacred ground for many families and loved ones. What is displayed are part of sacred vestments: shoes lost, vests worn, hats dented. Any museum or exhibition may be painfully inadequate to ever convey the depth of pain and loss experienced immediately and over time. Having facial tissue is both wise and ridiculous. Am I supposed to cry? Why can’t I cry? You should not have to pay to go to the cemetery. The museum is also a tomb.
Survivors may ask themselves, “Am I safe at this exhibition? Am I safe from unwanted offers of support or prayer? Am I safe from predators? Am I safe from those who have infiltrated this holy space and now have intense emotional issues of their own only to prey upon others as experts or helpers?”
Not everyone crying around you is an immediate family member or loved one. The person you may be seeking to support may distract you from your intended client. Memorials can become magnets for the dysfunctional. Preexisting emotional and spiritual wounds can be exacerbated within the general public. Be prepared for anything. There are so many who need help. Each event. Each anniversary. At any time, they could be triggered.
Best practices ask that we moderate our viewing and our exposure to the horrific images and trauma of that day, although scenes at the new September 11 museum in New York City are visible to accurately tell the unimaginable horror of that day. There are marked exits for those who may become overwhelmed with sounds and images of that day.
I may not visit the 9/11 museum in New York in the near future. I taught at Borough of Manhattan Community College. My classroom was destroyed when 7 World Trade Center fell. Even now many years later, it is still too raw.
There are others who believe that it is imperative to nationally rebroadcast the news coverage of September 11 every anniversary so that one may never forget, to stay vigilant and resilient, as well as prepare for what might never have been imagined.
In a nondescript warehouse building in northern Virginia, the reconstructed fuselage of TWA flight 800 sits. It is a memorial for the families of those lost when the plane exploded off Long Island in 1996. Sections of the plane landed in the Atlantic Ocean over a wide area, and what was recovered and reassembled is extraordinary. For those desiring to view it, one must have a one-hour orientation to prepare for what they are about to see. It is somber and silent, and the reality that 246 people died in the crash is never forgotten. Some on board did not die instantly, as it took almost 30 seconds to hit the water. Many passengers were still strapped to their seats by their seatbelts. A student of mine at Borough of Manhattan Community College was in the National Guard at the time of the crash and was with a crew that recovered many of the bodies. She mentioned the corpses had wide-mouthed and wide-eyed expressions of unfolding terror. Is this information necessary, or should one not disclose the complete reality to family and loved ones?
Families are curious and intelligent and want to know how to reconstruct the last minutes of their loved ones’ lives. However, it may be comforting to simply say they died instantly and were in no pain. After a loved one dies and before he or she is recovered from the bottom of the ocean, families may wonder about sharks and other predators destroying the body. One can simply say that there is marine life in the vicinity. Never lie to a family member, but there are ways of conveying the truth with more comfort.
Sometimes suitcases and wallets are recovered; purses and backpacks that are not destroyed upon impact and are miraculously intact. These recovered items can be immensely valuable to the loved ones who survive. They can also be objects invested with much traumatic witness. Lives cut short in an unanticipated way and reminders of full lives lived or lives cut short.
Sentimental jewelry or a wristwatch can have immense value when returned to a loved one. Objects of great comfort. Objects of great sentiment. Objects invested with great loss and pain. A wallet. A watch. A necklace. A bracelet. Things that they wore. Things that they valued. Things that may comfort even though they are no longer here.
After that first month, the funerals and memorials (some may be delayed if remains can’t be found), there comes a season of new beginnings.
The first home-cooked meal.
The first basketball game.
The first church or synagogue service.
The first wedding.
During the first year, the cemeteries receive regular visits at all hours of the day by families and loved ones. There are times when it just feels right to go visit the dead. Life gets back to the new normal, with a missing hole in the heart of the family.
Death certificates have been signed and filed, wills have been probated, memorials long since silent. Then comes the first baby or first birthday without him or her. Hearts are full and grief is still strong, but we still try to put on a happy face for celebrations in the family.
What are you going to do with his clothes? What are you going to do with her jewelry?
