“Just because someone’s gone, doesn’t mean that you don’t have to talk to them,” says Laney Sullivan.
Earlier this week, Fonticello Food Forest — a garden, park, and community space in Richmond’s Southside — unveiled its latest addition: a wind phone. We spoke with co-founder Laney Sullivan for the whole story, but first, some background information.
What is a wind phone?
A wind phone installation resembles or interprets the structure of a phone booth, typically placed in a secluded spot in nature and always including a disconnected phone line. The installation fosters a safe space for people to ‘call’ lost loved ones and help process feelings of grief.
The first call through the wind
According to Smithsonian Magazine, the first wind phone was introduced by Itaru Sasaki in 2010, a Japanese garden designer confronting the loss of a relative. He placed an old phone booth in his garden overlooking the ocean. Months later, it became an urgent place of communion for his neighbors, following the natural disasters of Fukushima.
Word spread of the ‘phone of the wind,’ and now you can find installations across the world.
Nature nurtures grief at Fonticello
Just weeks after exhausting the last of a grant for Fonticello’s developing Memorial Garden, Sullivan came across this unexpected idea in her inbox.
The last of the grant money was allocated toward this hillside swing, which will soon feature plaques honoring garden patrons and community figures who have passed.
Photo by Fonticello Food Forest
The wind phone proposal came from an anonymous neighbor who had recently lost a close family member. Sullivan looked into the concept, traced back its history, and told us it left her weeping.
Leadership helped the neighbor identify the optimal location for the installation and acquire necessary permissions from the city, but the neighbor took care of everything else alone.
“They bought all the materials themselves, they cleared the land, and they were alone the whole time they built it. They mentioned to us that it felt therapeutic to do that,” says Sullivan.
We asked Sullivan what inspired them to run with this idea: “There’s a lot of stigma around death and dying in our culture, and people don’t always know how to talk about it. We want to offer a space for people in all stages of life — from birth and childhood, all the way through death and dying.”
According to Sullivan, the wind phone is generally secluded from other garden areas + children’s spaces, like this whimsical ‘fairy den.’ Still, she reiterates that the installation is just as much for children as it is for adults. “Children are not immune to death and dying either,” says Sullivan. “They would have to find [the wind phone] intentionally, but it’s not an object that can’t be played with.”
Photo by Fonticello Food Forest
An anonymous sentiment
The unnamed neighbor shared one piece of sentiment, as provided by Fonticello leadership:
'“Loss steps softly around the house like a quiet thing in socks.’ (Arundhati Roy)
Grief is weird… Loss is the most terrifyingly horrific feeling that we all experience. Some silently, some publicly. There is something painfully beautiful in knowing that this hurt is a shared emotion. It’s a bond that is understood immediately. I hope this wind phone can bring peace to all who need it.”
Support Fonticello Food Forest
Donate: If you’re able, consider donating to Fonticello to help support the Memorial Garden, as well as other community initiatives.
Volunteer: The garden hosts open volunteer times every Sunday from 2 to 4 p.m.
