Ana Duarte-Coiner

No one told me. I sat on my bed at camp in Rhiner, Virginia and cried myself to sleep for what I thought was no reason. But there was a reason. July 17th, 1996. A plane came out of the air and landed in the ocean with Ana on it. Our conselor told us about the bombing in Italy. They told us when that happened. No one told me that Ana was dead. When my mom came to pick me up two weeks later, she said there'd been an accident and just handed me a bunch of pictures and articles. I couldn't believe it. I was silent all the way back to Charlottesville.

For about three hours, I just sat there. We got home, and I walked into my room, lay down on my bed, and cried. I had the words of the Suzanne Vega song all of us had become so attached to in camp stuck in my head. "The Queen and the Soldier." And then, for the rest of the day, I just wrote. I don't have any of the writings left. I sent them all to Steve after Ana's memorial in Los Angeles. Annie, Casey, and Jonathon were all there, too, but none of them really knew her. Ana and I were born three fucking days apart. We were best friends. She was twelve.

I don't want to just talk about her death...I don't want to say how unfair it was because it's been said a million times. But I want to tell all the people who think she was just another victim that they're wrong. Ana was beautiful. She was an overachiever, but we loved her anyways. For a while we grew apart -- distance does that sometimes, and I've moved too many times -- but we always remembered. I remember the last time I visited her in Binghamton...she was wearing a blue skirt that was her mother's...she called it a jazz skirt i think. We were around seven or eight, and i wanted to play sleeping beauty. She wanted to play snow white. Our parents wanted to take us to the zoo. So we went to the zoo.

I remember how she would smile. I remember how we'd talk sometimes about deep things, like the universe and love, and other times about school and boys. I wish she could see where I am now. I think she'd be proud of what I've become, mostly because she'd know it's what I want.

I love Ana. I always will. I can't be very coherant now, it was her birthday (16th) two days ago, and I had my party yesterday. I miss her.

Clara

hi guys. it's been a long day. my mind is so oddly divided. it is starting to frighten me. maybe i'll just talk a lot, write a lot, tell a lot of stories. that okay with all of you? because it's all i can do, it's what i have to do, and you don't *have* to listen. but it would be nice. eek. you know it's gonna be a long spew when you start feeling like invoking a muse. gawd. anyway, i will begin at the very beginning.

the very beginning? that's a few more days ago than i thought. i was talking to garrett today, a few minutes ago (oh, garrett, it turned out that the mailman actually *had* gotten to my house just as my mother was unloading the groceries. she took our mail directly from him. nothing interesting. i was so out of it when i was talking to garrett that i was humming peter and the wolf and thinking it was from wizard of oz. la.) and i remembered something. it was last monday, i think, and i was talking to sascha when a Loud plane zoomed overhead. i sad, "loud plane!" he said, "yeah, lots of planes have been crashing lately."

listen guys, i don't really know what i'm doing here. i just know that i have to do it. write as much as i can, remember as much as i can, so i can *try* to make sense of what has happened.

hm. ana. i hadn't spoken to her for a while. we talked often, you see. and then my mom started worrying about the phone bill on her side, my mother is strange, and i had to tell her not to call as much. i remember she called me while i was watching tori unplugged and i said, "ana, i'm watching tori." and she said, "yes, so am i." and i said, "no. but ana, i'm *watching tori*." she got the point and called me back after it was over. i tried calling her wednesday night, at around nine. because i wasn't sure when she was leaving for europe, and i wanted to talk to her before she left, and i just *had to call*. they had changed their answering machine and ana must have gotten a new phone number. because she said that if you would like to talk to her, dial this number. and i dialed. and it rang. and rang. and rang. and then i hung up. it was hard trying to fall asleep that night. there was thunder and rain. the deluge has hit chicago, folks. i'm gonna build an ark if it keeps up. i was drifting in and out of sleep when i heard my mother talking to my father, asking him if she had heard about the plane crash. she babbled a bit about arab terrorists and i sat upright in bed, terrified. absolutly terrified. and then i realized that it was just a dumb plane crash, and didn't concern me, and my god, i have to wake up at 6:30 tomorrow, it's time to go to sleep!

and i woke up, and went to school, and had a good day. i was sitting in my living room looking at the paper. i had picked up the front page and was about to read the article about the crash when my mom handed me the phone and said that it was sascha. he told me to sit down. he said that he was about to ruin my day. he said that ana was on the list of people who were supposed to be on that plane. god, it's as if writing this all down is making it real. good. so i'll write. and you will all just have to deal.