These become decisions during the first year and may make loved ones uncomfortable. One of the hardest things to do is throw out clothes—anything that has the smell of the deceased—because another trace, another piece of evidence is being taken away and, with it, the proof that someone lived, loved, and made a difference. Others find creative solutions, creating quilts from T-shirts or ties, donating books to beloved friends or schools, gifting jewelry to relatives. There is no rush to do any of this. The time to go through clothes and throw stuff out or give it to Goodwill is the time when close relatives are ready to take that next step.
That special time of year may be hell for those still grieving. Know that this is an incredibly sensitive period—continuing in a very sensitive first year: the first Seder or the first midnight mass; the first Christmas tree or dinner without them.
We have these perfect images of holidays: Thanksgivings with families happily serving turkey around an expanded table; happy couples sharing that first kiss of the new year; a parent hoisting a child on his shoulders to view fireworks on the Fourth of July. For those who may not have a traditional family gathering after the highly traumatic death of a loved one, in a disaster, holidays may take on a different meaning. There is little comfort in forcing someone to go to a dinner or a party in the first year after the loss of a loved one. It’s not about getting over it or getting on with it; it’s about understanding that the holiday may be too soon or too fraught with emotion to be actually enjoyable.
As AIDS activist Eric Sawyer writes,
Looking for an alternative to my reality of my soul mate dying of AIDS at 30 leaving me forever the grieving widow at 32. People wonder why long-term survivors like me, who have buried a lover, or worse more than one lover, soul mates to our impressionable youth desperate for love, are forever in mourning, even after seemingly successful lives.
They don’t realize how lost we are, how deeply scarred we are from the loss of love, or from the pain that was so deeply burned into our hearts, as we tried, unsuccessfully, to ease the pain of our loved ones as they breathed their final breaths. Or how the loss of most of the friends from our youth has left us vulnerable, without our army of comrades.
Others find that attending celebrations helps them to move on. When my own sister died two days before her daughter’s birthday, many relatives and friends worked in a very dedicated manner to celebrate Sarah’s birthday and not focus on the death of her mother two days before. This was a comfort to us. It was not fake or forced. It just felt nice and normal and the way things should be. It was also kind.
There is no one solution, no way it must be. Anniversary commemorations may be “therapeutic” to some, but for others a reminder of funerals or memories of those first days, weeks, and months. When there were so many well-intentioned people asking, “How are you?”
To a spouse or parent, their loved one is still very much here. There may still be many complex emotions a year later in dealing with such a profound loss. Give people permission to share and be a good listener. There can be a comfort in being unafraid to have a conversation about the deceased. It even can be considered healthy and normal. Do not discount the importance of being there and comforting. During these anniversaries, remember feelings are not only enhanced but hiding behind a made-up face and a well-brushed hairdo.
In the recent past, fatalities were described in numbers. Today, it is widely understood that fatalities should be represented by their names.
Numbers are used to convey the immensity of an act of violence, the impact of multiple, horrible fatalities with the name of the perpetrator given prominence. In the past, the gunman would make the cover of a magazine and the victims were relegated to the inside pages as sidebars of a larger story of the tragedy. Today, the victims are given more prominence and the instigator or primary criminal actor is no longer given the prominence or “fame” that usually accompanies mass murder. After the Pulse massacre in Orlando, Time magazine put the forty-nine victims’ photographs on the cover instead of the gunman. In March 2019, the prime minister of New Zealand refused to mention by name the mosque shooter.
Each year, at the 9/11 Memorial in New York City and elsewhere, a reading of the names of victims is included in annual anniversary commemorations. There is no greater impact or visualization than reading the individual names or displaying photographs of each of the victims. Just reading the headlines of numbers killed and wounded does not convey the magnitude, the human cost, of these horrendous acts of violence.
