Miss Ann Says

thoughts from everyday life
Miss Ann Says
  • About Me & Media Bio:
  • Speaker/Writer
  • Tag: September 11

    • Exploring

      Posted at 10:27 am by missannsays, on June 30, 2021

      “Design a life you are inspired to live.” Annette White

      Yesterday was a different kind of day for me. I felt unburdened. Expect for a lunch date with a friend at 12:30pm, my morning was free. Yes, I had stuff I could’ve done but instead I decided to explore two 9/11 memorials.

      Empty Skies and Tear Drop memorials have been on my radar for years. Yesterday I finally visited both of them. They are actually fairly near each other – one at Liberty State Park and the other in Bayonne. Today I am going exploring.

      But first, I picked up a decaf iced coffee at a drive through DD that took longer than it should’ve. I am not sweating the small stuff today.

      The Tear Drop Memorial was a little tricky to find. I mean I drove past buildings being demolished, construction equipment, stuff that looked like the movie set for a murder mystery. My car doors were locked. Once I arrived at memorial it was all good. Tear Drop is impressive and gives great views of Lower Manhattan.

      The Tear Drop memorial’s official name is To the Struggle Against World Terrorism. I have included an article that explains the Memorial’s history and own struggles.

      https://www.thehistorygirl.com/2014/06/bayonne-nj-teardrop-monument.html?m=1

      A construction crew at the Empty Skies Memorial made taking photos without them difficult. Empty Skies is the official New Jersey memorial to the state residents killed on September 11, 2001. Easier to find than the Tear Drop memorial because it is in Liberty State Park right near the train station. Cool views of Lower Manhattan as well.

      It was strange that there were no crowds purchasing tickets to Ellis Island or the Statue of Liberty. I was grateful for clean restrooms in the train station. An interesting place to wander around. I love train stations.

      I did check my email as I pulled into the parking lot at Liberty State Park which lead to having to take care of an issue. But all in all I had a great morning exploring. When was the last time you went exploring? I highly recommend it.

      Posted in daily life, September 11 | 0 Comments | Tagged little things, September 11, travel
    • Hope vs Cope

      Posted at 4:02 pm by missannsays, on October 13, 2020

      I recently came across a blog post I had written for Laced With Grace back in October of 2016. I felt it was still relevant today so I tweaked it a little and decided to share it with you. My reference to Laurie’s post is to another LWG writers post just days before my original post.

      Laurie in her post Cast Your Cares so beautifully stated: “God does not want us to cope with our troubles, He said give it all to Him. The thing that I see happening whenever we try to cope is that we end up trying to accept things as they are, or we try to hang on for as long as we can. Coping is like a rope; given enough weight or pressure, it WILL break or unravel. Coping is nothing but a rope, just waiting for things (us) to come unraveled.” 

      What a great word picture. Laurie’s post resonated with me and reminded me of what God had taught me about the word cope. “How are you coping?” was the question asked numerous times by friends, neighbors and even reporters after my husband’s line of duty death on September 11, 2001 that same question in a slightly different form is still asked today. My response then and now is “I am not coping. I am hoping in the promises of God.” The whole situation was so overwhelming that I felt I had no choice but to hope instead of cope. There was nothing I could do.

      I think that we all have had circumstances in our lives when we think cope, are you kidding me?!? How do I cope when this is so unbelievable? As Laurie said “Coping is nothing but a rope.” To me coping is trying to hold on, believing that I can take care of things. Cope/can but God wants us to hope/Him. He wants us to trust Him. The difference is a single letter.

      Hoping in God’s promises means I believe that God will handle things for and with me that doesn’t mean I am not doing something but it means I am seeking wisdom from Him. An interesting side note, the word cope isn’t in most versions of the Bible. I can do a word search for hope or I can search His promises but a word search of cope yields no results.

      “So do not fear, for I am with you; do not be dismayed, for I am your God. I will strengthen you and help you; I will uphold you with my righteous right hand.” Isaiah 41:10 NIV


      “Never will I leave you; never will I forsake you.” Hebrews 13:5b NIV


      “I am the Alpha and the Omega,” says the Lord God, “who is, and who was, and who is to come, the Almighty.” Revelation 1:8 NIV


      “Trust in the LORD with all your heart and lean not on your own understanding; in all your ways submit to him, and he will make your paths straight.” Proverbs 3:5-6 NIV

      Many times, even if it is just in my head I have repeated the words to that old hymn My Hope is Built on Nothing Less.