and it was just total disbelief. i said "no." i said no many many times. i asked if he was sure, and he said that he wasn't. her name was just on the list of people who had tickets for the flight, it wasn't verified. he said he would call me back when he had found some more information. and then i listened to "marianne" by tori and cried. and then i got cold. just cold, like november, you know? not white, not black, just gray. gray and mist and tall buildings. no emotions at all. but my wit was still intact, and i went around making bad jokes. i wrote to a few people. and it was terrible. because this was front and foremost on my mind and i couldn't say anything. i didn't want to worry people, if there was nothing to worry about. and there could have been nothing to worry about. there is always a bit of hope, always a spark. i ended up telling jason, with strict order not to breathe a word, because i had to say something to someone. and he didn't know her well, it would be hard, but not as hard as it would have been had i told someone else. and i dropped hints of fire fear foes armageddon destruction tradgedy to dave and ashley, not being able to sit quietly, and not being able to talk. and i waited.

i waited for the telephone to ring, which is something i usually do with expectation. the expectation was replaced by dread and i jumped whenever i heard the shrill sound. because i knew what sascha would say, i knew. there was nothing else i could have known. and that is when it happened, when i somehow lost track of my mind. in that time when i couldn't grieve because i couldn't yet believe that it had happened. and i think still a part of me is sitting there, waiting for the phone to ring, waiting for sascha to tell me that ...there had been a car accident and ana and her mother had been held up in traffic and they *never got on the plane*. a part of me believes that, still. and that is what was happening last night. i could not accept the fact. sascha called and told me that he had tracked down.. people. and they had verified it and it was true. but it's *not*, don't you see? it's not... maybe she grew wings. maybe she grew wings and opened the door of the plane and flew out into the clouds. maybe she is flying still, over dark and quiet water. maybe she is.

i spent the night talking at various people, completly oblivious to what had happened. and i felt so guilty because i didn't feel bad, because i could still talk about petty gossip, because even though my throat was clamped and i could not bring myself to eat dinner, i wasn't sad. i ended up eating ice cream and watching ER, while sascha was watching 48 hours and saw her. and then i couldn't sleep. i took a scaldingly hot bath, and sat in bed, and tried to read, and wrote part of a letter, and then it was Late. and then i got into bed and listened to _boys for pele_. no. not just up to "way down". the whole thing. i was listening to horses, and that is when it hit me. and that is when i was finally able to cry, you see, because i want to bring her back.

"and if there is a way to find you i will find you." i want to find her. i want to bring her back, this girl who was three years younger than me, this girl who i have never met, this girl who had a way of figuring things out that blew me away. i want her to live in my head, if nothing else. goddammit, i want her to *live*. and oh, how she would have lived! do you people even know? can you realize how alive this girl was already? how much she knew, how much she loved, how young she was. and i would keep telling her that she had to hold on to it now, because high school was going to be hell. and now she's never going to walk into those doors and it is just something that bounces off of my mind like rubber. it is something that cannot, is not, possible.

she was... i'm not sure what she was to me. you all know me! you know that i often scorn my entire high school, people who are over twenty, for being immature idiots. lady high-and-mighty andrea, talking to a *12 year old?* what?! i joked about her being my cohort, ana and andrea, the akt gossip girls. ohh, we were. you people have No Idea what you were up against. we were brutal. we knew things about _Everybody_. she wanted to make a newsletter, but i thought it would be too mean. i was gonna show her around, you know? i sent her a package, after i found out that her best friend had commited suicide. i don't know how many of you knew about that. i sent her tapes with tori and flash girls and other things. and two books that i had extra copies of, _nine princes in amber_ and _a wizard of earthsea_. and i told her to read wizard of earthsea, i told her that she would like it. and now she never will. it's as simple as that, isn't it? now she never will.

one of the things i remember best about her was her clear way of looking at things. she had such eyes! all of those times when people were fighting on akt and she took one look at it and asked *why* everyone was fighting, it really wasn't worth it to begin with, you're being stupid, can't we just *stop*? ana, the moderater of akt. she often minimalized things, and was too blunt about them (ash, you know about that. ;>), but she was always right. she always knew. and one great sorrow i have is that, for some reason, she wasn't able to be on akt these last couple of months. something having to do with university servers. but i kept her up to date on what was going on, and i'm sorry that the newbies didn't know her better. i'm sorry i didn't know her better. <sigh>

some time has passed. i had to do things for my mother in the kitchen. i was about to come back downstairs, when i passed the television. it was showing one of those scenes, you know, a big one of wreckage on the water. and i thought *that is where ana is*. and i came down here with tears streaming down my face. and i remember the pictures of the plane while it was burning, it burned in the water like a million stars. "and all those devils with halos and beautiful capes. taking them into the flames, taking them into the flames. many of them know some girls with red ribbons. the prettiest red ribbons." sascha just said that from the way the plane exploded, maybe she isn't in the water. she might be in the air, and that is very beautiful.