After spending two weeks in Orlando with the families and loved ones of those killed and wounded, I heard their names read at vigils and memorials. They became real and not numbers. Adding the young ages of the victims of the Pulse nightclub also conveys the magnitude of the loss in terms of lives cut short, lives not fully lived:
Stanley Almodóvar III, 23 years old
Amanda L. Alvear, 25 years old
Oscar A. Aracena Montero, 26 years old
Rodolfo Ayala Ayala, 33 years old
Antonio Davon Brown, 29 years old
Darryl Roman Burt II, 29 years old
Angel Candelario-Padro, 28 years old
Juan Chavez Martinez, 25 years old
Luis Daniel Conde, 39 years old
Cory James Connell, 21 years old
Tevin Eugene Crosby, 25 years old
Deonka Deidra Drayton, 32 years old
Simón Adrian Carrillo Fernández, 31 years old
Leroy Valentin Fernandez, 25 years old
Mercedez Marisol Flores, 26 years old
Peter Ommy Gonzalez Cruz, 22 years old
Juan Ramon Guerrero, 22 years old
Paul Terrell Henry, 41 years old
Frank Hernandez, 27 years old
Miguel Angel Honorato, 30 years old
Javier Jorge Reyes, 40 years old
Jason Benjamin Josaphat, 19 years old
Eddie Jamoldroy Justice, 30 years old
Anthony Luis Laureano Disla, 25 years old
Christopher Andrew Leinonen, 32 years old
Alejandro Barrios Martinez, 21 years old
Brenda Marquez McCool, 49 years old
Gilberto R. Silva Menendez, 25 years old
Kimberly Jean Morris, 37 years old
Akyra Monet Murray, 18 years old
Luis Omar Ocasio Capo, 20 years old
Geraldo A. Ortiz Jimenez, 25 years old
Eric Ivan Ortiz-Rivera, 36 years old
Joel Rayon Paniagua, 32 years old
Jean Carlos Mendez Perez, 35 years old
Enrique L. Rios Jr., 25 years old
Jean Carlos Nieves Rodríguez, 27 years old
Xavier Emmanuel Serrano-Rosado, 35 years old
Christopher Joseph Sanfeliz, 24 years old
Yilmary Rodríguez Solivan, 24 years old
Edward Sotomayor Jr., 34 years old
Shane Evan Tomlinson, 33 years old
Martin Benitez Torres, 33 years old
Jonathan A. Camuy Vega, 24 years old
Juan Pablo Rivera Velázquez, 37 years old
Luis Sergio Vielma, 22 years old
Franky Jimmy DeJesus Velázquez, 50 years old
Luis Daniel Wilson-Leon, 37 years old
Jerald Arthur Wright, 31 years old
One can simply say forty-nine dead or say the names. Always say the names. Always remember. Real names insure that they are remembered.
On the first anniversary of the crash of Continental flight 3407, the families developed a new ritual—to finish the flight for their loved ones who perished when the plane came down eleven miles short of its destination in Buffalo, New York, by planning a memorial walk. There was no template to honor the dead in this way. This idea surfaced from the family members themselves who felt this would be appropriate on the first anniversary. They were joined by over a thousand people who wanted to support and remember the victims of this plane crash.
The anniversary memorial walk to the airport also became a sort of pilgrimage for the family members and loved ones of those killed when the plane went down. Memorials, by their very essence, convey to us that the victims had lives that mattered. They were husbands and wives, parents and grandparents, sons and daughters. One cannot witness the grief and angst without understanding loss is universal.
The FBI’s Office of Victims Assistance supports a number of defined disasters, including domestic terrorism, international terrorism, and crimes on Native American reservations. Wherever in the world Americans are directly impacted by disasters, there is a team from the FBI that supports families and loved ones of the victims, particularly in the months and years ahead if there are criminal proceedings and updates on prosecution of perpetrators. Sometimes the contact may last for years, if criminals haven’t been caught, or if there are delays in bringing them to justice.
Sometimes there is a dedicated telephone number with updates or closed conference calls for families to use and ask questions. The Pan Am flight 103 Lockerbie bombers were protected by the Libyan government for decades until arrests could be made and prosecutions completed. The FBI continued to support and update the families of those killed.
For the Oklahoma City federal building bombing, the trial of Timothy McVey was held in Denver and closed-circuit television was established with families and relatives in Oklahoma who could not or would not travel to Colorado. These families could monitor the proceeding in private and with dignity and not be doubly faced by the media or others.
After the immediate needs—food, shelter, emotional support—have been met, there may be intermediate and long-term needs that linger for months or even years. What happens when one’s workplace has been destroyed? What happens when one’s home is flooded and uninhabitable? When does the disaster end? When housing becomes available again? When factories and schools reopen? When funds are raised for victims, survivors, and their families? How long will it take to receive the vital and necessary funds? How does one “put a price” on the loss of a loved one?