      “My Hope is Built on Nothing Less”
      by Edward Mote, 1797-1874


      1. My hope is built on nothing less
      Than Jesus’ blood and righteousness;
      I dare not trust the sweetest frame,
      But wholly lean on Jesus’ name.
      On Christ, the solid Rock, I stand;
      All other ground is sinking sand.


      2. When darkness veils His lovely face,
      I rest on His unchanging grace;
      In every high and stormy gale
      My anchor holds within the veil.
      On Christ, the solid Rock, I stand;
      All other ground is sinking sand.


      3. His oath, His covenant, and blood
      Support me in the whelming flood;
      When every earthly prop gives way,
      He then is all my Hope and Stay.
      On Christ, the solid Rock, I stand;
      All other ground is sinking sand.


      4. When He shall come with trumpet sound,
      Oh, may I then in Him be found,
      Clothed in His righteousness alone,
      Faultless to stand before the throne!
      On Christ, the solid Rock, I stand;
      All other ground is sinking sand.

      Posted in Uncategorized | 1 Comment | Tagged Hope, September 11
    • A Free Day

      Posted at 8:00 am by missannsays, on September 11, 2020

      Once a month, Bruce and I sat with our calendars to coordinate life. I always ended that sit down with “No Surprises, let me know if it isn’t going to work, but no surprises.” As a mom, wife, small business owner, and church volunteer, I prided myself on being organized, prepared, in control of my life. 

      It was supposed to be get-a-few-things-done type of day. With my two daughters back in school, my firefighter husband on duty, and one more week until fall classes resumed at my dance studio, I was free to do as I pleased. The day started as most days did. To be able to ease into my day instead of being thrown into it I got up an hour before my daughters, to shower, let the dog out, get my thoughts together, and have my cup of tea.

       At 6:30am, Meghan staggered into the kitchen, arms at her sides, head down, still half asleep and stood in front of me for her morning hug and kiss on the forehead. At fourteen, Meghan was almost as tall as I was at 5’10”. Meghan, my second born and polar opposite of her older sister, wasn’t a morning person but watch out later in the day she became a force to be reckoned with.  

      Weeks earlier after freshmen orientation, Meghan had declared “By the time I have been at high school a month, everyone will know who I am. I kept asking if anyone knew Emily, and no one did. They are going to know me.” I didn’t doubt that for a moment. 

      Emily, my 17-year-old reserved, attentive child was starting her senior year and negotiated her schedule to allow for early dismissal. Bruce and I informed her that early dismissal required her to volunteer somewhere or get a part time job.

      “Mom, don’t forget I have that Red Cross meeting this evening. Are we coming home before that?”

      “Probably not. We’ll run errands or visit Nanny & Poppy” 

      Meghan chimed in “What’s happening to me?” 

      “Still sorting that out. Daddy will probably bring you home. Let’s go girls.”

      The target time to leave the house each school day was 7:15am. My daughters attended Eastern Christian High School in North Haledon, New Jersey – which was thirty miles away so driving them to school wasn’t simply around the corner or down the block or the other side of town. It was over the river and through the woods to another state we go. Even though school was miles from home, it was near to my studio making me available for drop offs, pick-ups and emergencies during the day. 

                  As I turned into the circular driveway, I commented “Make sure you have all of your stuff. Em, I’ll see you at early dismissal time. Meg, I’ll see you at regular time. Have a good day. Love you.”

                  Next stop, my dance studio to quickly check the mail, and answering machine messages, and then home for my free morning. Can’t wait. Finding nothing that needed my attention, I got in my car to leave and the radio came on.

       “…a small plane has flown into the World Trade Center.” 

      As I put the car into reverse, looked over my shoulder and backed up the radio news anchor continued.

      “…a second plane has hit the World Trade Center” 

       What? I pulled back into the parking space and sat a moment. I turned up the volume.   Maybe that Nelson Demille book I just read is really happening – pilots are being blinded. No, that’s not possible!

                  Home seemed like where I needed to be. I was operating on auto-pilot. As I merged onto Route 208, the FDNY issued a total recall. 

      “All firefighters report for duty.”

       I knew the FDNY doesn’t call firefighters into work via the radio. This was bad, really bad. We must be at war but with whom? As I drove my thoughts were more on what the news reports than on the road, thankfully I had driven this route so many times that I think my muscle memory knew it better than my mind. The radio continued to drone on and I started to pray. Lord, protect Bruce. Bring him home. I knew he would be sent down there. 