she kept trying to send me packages. packages with tapes of her singing, and pictures, and laughing mirrors, and xeroxs of the squished fairy book. the first one she sent never arrived. i secretly wonder if she sent it at all. have any of you read _memory and dream_ by charles de lint? it might show up in twenty years, that package, an echo from a lost time. but there might be another one. she said she tried to send it to me but it got returned because there wasn't enough postage. that was over the weekend. she might have sent it again, she might have. and part of me wants to get it, so badly. to be able to see, to hold some of this energy, this beauty. because that is another thing that is so hard to... comprehend, grasp, accept, about this. she was never really here, and now she is gone and still not here. so what does that mean? i do not know. and another part of me is so afraid to open the front door and find it there.. but i do want it. i want it very badly, something of hers.

which brings up yet another problem with all of this. death is a thing that i... well, we won't get into my various relationships with death. i have to talk to someone else about that. but one of the ways to deal with death is to surround yourself with friends. and that is what i am doing, on akt, in email, hopefully on irc. but it is not the same. when you are crying and wondering and you look around and realize that you are really just alone in your basement... weeping at a screen. and that *hurts*. but maybe it is justified. i never saw ana, i never got to hug her, or look at her. why should i get to hug or look at anyone now? but i want to.

i want lots of things. i want to be able to open my akt mailbox and look at all of the letters from ccoiner@binghamton and not have tears stream down my face. ...i looked at some of the old letters, you know. i shouldn't have done that, i don't think. i can't see to type anymore, and i have to finish this. i have to come to some sort of conclusion, i have to find some worth in this mess. some worth...

to draw something out of nothing, because there is always something. i *believe* in oppisites, i am a girl who lives on the antipode of the world. i flip coins to catch the image that appears when the two sides are spinning so fast that they meld into one tangible shape. and in this world i live in, the nature of life and death runs strange circles. from destruction comes creation, look at the nature on the sides of volcanos! but what is *here*? there must be something here?

i can't find anything. someone, show me what is real. show me what there is to hold on to, because i cannot find it. a beautiful girl is dead. what do i have? the memories? the old letters? the package that might or might not show up at my door? but i'm selfish! i don't want that, that fades like old leaves, that is cold, that is not what is real. what is real?

i cannot leave it like this, that would be a betrayel, that would leave me cold and i cannot be left cold. i have to do this, i have to do this even though it is hard, maybe the hardest thing.

i went through all of our mail. put it in a new mailbox. and yet, and this is a very ana-like thing, i could not find one line that summed her up, one definitive statement that i could put at the end of this letter and say, this was ana. so i'm not going to try. but right when i first started talking to her, in december, we were speaking of poetry. and she sent me a sonnet. she said she had tried to memorize all of shakespeare's sonnets, but only made it up to thirty-something. i... don't know how well it sums things up. but i have succeeded in finding my ending in a beginning.

and that is the only place to look.

* * * * * * *

"How careful was I, when I took my way,
Each trifle under truest bars to thrust,
That to my use it might unused stay
From hands if falsehood, in sure wards of trust!
But thou, to whom my jewels trifles are,
Most worthy comfort, now my greatest grief,
Thou best of dearest, and mine only care,
Art left the prey of every vulgar thief.
Thee have I not lock'd up in any chest,
Save where thou art not, though I feel thou art,
Within the gentle closure of my breast,
From whence at pleasure thou mayst come and part;
And even thence thou wilt be stol'n, I fear,
For truth proves thievish for a prize so dear.

-Shakespeare, sonnet 33

Ana is gone... it's hard to beleive. When I first heard about the flight, I just thought, "Oh, that's terrible!" but it didn't really affect me. Then all of a sudden, I got word that Ana, someone I knew, was on the flight, and it took on a completely new meaning. I understood everyone's grief and the feeling of terrible loss. She was only 12 years old... on her way to France with her mother for a long vacation around Europe. I have been corresponding with some people from Europe who knew her... Ashley and Andrea seemed affected the most. Ash is a very emotional person. He had "Ana to England" written on his calendar so he could meet her. But she'll never make it.

But less than a week after my site had gone up, I began to get e-mails from people interested in it. First came the U.S. News and World Report... they were doing a piece on web sites that came into being because of the crash, and they wanted to include mine. It's entitled "The Web Sites of Flight 800". Next, the New York Times called me up and interviewed me about my site. The article ran about a week later - it's "Web is Headline Service as well as Bulletin Board". My local paper, the Post-Star, interviewed me and the next day I was in there, too - "Youth builds web site for Flight 800 victim." And just today (8/13) I got a call from Channel 10 News in Albany and they wanted to interview me and put me on T.V. but I declined. I didn't put up the site for my own publicity. I didn't want to get this kind of attention. I just wanted to tell the world about this beautiful 12-year-old from Binghamton, NY. I'm wondering now if I shoudn't have declined the news thing. I mean, it's not that often that a 16-year-old gets to be on T.V., but first of all, I wasn't prepared, and I was sick of all the attention, and being asked all the questions, the same questions over and over again, questions I don't know the answer to. I barely knew her, I had only read a few of her posts. I didn't want to get on the news because I barely knew someone. I felt horrible. I feel horrible now.