After 9/11, Kenneth Feinberg became the expert in calculating the distribution of funds collected. He was also selected as a consultant to the disbursement of Katrina Funds, Boston (Marathon) Strong, Deepwater Horizon, and other disaster donations. This was because he was considered to have done a fair job of an impossible task.
There were benefit calculations based upon many factors: age, previous income, potential future earnings, and many other issues. The matrix was complex, and at first, for the 9/11 families, few thought that putting a price on a life could be done fairly, when some would receive more and some would receive far lesser amounts. Not to mention the lawsuits and accepting the terms of fund payouts. If you accepted the money from the donated funds, you gave up your right to sue.
After one plane crash, an argument was made in court that the value of one man was somehow less because it was disclosed he was HIV positive and therefore was expected not to have a full and healthy life span. This ill-advised discrimination was dismissed in court, as HIV was a treatable illness and the attempt at making a “lifestyle” argument outraged human rights and social justice activists.
What about the long-term needs for trauma counseling and help with disabilities that were disaster related? After the Boston Marathon bombing, there would be long-term needs for survivors, many who lost limbs or mobility, as well as those who suffered with posttraumatic stress disorder. Many claims were beyond the resources of families profoundly impacted by the terrorist bombing and, for some, would continue throughout their lives.
A year after an event, many survivors find renewed purpose and dedicate themselves to helping and supporting others. Plane crash victims’ families seek to help those who lose loved ones in other plane crashes because they can relate to what others must be going through.
There are those who advocate for hiring those disabled by disasters as a simple matter of human justice and dignity. Many are still dealing with posttraumatic stress, but there are also those who are experiencing posttraumatic growth. Whether it is a survival mechanism, religious conversion experience, or other issue, disaster survivors have unique knowledge and experience that may prove helpful in the future to those experiencing similar horrors.
I encountered “spiritual EMTs” that came into being as a result of a loved one dying in a plane crash and their surviving family decided they wanted to do something to help others who would face the same situation in the future. It appeared that they were stuck in the past, the trauma of the crash and loss of a loved one and hadn’t moved on beyond telling their own story to loved ones of more recent disasters. They were not allowed access to family members of the victims because they were there for themselves and their own underresolved trauma. However, in rare cases, survivors of one disaster can be helpful to those enduring their own disaster.
As a friend, I was able to meet with a Boston Marathon runner who was “fine” in the days after the race and had finished the run well before the terrorist explosion. I said trauma was sneaky and that in the weeks ahead to be on the lookout for postdisaster trauma symptoms like sleeplessness and nightmares. Sure enough, these symptoms materialized in time. Counseling helped her, and she is still running the Boston Marathon. She is a success story because she took a fearless self-examination, knew she needed help, got it, and still runs today.
In Orlando, Victor Guanchez, who worked at the Pulse nightclub and was shot twice, was a recipient of a grant Orlando Fund set up to assist survivors of the massacre. Two years later, he realized his dream of owning a food truck bought with contributions from the fund and was present at the second anniversary commemoration of the attack, serving empanadas and tacos. Guanchez said that he never would have been able to realize his dream without the support for the victims and survivors of the mass shooting. He stated, “I hope they are proud of me.” The fund helped him turn a catastrophic situation into an opportunity for growth and positive change.
For years, I ran the New York Marathon, and six weeks after the September 11 attacks on our nation, I chose to run again. The personal impact of that day will remain with me the rest of my life. There was concern about safety and security of the marathon runners; out of 33,000 anticipated runners, only 22,000 showed up. I experienced that marathon as comradery and posttraumatic growth. I never felt in danger and was aware of immense security. It was sobering to see smoke still rising from Ground Zero. But there was no question that the marathon should not be cancelled. That’s when the terrorist(s) win, when routines and plans are changed to reflect fear of the future. I was comforted by the other runners and their personal resolve.
During and after anniversary commemorations, there will be ongoing needs for comfort that emotional and spiritual care managers and individuals will need to know about.