      Bruce was a firefighter in a Special Operations Command (SOC) unit, a Squad. Squad 41 to be exact. Squad 41 ventured into Manhattan from the Bronx on a regular basis. I’ve joked that firefighters in Squads (and Rescues) do things they don’t tell their wives. It is bad enough that your firefighter husband runs into burning buildings. You don’t want to know he hung from a building, crawled around in a confided space, or suffered exposure to a biohazard all in the name of an average day in a Squad or Rescue Unit.      

      When I arrived home, I threw my purse on the chair, grabbed the remote, plopped down on the couch as I turned on the television. The news professionals appeared as rattled and puzzled as I was. The images were baffling and then reports out of Washington, DC. What, now? The images of a plane crashing into the Pentagon flashed on the screen. I started to pray again. Lord, please protect my country. Please protect New York City.

       I paced, pleaded, prayed, and the television kept reporting additional events. One of the twin towers collapsed; another plane crashed in Pennsylvania; the other tower collapsed. 

       I remembered in the Old Testament how Abraham prayed for a city to be saved. He asked God if there were one hundred righteous people to save the city and worked down to ten people and finally one person. I figured I had no time to waste so I prayed if there was one righteous person in New York City, please save my city. I suggested to God that Dr. Mucci, District Superintendent for the Church of Nazarene, would probably qualify as the one person. 

                  I was worried that my brother or brother-in-law might be traveling for business or be in New York City. I tried to make several calls to my parents in New Jersey and sister in New York. No calls would go through. 

      “All circuits are busy, please try again later.”

      Suddenly my house phone rang.

                  “Mom, where is Daddy?” It was Emily. 

      “I don’t know.” I must hold it together until Bruce is home. “I don’t expect to hear from Daddy. He doesn’t usually call when he is on duty. We’ll call the firehouse later if we haven’t heard from him by the time he is off duty. Okay? Find your sister and I’ll pick you both up at early release time. I love you. See you in a little while.” 

      People have asked me why didn’t I get my girls from school when I first heard about the attacks? Why drive all the way home? To be honest, it never dawned on me to get them from school. I think I believed that if the girls were at school, Bruce was on duty and I was at my dance studio or home, it was all normal. And I desperately needed for it to be normal. For it to be all right.        

                   The phone rang again. 

      “Hi, it’s Barbara. Is Bruce on duty?” 

      It was my sister who I hadn’t spoken to in a very long time. Since Barbara lived in California, I guess we had never mentioned the house rule of not calling to ask me if Bruce was on duty when you hear of a fire on the television or radio. Who would have thought she would know about a fire in NYC?  I was grateful to hear her voice.  Bruce will be so surprised that Barbara called. I can’t wait to tell him.

                  My thoughts of getting something done or being free to do as I pleased were forgotten. I wasn’t sure what I should do. The television didn’t seem to have any new information. I couldn’t make phone calls. As much as I wanted to be home earlier, being home now felt isolating. It wasn’t even early release time, so I couldn’t pick up Emily and Meghan, or so I thought.  

      I decided to drive back to the studio to see Carol, my best friend and business partner. She is “my person.” We can talk for hours, or we sit with a cup of tea and not say a word. Through life’s mountains and valleys, she’s walked with me. We double dated in our teens and twenties. We stood up for each other when we got married. When I started my business, New School of Dance Arts, Carol taught for me. After the first year, I asked her if she wanted to be my business partner. At the time, there were one hundred dollars in the studio checkbook. I told her if she matched the hundred dollars, we would be equal partners in the business. Her hubby, Tony, calls us “partners in crime.” Tony and many others chuckled at our lack of business savvy “that’s not how you buy into a business,” but Carol and I’ve been business partners since 1976 so I guess we’ve done something right.

                  I retraced the same route I had driven earlier. But this time, as I approached the top of Skyline Drive, I noticed there were cars parked on the shoulder. People standing outside their cars. What are they doing?  As the road reached the crest of the mountain, my question was answered. The New York City skyline came into view. Looking far to the right, you can usually see Lower Manhattan. Instead, there was a big cloud of smoke where the buildings had been. Had I seen the towers earlier? 

                  I entered the studio to find Carol sitting at the table with brochures, registration forms, and schedules arranged in front of her. 

      “Your Dad called more than once. He wants you to call him,” were the first words out of her mouth.

       I put my purse on the gymnastic mats and reached for the wall phone. A brief conversation with my Dad ended with a promise to stop by after I had picked up the girls. Carol and I discussed all that we knew about the attacks. We switched gears to focus on studio stuff -what classes we needed to confirm, cancel, etc. 