Always the same questions: "Why did you put up the web page?" "How did you know Ana?" "How did you feel when...?" "How are you feeling now...?" "Has anything like this ever happened before?" Etc. And I don't know. I put up the web page because it seemed like a nice thing to do. I don't know how I felt when I heard the news. I'm not sure what I'm feeling now. No, I've never lost someone like this before. No, Yes, I don't know, Maybe. And it just makes me feel worse all the time. All the attention. And I feel sick to my stomach. Or maybe sick to my heart. I want to cry, I just can't. I don't cry. I don't know why... maybe it was all the years of public school... in public school you can't cry or else you're a sissy, a loser, a faggot. I was already bad off enough already... I had high grades, and that made the other kids tease me all the time... I was never popular because I wasn't "good- looking" by their standards. I wasn't big or strong and I didn't play football or basketball or wrestle. And I liked being with my parents, most of the time, which made me even more of a loser.

So now I've been conditioned into not crying... instead I have this nameless ache that pounds inside me tirelessly and makes me feel so bad yet there's nothing I can do to stop it. I want it to stop...

And then there's everyone who I tell the story to... they all act sorry, but they don't know what it's like. Sometimes I wish I could just do whatever I wanted for a change... and I'd take a bus to Binghamton and talk with Stephen, Ana's dad, and talk and talk and talk and maybe we'd cry together, and maybe he'd show me her room or some of her stuff, and he'd maybe tell me some stuff about her that he hadn't told anyone but maybe I'd be the right person to tell it to at the right time. And then maybe I'd blow the rest of my money on plane tickets to England to visit Ashley and Cameron and Adrienne and Tammy and all the others and visit Sascha and Kris and Riku and Mickey and everyone else that I could afford. And then I'd come back home and maybe I'd be happy. Maybe the ache would be gone. Maybe I'd finally feel content.

Maybe when you die, there is something like heaven, and maybe after a long time when I die I'll finally be able to meet Ana there and give her a big hug and talk to her for the first time really and see her beautiful face, maybe it would still be twelve years old, and maybe we could spend eternity together and be friends for the first time.

Maybe life will get better. Maybe things will happen that should really happen and everybody would be happy.

If one's life is measured by how much fulfillment it brought into the lives of others, Ana's would be ranked right up at the top. Short though it was, it brought such pleasure and happiness, such merriment and joy, such clarity and perceptiveness to others that it was, in its way, a full life. A life worth living. Even thought it was cut short in such a violent way, it was still a beautiful life.

about her "arch-nemesis:"
Ana: he's as smart as i am, although i am considered the school brain..
Ana: he challenges my position.
Cameron: rofl. but if you had nobody to challenge you, you might start slipping.
Ana: so? but even if i slipped, i'd still be way ahead of everyone.

about a friend, riku saikkonen:
Ana: i'm going to kill that boy!
Cameron: why? :)
Ana: because he almost makes me feel inferior.

about a person's impact:
Cameron: do you think any of us will have any real tangible effect on the world?
Ana: nope.
Ana: not a chance.. unless i become the next boutros boutros-ghali. :)

Hey, kids. This message has a punch line, so please read it through. About three-four hours ago, I was at work. I work at the Washington Post, and the big story of the day was the TWA airline crash, and I was sitting shaking my head at what a tragedy it was (just like so many other tragedies) and the passenger list came down through the AP wire...

D__n. I can't tell this like a story. Maybe I have to tell it like a journalist. Okay. For the foreigners: Last night at 8:35, a TWA 747 jet plane heading from New York to Paris exploded half an hour after liftoff. Eyewitnesses say they saw the plane suddenly become a huge fireball, then two huge fireballs, tens of thousands of feet in the air. Long Island Sound is still burning with diesel fuel. No one knows the cause of the explosion. No terrorist organizations have connected themselves with it, and the plane was checked out before liftoff. 227 people were on the plane. 227 people died. Ana Coiner and her mother were two of them. Ana Coiner is dead. I'm sort of in shock right now. So is Andrea, who I'm going to call as soon as I'm done writing this message.

I might as well tell the rest of my story. When I saw Ana's name on the passenger list, the first thing I did was call Andrea - the second thing I did was hope to God that somehow she didn't make it on the plane. Working for the Post has its advantages. People answer your phone calls and answer your questions. After two hours of sporadic calling - and I still had a job to do, and d___it I wanted to do my job because my job was finding out about the very thing I needed to find out about - I finally got through to an official at Binghamton, who told me Stephen (Ana's father) had confirmed that they were on the plane. Stephen is now in New York waiting for ... well, waiting for all that grisly and horrible stuff that comes when your entire family is killed in a f_____g meaningless meaningless fireball of an accident, and d___it, my heart goes out to him. But this doesn't change the basic fact that Ana was on Flight 800, and Ana is dead, and I'm just going to keep saying this until I believe it, though I'm not sure I want to ever believe it.