Not only do we need to know how to comfort but also where we will need to comfort. There have been major population shifts in recent years with massive numbers moving into harm’s way to places with more disaster-prone areas, primarily the South and Gulf Coast. For those doing long-term planning, there will be a need for more “comforters” where there have been dramatic population increases. More people will need more comfort not only after the disaster but also in the months and years ahead dealing with their disaster trauma. Every year at the September 11 anniversary commemorations, there are the same emotional and spiritual care comforters that were there from the first days. Each year the families can encounter the same chaplains that comforted them at the various assistance centers in the city and at the memorial itself.
Our nation is becoming more densely populated, more urban. When a shooting or weather event happens in a metropolitan setting, the shockwaves can impact not only the affected families but ancillary victims, too, who may also need support. For example, the small business owners in downtown Manhattan suffered severe economic stress after the World Trade Towers were struck.
Knowing someone has been shot in the neighbor resonates in urban settings. Gunshot trauma in the emergency room may impact those treating the victim, too. No matter how war scarred or beaten hospital personnel are, no matter how clinically detached and stoic doctors and nurses may be, with increasing urban violence, gunshots wound more than the victims.
Sometimes there is congestion or large numbers of people needing emotional and spiritual care. There is a need for more comfort in larger congregations of pain and suffering. We will need more comfort in the cities. Comfort can be found in nature, like in Central Park, or participation in the arts by visiting the theater or museum, or in religious congregations and community centers where the traditional as well as contemporary rituals take place.
Next, sensitivity to diversity will be a major comfort challenge. Our communities are more diverse, with so many languages and other cultural considerations that need to be respected. From Catholic Charities to Islamic Relief, faith-based and other organizations are responding to the long-term needs for new immigrants assimilating into communities in what has been described the “Salad Bowl” instead of the “Melting Pot.” This secular example respects essential cultural and language needs and concerns. One can’t comfort unless one respects the diversity and brings comfort in a form that can be understood by the recipient.
I comforted an orthodox Jewish woman whose husband had just died in the emergency room. I stayed with her, and she advocated for my presence as a comforter when members of her own community tried to dismiss me. She understood that I was the chaplain, and I was there for her and, for that time, exclusively concerned with helping her.
Those who comfort may experience greater compassion fatigue due to competing social needs versus disaster needs. Chronic homelessness impacts disaster shelter populations and has far more complex comfort needs particularly for emotional health issues. One shelter in the Bay Area of California had difficulties with meal services because few would stand in line for an orderly meal distribution. There is also the belief that disasters impact poor people more than those who have resources. Poor people may not have savings for that “rainy day.” Poor people may live in substandard housing that is more prone to destruction in extreme weather. Poor people may have health issues caused by lack of a proper diet and even air quality of more polluted environments.
With social media and continuous press coverage, there is an expectation from the public that people should be helped sooner and faster. Whether it is Twitter or Facebook, catastrophic disasters anywhere in the world can be instantly reported, and people are more aware of the pain and suffering of their neighbors. A social media blast may alert people immediately where people need help and comfort, but what about the year after? There may not be help, including comfort, immediately available, much less a year later. Where is the Red Cross, some may say, when they see the weather reporters leaning into the wind during the height of the storm. In Haiti, before sanitation and cholera became a long-term issue, people were texting the location of people trapped in fallen buildings seeking rescuers.
Disasters also wipe out precious infrastructure like roads and bridges therefore delaying resources including crisis counselors and comforters. In 2004, during the Florida hurricane cluster, Charley made parts of southwestern Florida unreachable. One damaged drug store was stunned to see a drug company representative arrive the day after the storm even though power had not been restored and many roads were impassible. A year later, people have tried to rebuild as best as they can, but many seek comfort in the small rural community institutions like the church. It is not unusual for worship services to be outdoors or next to the wrecked remains of a sanctuary. Many try to temporarily repair their own homes, but it is important to seek comfort in a devastated community’s worship service after the storm has passed. These blue-tarp cathedrals bolster a community’s resilience and hope for the future.
Many who seek to comfort may be readers of this book, first-timers, who want to volunteer to help meet the profound emergency needs of disaster victims including emotional and spiritual care. It is not only how to comfort but where to comfort those who may be newly isolated, injured, or dealing with the death of a family member or pet. Being there means somehow getting there, and volunteering with a reputable relief organization does make all the difference. Patience and flexibility are also essential, as unmet needs for comfort and support may last far beyond the first year, sometimes much, much longer. Some people never get over the trauma, but those who have been comforted might remember someone who sat with them during an anniversary gathering or other commemoration of the terrible disaster.