        “I will call you when I hear from Bruce.” I walked out the door. Not realizing that I wouln’t walk back through that door until Monday, October 1 when classes finally began.

                  Over the last three years, I had regularly dropped Emily off or picked her up at school but rarely entered the building. Having been an ever-present parent during Emily’s preschool and elementary school days (I taught at the same preschool and elementary school she attended), I had made the conscience decision to step back and allow Emily to be her own person minus the role of Miss Ann’s daughter. But today, like so many other things, that changed. I went into the front office.

                  “Hi, I am Ann Van Hine. Emily has early release. I also want to sign out Meghan.”

                  “Of course, let me see what class Meghan is in. Emily should be heading this way to sign out.”    

      The ride to my parents’ house was full of questions with no answers but assurances of love and faith. We arrived at my parents’ home nine miles away to find my Dad sitting at the far side of the dining room table giving the impression he was holding court. My Mom, not thrilled with my Dad’s favorite spot, wanted her table back for meals, but it had become his desk. Dad tried to reassure my girls that Bruce couldn’t have gotten from the Bronx to Lower Manhattan before the towers collapsed. My Dad is an engineer and physicist so thinking things through logically was what he did but even as my Dad explained his reasoning, I knew he was wrong. My Dad wasn’t tuning into the fact that Bruce, in a Squad, would have been dispatched earlier rather than later. 

      Days later, my Dad mentioned that he hadn’t considered the Squad dynamic and asked, “Why didn’t you correct me?” 

      “I couldn’t correct you in front of the girls.”

      Emily and I discussed the Red Cross meeting. She called to see if it was still on. The answer was no. We hung out a little longer. Then decided to head home. As I drove up Route 17, in my rearview mirror for a brief moment I saw the New York City skyline. I saw the smoke, and mentally, I willed my girls not to turn around. When we got home, we turned the television on for a short time. We tried to do our daily routine. Time slowed or stopped or something, but was not moving as in a normal day.

                  By the late afternoon, I spoke with my sister-in-law, Bobbie, Bruce’s sister. She was at my mother-in-law’s home in South Jersey about three hours away. One of my greatest fears had been how would I tell Bruce’s mom something happened to him? My father-in-law died ten years prior. My mother-in-law lived alone, and Bobbie lived in Kansas, but on September 11, 2001 Bobbie just happened to be in New Jersey for a friend’s wedding. So as all this happened my 82-year-old mother-in-law was not alone. Thank you, Lord.

      Around 7:00pm, I went into my bedroom to call Squad 41. The answering machine picked up. I left a message “Please have Bruce Van Hine call his wife.” I didn’t wait long before I called again. “Please have anyone call Bruce Van Hine’s wife.” 

      I called my folks. I told my Dad that no one was answering the phone at Squad 41. When my ever-calm Dad said, “Call every number you have for the New York City Fire Department until you reach a human being.” I was freaked. I grabbed the FDNY phone list off the back of the basement door and headed to my bedroom out of ear shot of my girls. I glanced down at the list, saw Bronx and dialed Bronx Dispatch. The firefighter who answered explained that this was the number to report fires and kindly suggested that I keep calling Squad 41. 

      Eventually I got through to someone at Squad 41 who said “No one is here. They went to look for them. They will be in touch when they get back.” This can’t be happening. 

                  Around 10:00pm I decided we should all get some sleep so Emily, Meghan and our 130 lb. Rottweiler, Buster, piled into my bed. I had a feeling that someone was coming to the house and didn’t want to be in my pajamas, so I stayed dressed. I laid with my girls until they were asleep. Then I got up. 

      I paced, prayed and made a cup of tea. Growing up a “cup of tea” was the quick fix for whatever was happening. A cup of tea could calm you down or cheer you up. My Mom is British so making tea was a ritual. I followed that ritual as I boiled water, heated the pot, steeped the tea and placed the tea cozy over the pot. I poured the milk in the cup first, added one sugar and poured the brewed tea. I sat on the couch cradling my warm cup of tea in my hands and waited for what I didn’t know, but I waited. 

                  At a little before midnight, I heard a car pull up, a car door close and then another. Even though the street light allowed me a glimpse of who was heading to my house through one of the three small windows in my front door, I decided I didn’t want to know. I held my breath and sat perfectly still. Maybe they aren’t coming here. Please don’t be coming here. There was a light knock on the side door. Whoever it is knows we use the side kitchen door instead of the front door. Standing outside were two men – Charlie who was Bruce’s lieutenant and another firefighter, the identity of that firefighter changes in my memory. 