And if you think I'm in a state - well, you should talk to Andrea. And that's a general request: you should talk to Andrea. Ana was beautiful. Ana was - d___it, all the words that come out are so trite. I wanted to hook her up with my brother. This will not be possible. (Isn't it odd how these silly little things come out?) And she just - she just had so much f_____g life in front of her, and there's not even a point, there's not even a f_____g point! And now everything's in pieces in Long Island Sound.

We should stick together. My suggestion is that we start an irc channel for now, for anyone who wants to talk, or even just post here. The irc channel, when anyone's on it, should be called #ana . I don't want to be alone tonight. I'm going to be on the phone for a while, though. Anyone who wants to call me and talk, for any reason - send me e-mail and I'll send you my phone number. Anyone who wants in-depth information about this accident - who, like me, finds information very comforting, because in knowing there's power whether it be false or not - head for http://www.washingtonpost.com - I've been working on it all day.

There's really no way to end this message. Let's not have any more endings. I think there's been enough ending for one day.

ana first greeted me on akt. well, i knew mickey and anthony before, but ana was the first to take me under her wing. gotta love role-reversals. and unlike everyone else, i find myself totally unable to write her true justice. i was going to meet her this august. right after her trip to europe. she was going to come around here because she has family there. and i couldn't wait. she was a natural sugar high.i think that's why i related to her so easily. it was too easy to be silly and goofy and laugh and use exclamation marks.

she knew things. and i don't mean secrets, although i bet she knew more than anyone else did. she knew Truths. she knew Life.
she knew pain and she knew joy and she knew estacsy beyond her years. you could feel her love and her care. you know how when you go outside for the first time and you're shivering just a bit because it's chilly in the morning? and when the sun comes out and it warms you up and you just don't want to leave?

that's what talking to ana was like.

and i think, because she was young, she knew how to milk it for all its worth. which is definitely more than what some people i've met have done.

she always had a story to tell. even if it wasn't long. but they were stories and they were hers. a lot of things were hers.

and now she's dead. and for some reason, i believe she met it straight on. she may have been frightened, she may have been thrilled.but she never backed down.

the world was blessed for 12 years. and only a few truly know what they will miss.

i know i miss her.

I still remember it. That night when an email came in from Andrea. She tried not to break the news if there was no news.. if Ana didn't make the flight and was still alive.. but there was news. I got an email an hour later, after Sascha had done some checking, Ana was dead. I don't think I cried at first, you know? just sat here in shock and trying to remember the last things we'd said, but my mind was a mess. Ana was gone, and 12 year old people don't just go like that.. especially not Ana.

Right away I wanted to know why, how, this had happened. But then I forgot about aircraft for a week or more, didn't want to know how the flight crashed.. I wanted Ana back, so badly, just to share one last joke and smile one last time. She was due to come to England, and then at the last moment that got changed but she didn't want to tell me because Ana knew how much I wanted to meet her. We would have met though, sometime, somewhere. It was the nature of our friendship. It all started when Ana started posting to the newsgroup, almost instantly she became the lifeblood of our "village" - everyone was so very protective but, you know, it was Ana who protected us.. she protected our hearts, taught us how to enjoy friendships to the full.

I remember so much, now, writing this in order to update this website. I remember our pillowfights, which happened over the net.. she used to get on her broomstick and chase me all over everywhere.. we called her aNa The Wicked Witch Of The West (well, west of the UK anyway) because she also had something called The Wand.

The Wand was ultimate. It had the power to do anything when used by someone who'd been trained by it's previous owner - she used it to turn me into a cute little AshBunny rabbit, hence my /nick on IRC or whatever chat I use. She was Wicked because cute little bunny rabbits were not the only things she used to turn people into *laughing* Ana knew how to live, and how to make the most of everything. She made the most of her time on this earth, she made people increadibly happy and honoured to know her.

I looked uppon Ana as an equal, but she used to also run rings around me in some areas. Her knowledge and inteligence were both amazing, and yet I remember her most as a most wonderful and caring friend. We used to write email all the time, and share posts in the newsgroup. Every time I had email come in from Ana I would end up smiling and laughing and ..oh.. she was like a light.. full of warmth, full of hope for the future.

Sometimes I look at the pictures of the crash site, still, and sometimes I cry. Knowing about aircraft, and how her flight ended, helps a little because she didn't suffer. She met whatever happened to her straight on, but for a while.. until they found her.. I kept looking at the pictures and tv news scenes of the crash and wishing her to be found.. you see.. there is no way Ana could be down there all alone, cold, because she projected so much warmth and life to all who knew her. And now, she was gone.

Later on we found out about the belly fuel-tank explosion, but not what had caused it. It doesn't matter, the fuel tank exploded and took the life of my friend and over 200 others, including her mother Constance. What matters is that Ana's memory, her life, her love *for* life, and the memories of her friends and all who knew her are kept alive.

