GILLETTE — The past couple of years have been rough for Courtney Hampleman.
She’s fresh out of what she described as a toxic marriage that caused great stress and anxiety in her life. Now at age 44, she’s facing a new chapter. Finally, she feels optimistic about life for the first time in years.
Along the way, she had a lot of people worried about her, Hampleman said, including her guardian angels who have long since passed but live on in spirit.
This includes her grandfather, who was a big part of her life up until his death.
He was the guy who got up before the sun to bake homemade muffins for her and her office mates at the Wyoming Department of Family Services. He knew they had a tough job and wanted to do something nice for them.
There was also Penny Spidle, a woman she met during the summer she worked at Black Thunder Coal Mine as a college student. Penny took her under her wing and became like a second mother. She died of cancer eight years ago.
Although they are gone, Hampleman wishes she could tell them not to worry about her anymore.
“I'm working on getting myself back on a good path, the right track,” she said. "And I want to tell them that I want them to be proud of me and that I’ll see them one day.”
Now, to get that message through to them ...
Phoning In
There are many ways people try to talk to the dead. Some speak in silence with hands folded in prayer while others hold vigil in the dark comfort of a car under the glow of dashboard lights while driving down a lonely highway.
Some conversations are tear-filled apologies of unsaid words or solemn remembrances where there are no good words, or like Hampleman, an opportunity to check in and share fond memories.
Her guardian angels are never far from Hampleman’s thoughts, which is why she was intrigued when she heard that Nicole Schatz, a Gillette-based therapist and owner of Sacred Start counseling, had just installed the state’s first Wind Phone in a downtown Gillette park.
The Wind Phone is literally just that: a disconnected, non-functioning, red push-button phone that looks oddly retro in the era of smart devices and wildly out of place cradled in its wooden nook next to a park bench.
Schatz can’t recall exactly when she learned of Wind Phones but thought it was a great idea and wanted to install one in her community.
She chose Memorial Park, partly for its reverent name, but also because of its peaceful setting and downtown location where many people work and shop.
Words In The Wind
There’s a serenity to the lone phone sitting in its cradle in a quiet pocket park sandwiched between two houses on a residential street.
One would easily pass the park if they didn’t know it was there, but it’s a small sanctuary of solitude in an otherwise busy town.
A cobblestone path meanders through a grassy green space shrouded by trees with well-spaced park benches, a picnic table, bench swing and covered patio. The phone is housed in a wooden box next to one of the two benches within easy reaching distance.
A sign above the chrome-plated handle explains the phone’s purpose.
The idea is to place a simple old-fashioned telephone in a quiet space to inspire reflection and allow a person to pick up the receiver, dial a number or not, and speak freely to a loved one to share memories or grief without judgment.
“The Wind Phone holds no religious connotation — it is an invitation to look inward, to reflect on all the things that want to be said,” the sign reads.
Metaphorically, the phone connects the living and the dead, so visitors can feel a connection to their loved ones as their words are carried by the wind.
The original idea is the brainchild of Japanese garden designer Itaru Sasaki, who created the first Wind Phone in 2010 in Otsuchi, Japan, in his garden overlooking the Pacific Ocean as a means of coping with the death of his cousin.
It’s a concept that has since been duplicated all over the world and nationally with 403 Wind Phones scattered around the U.S.
Anyone can install a phone, Schatz said, though you’re asked to register it at the “My Wind Phone,” a website created by a Florida woman who installed her phone in memory of her daughter who died in April 2020.
The phone in Gillette is the first in Wyoming. It appears to be catching on in Rocky Mountain states, where there are two in Montana, five in Idaho and at least a dozen in Colorado.
Grief Everywhere
Schatz, who offers grief counseling in addition to other counseling services, uses the phone to talk to her mother and others. She lost her mom at age 23, and due to her mother’s long-term battles with alcohol and diabetes, grew up being her caretaker.
This and other factors led to a traumatic childhood for the now 40-year-old wife and mother, who said she had to grapple with her own grief and anger as an adult.
As a therapist, she said grief seems to be a predominant theme across all ages. Whether grief of a loved one’s death, the loss of a friend or relationship, divorce, suicide or a terminal cancer diagnosis.
“I always see grief,” Schatz said, “and I thought the Wind Phone was one way of helping people process it in a place of privacy and peace.”
With the idea in hand, Schatz asked her husband to build three wooden boxes while she searched for phones online and in thrift stores. She then approached officials with the city Parks Department with her idea, who were immediately on board to help locate places to install the phones.
She’s now looking for homes for the remaining two. She has polled the community on social media for possible locations. Her posts are getting attention, including from someone in South Dakota who has inquired as to what it would take to install one.
Schatz said no formal process is needed, though anyone creating one is asked to register the phone and provide a precise location so people can find them on the map.
Disconnected But Working
There’s something oddly healing about sitting in a quiet space with your thoughts, Schatz noted, even if technically there’s no one on the other end of that call.
“I think what needs to be felt is the silence and checking in with ourselves in that moment,” she said. “Even if we don’t hear or get answers or have the voice on the other end, it’s okay to be present in the moment and okay to feel that way even if it’s sad or hard.”
Though uncomfortable, sometimes it’s what a person’s brain, body and heart need, she added.
“We don’t practice the pause enough,” she said. “We’re really good at doing but not being.”
Schatz encourages her clients to use the phone and even brought her children with her one day to speak to their grandmother. Other times, they’ve made a playlist of songs they think Schatz’s mother would like and played them into the headset.
“Grief is a process,” she said, and she encourages people to just come sit by the phone if they’re not ready to pick up the receiver.
Schatz said she believes the symbolic concept of speaking to deceased loved ones is something that resonates with the community, and she’s always pleased when she passes the park and sees someone speaking on the phone.
Direct Line
Like many people, Hampleman had never heard of Wind Phones and thought she would try it out on a quiet Sunday afternoon.
At first she felt a bit self-conscious about picking up the phone, so she sat in silence in the quiet park until the mood struck her.
“It was just so serene and so calm that I felt at peace and really relaxed,” she said of that first experience.
Then she picked up the receiver without dialing, looked up in the sky and began talking, telling her grandparents and dear friend Penny about how her life was going and that she was finally starting to feel okay. She laughed and cried and felt close to them.
“I bet I talked for about five minutes,” she said, noting that it was the first time in her life that she’d ever gone to a park alone, let alone had a conversation with her dead loved ones.
Though she’s talked to them in her head for years, this was the first time she’d spoken out loud publicly and specifically in a place for just that purpose.
“It was intentional to just focus on those conversations,” she said.
It also allowed her to celebrate the good times and memories, she said, adding that the old-school phone definitely added a nostalgic element to the experience.
The line mayhave been silent, but speaking into the receiver brought her loved ones back to her in a way nothing else could. Their absence became presence, if only for a moment.
It’s hard to explain, Hampleman said, but she encourages others to try it and will definitely be back for more conversations.
Jen Kocher can be reached at jen@cowboystatedaily.com.