                  I positioned myself between the kitchen and living room leaning with my shoulder against the doorway. Hopefully the house will hold me up if they say something bad. Polite greetings and then silence. I couldn’t stand the suspense “Just say it.”

      Charlie whispered, “They are unaccounted for.” 

        Unaccounted for? wait? what?

                  In an almost out of body experience I heard myself say “I have no doubt God can get me through this, but I don’t want to go through this.”  

      I don’t want to. How many times through the years had my own kids and my students said those exact same words? How many times had I chimed in “most of life has nothing to do with what you want to do? I don’t want to pay taxes or do laundry, but I do.” 

      There wasn’t a sense of dread. Just a sense of this is really happening. Now what? Charlie, the other firefighter and I sat at the kitchen table as Charlie filled me in on what they knew which wasn’t much. Charlie offered assistance, a prayer, a hug and they left. 

      I locked the door and tiptoed down the hallway towards my bedroom. I hoped and prayed that the girls were asleep and hadn’t heard the exchange with Charlie. They seemed to be asleep, so I went back into the kitchen to make a few calls. 

       I called Debbie who is a pastor but first and foremost, one of my best friends. I asked her to contact Pastor Steve and other friends in the morning. As we spoke I glanced out the window and noticed a man walking down the street. There was a moment I wondered if it was real and commented to Debbie “there is a guy walking down the street.” It reminded me of a scene from a movie – the late hour, the single streetlight glowing. It felt eerie. Years later in conversation Debbie mentioned the guy walking down the street and added “I think it was Bruce checking on things.”

                   I called my parents. Shared what I knew. 

      “We’ll drive up.”

       “No, it’s too late. Come tomorrow. I’m okay. Love you.”

      I checked on my daughters again and realized Emily was awake. I motioned to her to come into the living room. We sat on the living room floor. Within moments Meghan and the dog appeared in the doorway. They joined us on the floor. 

      “Charlie was here. Daddy is unaccounted for.”

      We cried. 

      We hugged. 

      We prayed. 

      We got back in bed. 

      Once the girls were asleep I got up again. I made another pot of tea.

      “Sorrow lasts for a night but joy cometh in the morning” kept running through my head. I needed to see the sun rise. I waited for the new day. I waited for the darkness to be replaced by light. I waited until the sun had risen and then I laid down to sleep. There was another day…

      Excerpt from No Surprises: navigating tragedy with faith, family and the FDNY.

      Posted in Uncategorized | 1 Comment | Tagged September 11
    • we have a problem…

      Posted at 6:00 pm by missannsays, on September 10, 2020

      Frank Culbertson’s view on September 11, 2001 was unique to him. He was the only American on the International Space Station. You can find his story at https://www.nasa.gov/topics/nasalife/features/sept11.html.

      Every one of us in the 9/11 community has a unique perspective and story. Even if you aren’t a member of that community, I bet you have a story of that day.

      As this September 11 approaches, I have found myself to be a little more weepy than in the past. At first I thought it was because this is usually a tough time of year and well, 2020 has been quite the year. But what I realized today after reading a friend’s FB post, is my sadness comes from my fear that it will be difficult for my grandchildren or any child to believe that there was a time when we were one. One nation. After the September 11 attacks, we came together. We connected instead of cursed. We held out our hands to lift each other up instead of knock each other down. Don’t get me wrong I know there are many things that need to be fixed and changed. The pandemic has shown us what wasn’t working – healthcare, childcare, the care of the marginalized, who are the essential workers and how do we pay and treat them to name but a few. I know I see all of this from a place of privilege but my heart aches with the thought that if a terrorist attack happened today we wouldn’t survive as a nation.

      “and a splintered household will not be able to stand, for it is divided.” Mark 3:25 TPT

      “For now we see but a faint reflection of riddles and mysteries as though reflected in a mirror, but one day we will see face-to-face. My understanding is incomplete now, but one day I will understand everything, just as everything about me has been fully understood. Until then, there are three things that remain: faith, hope, and love—yet love surpasses them all. So above all else, let love be the beautiful prize for which you run.” 1 Corinthians 13:12-13 TPT

      I am sending hugs, love and prayers to the 9/11 community. A big thank you to family and friends who were there nineteen years ago and those who joined the journey along the way. I am grateful even though my heart aches.