For in those memories, those stories, the laughter and the tears.. Ana is always with us.

Your tribute to her, and her pictures, show her as she truly was and not as a "name on a list".

No matter the length of time you have been without her, my heart goes out to the entire family. May each of you somehow find peace.

I was reading the memorial to Ana from her friends and it touched my heart. With the recent lost of life on EgyptAir I'm sure that it brought back a lot of memories for you and the others who knew and loved Ana. I've never lost anyone in such a tragic way but I have lost people from old age and disease, one being my father. When the movie Titanic came out and the song My Heart Will Go On was sang, I couldn't get it out of my head. Later as I was driving along, it occured to me that our loved ones hearts do go on. Hearts go on as long as those that loved them go on and after that those that loved us still carry the love we had for others even if they never knew them. I believe that and I believe that as long as there is love in the world our hearts do go on and on. Take comfort in knowing that Ana's heart will forever go on as long as there is love in the world. That's for eternity.

I was sitting in my room today and for some reason Ana popped into my mind. I really don`t remember when the last time I saw her before that horrible day was. I do remember though one day the two of us were outside the Susquehanna School in Binghamton, NY where we both attended a summer program. We were talking about something and I remember we got talking about names. All I can remember from the whole time I attended the Susquehanna School is Ana and how we were laughing and she was running around yelling out that she was Ana Duarte-Coiner, only the way she said it was "Ana Duarte hyphen Coiner" she made sure to say the word hyphen. I can`t remember if she included her middle name in there or not. Through the years since then I always remembered her as "that Ana girl with the really long name". I don`t think I`ll ever forget how happy she was that day. I just want to thank you all for making such a beautiful memorial to her.

Wow! What a tribute to who I am sure was a wonderful little girl. I started crying when I saw her pictures. Especially the one when she was a little girl. The very last picture. Being a mother of 2 children and a sister of a flight attendant for American Airlines. My heart goes out to you guys. I don't and I hope I never will feel what you are feeling. I know that it has been a while since her death, but you guys are quite something yourselves for keeping her memory alive. My God continue to comfort and be with you all.

Im Here from Cape Town South Africa.I was very sad to hear about Ana's and her mother's death. I knew Ana from chat. She was very talented girl!

I am sorry for your loss. She sounds like a wonderful person and she will always be with you by the time and spirit she left you.

Although I never knew her, I see the pictures, the site, the memories recalled ... everything, and wonder still how I found her. Ana seemed to be a talented girl - someone fun to be around, fun to talk with, and most of all, joyful and smart. There had once been a newsgroup, Ana being part of it, called akt (alt.kids-talk). Not long after Ana was gone, the group went down the drain. It shows just how tragic such an event as an aviation disaster can be.. affecting the lives of thousands.. not just 230 people. No, there are families, friends, and even more, people who, just as myself, read about the families, people who read about the victims and their friends, and pass the knowledge of these people that have been read about, on to their friends and their families. No, aviation disasters affect us all in some way - thousands of us, millions of us. It has been yet four years since the crash and I still try to repress memories of the night the plane went down. I don't like to think of plane crashes because I've had my good deal of them in the past, as have everyone. Although none of my own family members have been lost in such tragic disasters, people that I, in ways can relate to, have been lost. I am glad in many ways that Ana was not my friend, just to spare the pain and heartache of losing such a person. I knew her only after she was gone, but sometimes I wish I had known her, only if she hadn't been a victim - if she were still here today, I wish I would have known her. I just don't know. I'd rather not think of it. I remember asking Ash in April 1999 just what he thought of the crash and Ana. I remember asking Clara what she thought, and in return, getting memories they shared together for many years before the crash, when it all ended. The memories remain there but just aren't the same. Things override them. Things override my own memories of such people lost in such events. A harder time though, was later.. after the crash, when I had time to think more about how such things affect a person. Plane crashes haven't been the best thing in life for me. Every one, no matter how big or small, affects me in a way I cannot say. Just hours after losing John F. Kennedy, Jr not far from the TWA 800 crash site, we lit candles to remember Ana in 1999. I remember the day well. I was in Germany and had just gone bowling; July 17, two hours after hearing my home-state politician had been lost at sea in a crash - dealing with that, yet remembering Ana, lost three years earlier the same day. Others lit those candles and I must not have been alone, for the grief of such events tears me apart. It tears us all apart, and this is why we honor the people who are no longer with us. Not just Ana, but everyone.

As an employee of TWA, I wish to express my deepest sympathies to the loss of Ana. Please keep her spirit alive.