It is hard to think about long-term needs when there is an expectation that early needs take precedence. Yes, search and rescue are immediate needs, but a year after will there be those who can comfort those who spent days on a rooftop or clinging to a tree?
After September 11, there were designated funds for long-term counseling provided by Lutheran Social Services, to name one organization understanding the need for long-term counseling and comfort care. The funds lasted for several years before transitioning back to individual parishes in the city and region and the mental health services of the city. There were also funds for individual family members who lost close relatives in the disaster that were significant and could help those who needed further long-term counseling and comfort. But, for Hurricane Katrina, with over one million persons displaced, donations went to immediate needs like shelter and housing and transportation, so there were only modest grants like cash cards instead of large grants.
As I mentioned earlier, disaster needs are growing and that means comfort needs are increasing. What we learned from September 11 and Hurricane Katrina was that the scale and scope of the disasters were beyond comprehension and imagination of any disaster before. Government and the private sector may scramble for enough resources for one unimaginable event and may not be prepared for the “Big One.” With the increasing intensity of hurricanes and tornado damage, local support services may be continually overwhelmed with two or three major disasters occurring in one year. The public and private sectors must cooperate and collaborate to expand services including emotional and spiritual care: the need for comforting.
At my address in Nashville in 2008 at the National Disaster Medical System conference, I urged all to expand health and mental health services to include spiritual care providers who know how to comfort those traumatized by catastrophic events. The audience was composed of emergency managers, first responders, and specialized agencies and organizations that may have little familiarity with the clinical training of board-certified chaplains and others who know how to comfort. Remembering that the primary needs in a disaster are reliable information and reassurance, health, mental health, and spiritual care working together would provide thousands of new comfort volunteers and professional chaplains into the disaster arena and response.
Comfort is needed through all phases of a disaster from the first day to the first year. There is a need for cooperation between agencies and individuals facilitating the delivery of comfort services. Recognize that helping someone is not simply offering food and water and shelter and then sending them on their way. It is important to recognize the entire spectrum of needs from material goods to the intangibles of comfort care. This is what the National Voluntary Organizations Active in Disaster (which includes the American Red Cross) is good at and why they should be looked to as the so-called second responders after tragedies large and small.
Community leaders may be focused on getting public services reestablished and connected. They may not acknowledge the importance of “touchy-feely” things or delegate counseling to others. Leaders must advocate for emotional and spiritual care and the need and value of comforting.
Needs can be prioritized if one would simply listen to the survivors and victims. Using models of what was still needed in places as diverse as New Orleans, Orlando, and Puerto Rico, when the year anniversary has come and gone, will offer clues to what should be immediately put in place the next time any of this becomes unfortunately necessary. Many are asking why? They are also asking about their loved ones and pets. They are asking if the disaster event is over or will there be a secondary event, a second wave of terror. They are asking whether there will be a second explosion, wave, or quake that will do more harm. They are asking if they are safe and safe with us? They are asking for that same information and reassurance after a plane crash or natural disaster. They are asking for comfort.
Help assemble a visual document of the disaster event (photobook or scrapbook). This may be comforting to survivors and educational for future generations.
Attend a memorial on the first (or annual) anniversary. This could be a concert, a recital, a benefit, a scholarship—there are many possibilities.
Visit the cemetery with family and loved ones. It’s always good to offer.
Go on a pilgrimage to the 9/11 Memorial in New York, the Pentagon, or Shanksville. Take loved ones with you and explain to the young people why it’s important to remember and honor those lost.
Help plan and implement an anniversary ritual for those who may still be numb. Plan a memorial walk or run, reading of the names at an anniversary service, or spontaneous ritual as a way to commemorate a painful anniversary.
Help with financial needs. Start a GoFundMe appeal even one year later if necessary.
Is it time to replace a treasured pet? Start the conversation.
Go for a walk with the survivor or their loved ones.
Plant a tree on the first anniversary.
Help a child remember and be prepared to answer questions.