      “But he’s already made it plain how to live, what to do,
          what God is looking for in men and women.
      It’s quite simple: Do what is fair and just to your neighbor,
          be compassionate and loyal in your love,
      And don’t take yourself too seriously—
          take God seriously.” Micah 6:8 The Message

      Posted in Uncategorized | 0 Comments | Tagged September 11
    • 09/09/2001

      Posted at 3:00 pm by missannsays, on September 9, 2020

      I felt the mattress shift as Bruce got out of bed. Nap time can’t be over yet. I rolled over and heard his voice.

      “I am so blessed.”

      I opened my eyes and replied, “Why.”

      He reached for his Squad 41 polo shirt, “I’m married to Miss Ann.”

      I chuckled, grabbed the edge of the sheet and sat up. “Some people wouldn’t consider that a perk.”

      He smiled and continued, “We have two great kids.”

      “That’s true.” 

      He sat on the edge of the bed to put his shoes on, “We got the trailer. We had a great summer.”

      “Yes, we did.” After years of tent and pop-up camping, the trailer was a welcome step up. The weeks of summer flew by with a trip to Indianapolis, volunteering at kid’s camp, and attending family camp allowing for plenty of family time. The girls volunteering for an extra week after teen camp gave Bruce and I a sense of just us time. A taste of what the future would be like. 

      He gave me a quick kiss on the cheek and left for the firehouse. He was working a 24 – Sunday night to Monday night and then making up a tour on Tuesday. Spending Monday night at the firehouse was the plan as it meant less driving and why come home to sleep and then head back in. 

      Bruce called on Monday night, but I don’t remember that conversation. I remember so vividly our conversation as he got dressed. I, too, could echo his words “I am so blessed.

      ”Excerpt from No Surprises: navigating tragedy with faith, family and the FDNY. 

      Posted in Uncategorized | 2 Comments | Tagged September 11
    • Teaching 9/11

      Posted at 12:34 pm by missannsays, on August 23, 2019

      Eighteen years out from the attacks many of this year’s college freshmen were born after September 11, 2001. 9/11 is in the history books but we lived it. Please take the time to share your story with the children and young people in your life. Of course being age appropriate and focusing on the way people helped people and what helped you.

      Through volunteering with the 911 Tribute Museum, I have spoken to many students. Some of them while standing in their classrooms, or via the internet, or when they visited the 911 Tribute Museum with their school or parents. It is always a joy to interact with students but it is an incredibly taunting experience. I want them to learn of the September 11 attacks, the rescue and rebuilding but I don’t want them to be afraid or to hate. I wish there was nothing to teach them.

      In the past couple of months, two families on my walking tour included children who had asked their parents to visit the Memorial Plaza. One was a nine year old girl from New Jersey who had read I Survived The Attacks Of September 11 by Lauren Tarshis. We had a lovely conversation after the tour about that book. I told her I had met a young man who had skipped school on September 11 and got a bigger adventure than he bargained for. Another was an eighth grader from the midwest who learned about 9/11 in school and asked if this year their family vacation could be to NYC instead of Disney World. Thank you kiddos for wanting to come and thank you parents for bringing them.

      There is also a disturbing thing that has happened in the past couple of months. Twice after telling my personal story in the 911 Tribute Museum galleries young men have approached me to engage in a conversation about conspiracy theories. I am glad they are thinking and questioning but know your sources. The internet is an amazing tool but let’s be careful out there.

      Below are some links to resources and other posts I have written about my experiences teaching. Any questions, please reach out to me via the comment section or FB Miss Ann Says page.

      https://missannsays.com/?s=channeling+Corrie+Ten+Boom

      https://missannsays.com/2016/10/24/2395/

      https://missannsays.com/2015/09/09/teaching-children-about-september-11-2001/

      Lesson plans for teachers:

      https://www.911day.org/lesson-plans

      https://teaching911.911tributemuseum.org

      https://www.911memorial.org/lesson-plans

      Books:

      https://www.scholastic.com/teachers/books/i-survived-the-attacks-of-september-11-2001-by-lauren-tarshis/

      https://www.commonsensemedia.org/lists/kids-books-about-911

      https://www.romper.com/p/8-childrens-books-about-september-11-to-educate-kids-about-the-tragedy-gently-11864777

      Documentaries – different pieces of the story:

      The Trees by Scott Elliot available on Amazon and other streaming services.
      Full disclosure I am in this documentary

      On September 11, 2019, You Are Here a Canadian documentary about the planes landing in Gander, Newfoundland will be shown all over the USA for the first and maybe only time. https://www.fathomevents.com/events/you-are-here

      Two interesting books on the Gander 9/11 story are:

      The Day the World Came to Town: 9/11 in Gander, Newfoundland by Jim DeFede.