This is an amazing and very moving site. I have had a particular sense of empathy for the families of plane crash victims since I was a boy. When I was ten years old, a plane crashed about five miles from my house. It was the now defunct PSA flight 182. It had collided with a Cessna and crashed in a densely populated residential area, killing 144 people. At the time, the crash had received the same sort of national attention that was given to the TWA crash, as the PSA disaster was the worst crash in U.S. history to that point. I was too young to understand the magnitude of what had happened at the time, but I remember going to play at recess that day and seeing a giant cloud of smoke filling the sky. I was terrified. Over the next several days, everyone in San Diego was subjected to repulsive and horribly insensitive media coverage. This went on for weeks, as speculation over whose fault the crash was intensified. I just remember thinking that "they should just leave everyone alone" (the families and the victims.) I got so upset about it that I began to cry one night when the news was on. I actually felt like I knew the victims by that point and I felt the need to defend them. I later found out that my step-father had been working literally a half mile from the crash site and his office was right in the flight path, but my mother hadn't wanted to tell me at the time. I will never forget that event as long as I live. Please excuse my rambling, but I just wanted to let you know that I respect what you went through with endless media coverage during your time of grief. The TWA crash touched me very deeply, and I wanted to tell you.

Thank you for sharing Ana with us.

Sometimes we are left to face the gruelling truth abt. life.. My heartfelt condolences to the survivors of this massive tragedy and may god give u all the courage needed to face life.. A talented girl like Ana has to be snatched by the cruel hands of fate is indeed very tragic..

May her soul rest in peace.

Manoj

I didn't know Ana. I wish that I did. Still, I have been deeply touched by the light of her memory. The day that I stumbled upon this webpage, in April 2000, I cried for hours for a wonderful girl that I would never know. I wrote a poem for her that day (I won't post it here, but if you'd like to read it, it's here: http://www.angelfire.com/ca5/momentsofbutterflies/poems6.html). I couldn't believe that such a beautiful, inspiring, and talented human being could be brought down so young. It wasn't possible. The TWA 800 flight had an impact on me at the time, before I even knew about Ana; I was a reporter for my high school newspaper, and the article I wrote about the crash, comparing it with the flight to Paris my school's French Club had taken right around that time, made the front page. Another school, from Pennsylvania, had students on that flight as well. I can imagine Ana chatting it up with those kids as they boarded the plane, discussing where they were going and brimming with anticipation. It breaks my heart to think of all of them going into the sea so soon after take-off. I feel like Ana hangs around -- I talked about this a little with Ash a few times, he agrees. This past summer, I flew to Finland from San Francisco just three days after the four year anniversary of the TWA crash. I felt like there were signs from Ana before I took off, that I would be okay. (Since this website, I've developed a fear of flying, even though I've flown internationally several times and my father is a pilot.) I could feel her there. It sounds crazy, I know, but I'm sure those of you who were friends to Ana can understand this and I know you can feel her too. She hasn't really left us. Her bright spirit and smile will exist as long as we remember her. Still, I think often of the things which she's missed since she left.

Allison

I am so very sorry for your loss and extreme pain. This girl was beatiful and its great that you are keeping her memory alive. I remember hearing about this crash, and I watched it very closely on TV. It was so devastating to hear about this crash when so many passengers were on board. I am praying for your family. I am very sincere in what I am saying, and I hope time will heal. Thankyou for sharing your story.

Sincerely,

K. Lacombe

I came across Ana's page by accident when I was looking up the plane crash of PSA in San Diego for a project. I wasn't going to look at it but it caught my eye and I started to read. I am so amazed at how many people Ana touched in her short life. I feel like I know her a little now and I will keep her in my prayers every day. She is a beautiful person. NOT WAS!! She IS! She will live forever in all of your hearts. God what a gorgeous girl! I love you too little Ana. You are love personified. May God keep you safe always

:X

5 years after the crash people still think about it and the memories of all these people live on. This little girl would be 18 years old now if she hadn't died. She is pretty.

May God bless all of you and help to heal your hearts. I am haunted by Tillie Olsen's note to Constance Coiner when Ana was a newborn: "Thieve all the time you can for Ana." Constance did, and encouraged other women in academia to do the same, but I was saddened today to discover that the time they had was still all too short, cut off abruptly by the Flight 800 tragedy. When I get home tonight, I will give my daughter an extra hug -- we never know how much time we will have with our loved ones, and should always "thieve all the time we can" to be with them.

message I now too how hard it is to lose someone so young I lost one of my friends just recently. It's horrible to lose someone so close I have been reading about your stories and my heart goes out to you all. And my prayers will always be with you. When i read about this I decided to choose This topic for one of my sculptures in one of my art calsses That way I will be able to share your story and the story of Anna with my class.

I am truly deeply sorry for your loss. It's strange but I've been interested in aerospace all my life and I know quite a lot of the facts and myths, especially after graduating in Avionics (Aerospace) Engineering...but not until I stumbled across this site did I realise the human side of it.

I found this site whilst looking for information on the PAN AM103 Lockerbie disaster for my own web site on Aviation (www.flatmaates.freeserve.co.uk). Yet even when it happened on my own doorstep (Glasgow, Scotland) it didn't seem as sad....probably as I knew no details of the people involved other than their names.

That's why this site is so important. To show the human side of things and to get things in perspective.

I will link your site to my web site (if you have no objections) and will soon put up information on the TWA 800 disaster along with the Lockerbie details.

May God bless Ana and all the victims and families of flights PAN AM103 and TWA 800.

Perhaps in the next few years I'll get a chance to improve safety in Air Travel. If I do it'll be more than just a job to me!

I like to say only this. God bless them all. We will not forget any of you.

Hi, my name is Matias and i'am from Argentina i'm 18 years old and i think in Ana and her lost dreams and make me feel sad, i feel so sorry for all the TWA's victims, Ana looked like a very joly person,but i'm sure that her and Ana's mom are in heaven together,taking care of their love people. I give all my suport to Ana's family and for the others victims too.

Good Bye

My name is Hugh Mc Cabe. I had no connection with anyone on the TWA800 flight. Yet, it's a tragedy I cannot put behind me. Several times a year I revisit the web sites about the human stories behind the passengers. I have no interest in the missile downing theories etc. My interest lies entirely in the stories of the passengers, what was going on in their lives, why they were on the flight and the sense of loss that those left behind must feel.

I thank you for your website on Ana. I will always keep those who died, alive in my memory. Their individual stories, their photographs, their loved ones left behind. Although it may never happen, I would love to meet sometime the loved ones left behind and share their grief.

From someone who had no connection with any of the passengers on TWA 800.

Hugh Mc Cabe

What can i say to all of ye and to myself to make this herrific reallity about ana,s death to be just a sad story,But its not and i wish to god is was.

ANA LIVES FOREVER IN OUR MINDS OF THOUGHTS OF HER AND WHAT SHE DOES BEST.

please dont die ana,for as long as your their,were not

you make the sound of laughter,and somehow my needs and

desirers are open fired on,and i need you now somehow.

flesh seems thicker,sandpaper carrodes my laughter and your gone from me now,tears burn though the film and your my obbsesssion.

I LOVE YOU TO THE BONES.My life is like and anarexia life without a soft whisper open fire.

dear ana

i feel so sorry for you i miss you and i am looking at your website and it made me cry and tell your mom i miss her and i feel so sorry for her and i wish your a life and thats all for now.

I heard about this a couple years ago, i am very sad about what had happened, alot of stuff about ana duarte- coiner i am very sorry to hear about her as along with the other victims on that plane, i am doing a project i thought this was very interesting. but then i hope this does not happen again i hope the saftey bored looks at the planes very closely. there is a movie kind of based on this at the beginging the passengers go to paris from john f. kennedy airport but it blows up on take off final destination very sad ana was a very pretty girl, i will remember her i hope everyone will to after seeing the sight and other stuff.

sincerely, dustan Pulak

age:16 May 10, 2001

Just came across this website and wanted to leave my message,i am glad to be hear reading all about this little girl,and to remember all of the victims of twa 800,i have their rememberance ribbon on my website memorial page,a sad loss of Ana but i am sure she is up there smiling down on all of her friends and family with the lord jesus.

Thanks from Heather in Scotland

Like many who have visited this site I have no connnection to anyone on the TWA flight 800. However, my greatest fear in life is flying on airplanes. Whenever, I think about flying I visit websites and see how tragic losses occur from plane crashes. While I am convinced I will never fly, I want to express my sadness for a life that was taken way to young. Looking at this girl I see a future and a success that never was given the opportunity to live. What a beautiful girl she was this Ana! Never let her memory die, because without sites like this, her life would never be remebered. Thank you for sharing Ana with me.

With deepest thoughts and care,

Kristy

I did`t know that Ana was so special, i thought that she was a ordinary girl untill today that i saw this web page and see that how special she was.

Life is what you make it...I feel death is, too. You don't need to bury it. That "special someone" who once lived with you is with you now in spirit; you need only be open to this thought. Listen with your heart to their messages.

Your heart is now their home.

7 feb 2002

what a shining star in the midst of all that has occurred since then. i hope to meet Anna some day if i am lucky enough to make it to Heaven and just give her a big hug for being so much in the time she was here. beautiful girl, full of life, be proud friends and family, you lived with an angel.

love and condolences, you will see her again.

a friend from the web.

Ana was one of my best friends. A single day does not go by where I am not thinking about her or using her name in conversation. That day was one of the hardest I have ever had to live through next to September 11, and all I can think about is how she would be 19 years old this year. All the things she never got to do, I do for her through me. I know she is looking down on me from heaven and smiling and keeping me safe from harm. To Ana: May your spirit continue to guide those you left behind to greatness and save me a place next to you wherever you are. I love you and I miss you.

~*~*me~*~*