      Channel of Peace: Stranded in Gander on 9/11 by Kevin Tuerff.

      Come from Away is a Broadway musical on the same subject. it is excellent.

      Posted in Uncategorized | 0 Comments | Tagged 911 Tribute Museum, September 11, telling the next generation
    • Kids and roses

      Posted at 4:22 pm by missannsays, on October 24, 2016

      Last month I had the opportunity to speak in a sixth grade history class in Saddle Brook, NJ. I “enjoy” speaking to students especially middle school students as they ask the best questions. I am pretty sure the high schoolers I speak with have questions but they aren’t as willing to ask.I am confident if they could text me, there would be more questions. Anyway back on September 27, I was fortunate to be able to spend over an hour with two groups of students meeting as one. The teacher had done an excellent job teaching her classes about September 11, 2001. The students had interviewed their parents or other adults. They had lots of questions, lots of good questions, lots of thought provoking questions about the attacks, the terrorist, the Memorial, the Museum. I could definitely tell that their teacher had prepared them for a visitor. 
      I had mentioned that after the September 11 line of duty death of my husband, my daughters had asked me three questions. “Will we still live in this house?” “Can we still go to Eastern Christian High School?” “What will happen when we get married?” I shared my responses with the students “as far as I am able we will stay in this house. I will also try to make sure that you can continue at EC. And currently neither of you have boyfriends so we don’t have to worry yet about when you get married.” There was a giggle from the students. I also mentioned to the students that through the generosity of many people I never paid tuition for Emily’s senior year or all four of Meghan’s high school years. I never paid for a field trip, yearbook or prom. I explained to them how simple kindnesses and generosities have helped me, my daughters and so many others. I also said my daughters are married and I have photos I can show them if they would like to see me when I am finished speaking. As my time with the class ended the teacher gave me a beautiful bouquet of yellow roses, I thanked her, the students applauded and with what seemed to be a great sense of urgency one little arm shot up. “Yes.” I asked. “Can we see the photos of your daughters’ weddings?” asked a smiling sixth grade girl. “I glanced at the teacher, she nodded yes and a dozen girls moved forward so they could see the photos. 😊

      Yesterday two boys at church gave me gifts they had purchased for me while on their recent family trip to FL. The one gift was a Mickey Mouse mug with a spoon. To quote the gift giver “if you cut the twist ties, you can remove the spoon and use it stir your drink.” I commented “thank you. I love the shape of the mug.” The gift giver responded “I liked that too. You don’t see square mugs to often.” I smiled because this exchange was so this child’s personality. His brother gave me a single Lego rose. It took my breath away. I almost started to cry. It is perfect and everything about it reminds me of the child who gave it to me. 
      I am so blessed to be able to teach children in all different arenas (Tribute Center, dance class and church) and sometimes I am super blessed to receive roses (and mugs) as well. 😉

      N

      Posted in Uncategorized | 1 Comment | Tagged kid stuff, September 11, telling the next generation
    • We never called it Ground Zero

      Posted at 8:00 am by missannsays, on September 12, 2016

      As we walk diagonally across the Memorial, Steven* in true gentlemanly fashion is carrying the bag containing the head sets. On this walking tour, I am the lead docent and Steven is my support person.  Steven is new to the program and is a little apprehensive but when he speaks of “his guys” you hear and see his passion and expertise. You see the firefighter. It makes me smile how the firefighters Steven included always try to take care of me. I have carried that bag back to the Tribute Center many times through the ten years I have been volunteering.  I appreciate the gesture. I am grateful but I am capable. I am not the “little FDNY widow”.  In reality, Steven is actually shorter than I am and we are about the same age.

      The Memorial is busy. There is a gentle buzz of activity.  I notice faces of visitors from many nations, hear softly spoken words, see tears being wiped, selfies being snapped and the sound of the south waterfall. As we walk along Steven suddenly comments “We (FDNY) never called it Ground Zero.”  We stop walking and I nod in agreement. The media said Ground Zero and to me that term Ground Zero always brought the image of a red and white target.  Steven continues “We called it the Pile and as we got lower we called it the Pit.”

      The Pile I had seen that for myself on September 28, 2001.  I remember that massive hole (the Pit) in the ground from when I started volunteering at the Tribute Center in 2006. We continue walking and I add “and now it is the Plaza.” He nods in agreement.

      Our conversation confirms in my mind something I had been pondering for a while, this place and I had been on parallel journeys since September 11, 2001. The World Trade Center which I had only visited twice before the attacks had become a travel companion. We had weathered the attacks, sorted through the debris, filled the void and remembered those we lost as we continued on.

      *name has been changed

       

      Posted in Uncategorized | 1 Comment | Tagged 9/11 Tribute Center, little things, NYC, September 11
    • Familiar but foreign

      Posted at 8:50 pm by missannsays, on August 29, 2016

      IMG_3345

       

      It was my third trip to Japan in four years. Japan is a place that feels familiar but foreign to me. This trip was similar but different. I visited some of the same destinations as I had in 2013 and 2014 but also some new ones. To me the main thing that had changed since 2014 was the sense of a new normal. There wasn’t as much uncertainty as to what the future holds. Rebuilding is underway, memorials have been established, possibilities of moving back are on the calendar, sharing of stories has begun. This trip was far more about being ears to listen than being a storyteller. It was far more about I am only a half step further down the road from my disaster after fifteen years than you are after your disaster five years ago. This trip was about resilience.

      In future blog posts I will explain more of what I experienced and learned on yet another life changing trip to Japan.  Below is the information I received before the trip from our organizers. 

      5th International Outreach Program for School Children and Community Survivors of

      3/11 Great East Japan Disasters

      Back Ground: Now more than five years after the 3.11 Great East Japan Earthquake, still 170,000 evacuees from disaster stricken areas with 99,000 evacuees from radiation contamination continue to suffer the consequences (3/4/2016 report by Reconstruction Agency). In particular, children’s emotional well being is concerning as they continue to be displaced away from their communities and show signs of emotional stress.

      Goals: We wish to empower school communities with self-motivation toward recovery by showing concrete examples of resilience and people overcoming disasters.

      Sadako’s Soaring Crane: Together with American Airlines, we brought an origami crane monument fabricated out of steel recovered from 9/11 on our 1st mission in 2012. This symbol for recovery from the international community dedicated for children’s comfort was inspired by Sadako Sasaki, who died at age 12 from radiation exposure after the bombing of Hiroshima. Sadako’s origami cranes was previously donated to the 9/11 Tribute Center and we made a symbolic return of Sadako’s wish for peace and comfort for children. KyodoNews

      Children’s Storybook: We have published a children’s storybook of late 12-year-old girl’s story about strength and courage to move forward and how Sadako’s Soaring Crane monument came to Fukushima. This storybook is touted as a “book of life” and “Hiroshima–NY–Fukushima connected with hope.” We have donated more than 10,000 copies of storybooks to school children in Fukushima. The story will continue to touch the kids around the world.

      Impact of Survivor Exchange Program: We continue to gauge the impact of post-3/11 outreach efforts on both the 3/11 “recipient” community and the 9/11 “donor” community. The success of this outreach program may be partially attributable to the fact that it meets the basic objectives of psychological first aid to “establish human connection in a non intrusive, compassionate manner”; “support positive coping and empower survivors to take an active role in recovery”; and “facilitate continuity and ensure other sources of support when leaving.”

      Posted in Uncategorized | 0 Comments | Tagged 9/11 Tribute Center, Japan, little things, September 11, telling the next generation
    • Japan 2016

      Posted at 10:57 am by missannsays, on August 16, 2016

      244Back at the end of May just days before the email appeared in my inbox, my daughter randomly asked “is the Tribute Center doing a trip to Japan this year?” I replied “They are but I am not sure who is going?” And then on June 5  the email appeared “would you like to be part of the fifth trip to Japan?” Wow! I can’t believe I am invited to be part of this amazing team again. When I was invited the first time in 2013, my daughters’  said “Mom, this is a once in a lifetime opportunity. Go for it. ” A year later when I was invited again, my daughters’ commented “wow, most people don’t get their once in a lifetime trip twice!” This time when I mentioned I was invited they commented something along the lines of “so what dates are you going to Japan again?”

      The my third trip is now over and I will be posting about that. In the meantime if you would like to catch up on the past trips, here are the links to some of those posts.

      https://missannsays.com/2013/08/06/travel-tuesdays-s1e16-japan/

      https://missannsays.com/2013/08/20/travel-tuesdays-s1e18-japan-lost-in-translation/

      https://missannsays.com/2013/08/27/travel-tuesday-s1e19-japan-phds-mds/

      https://missannsays.com/2014/08/30/japan-2014-part-1/

      https://missannsays.com/2014/09/03/japan-2014-part-4/

       

      Posted in Uncategorized | 0 Comments | Tagged 9/11 Tribute Center, little things, September 11, travel
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