Date Posted: June 20, 2024

“’A Walk to Remember’ is more than just a physical journey; it’s a step towards healing, a tribute to resilience, and a celebration of the memories that forever bind us to our loved ones.”

– Rima Samman-Whitaker 

By Sarah Wagner

On April 13, 2024, I drove back up to New Jersey to take part in Rami’s Heart Memorial 4^th Annual “Walk to Remember” along the boardwalk at Belmar Beach. Joined by my husband and a close friend from high school, we arrived in time to register, get our pinnies, and catch the opening ceremony. 

It was a surprisingly chilly day for mid-April, with gusty winds and an overcast sky. But nothing to deter the organizers and participants, most of whom came prepared, dressed in layers and ready to move. Travis Whitaker (co-founder along with Rima Samman Whitaker) made his way through the crowd offering Dunkin Donuts—“you’ll walk it off.”   

Just stone’s throw from the original site of the memorial, the event formally began at a small staging area off the boardwalk where the crowd of approximately 50 people, ranging in age from little children to seniors, gathered together for opening remarks. In the center was a wire cage with a flouncy yellow bow holding two snow-white doves. 

The mayor of Belmar, Jerry Buccafusco, welcomed the participants, paying tribute to Rima’s drive and dedication and explaining that there would be an unveiling of a memorial plaque marking the original site of Rami’s Heart Memorial, a few weeks later on May 11. He spoke with ease and without a script, comfortable among this gathering and yet careful with his words. He knows their story and their grief. 

Then came the releasing of the doves—five in total, two in the cage and three in a nearby crate. A woman in a bright yellow jacket handed the birds over one by one with instructions to the participating family members to hold them tightly around their wings. There was a moment of uncertainty when one of the doves flapped, tufts of feathers sent airborne. The handler explained they would need to give them a push, release them with a thrust upward, because otherwise they would fall to the ground. An unrehearsed moment around a symbolic script (of peace, love, remembrance), there was no explicit ceremonial explanation of the meaning of the doves and their release. Once freed, the birds took flight and were gone in an instant. 

Rima then gave her own brief remarks, shorter and less formal than the lighting ceremony we attended earlier in March. Just as she had described to me beforehand, this event felt more grounded in the local community and less somber. It was a chance for people to socialize together while also remembering. 

The ceremonial part complete, we began the walk itself along the boardwalk. People proceeded in informal groupings, presumably as they came to the event. The waves were quite high and so as we walked along the beach we saw scores of surfers—must have been ideal conditions—in wetsuits, riding the waves, the surf crashing against a large outcropping of black rocks.  

As we neared the finish line, we caught up with Trav and I asked him about the evolution of the hearts, how many and how they grew. He explained that the first day there were about fifty. Rima posted images on social media and the next day 200 people had responded, some asking for her to add a name. The first heart was the largest, he explained, with about 300 stones contained within it. Two months later they had expanded into six hearts. Media attention—coverage from a local newspaper and then an ABC report—meant that, as they walked by the site, people knew what they were seeing. Sometimes they offered encouraging words, “It’s so good, so important what you’re doing.” Others thanked them for including their loved one’s name.  

After having visited twice the Allaire Community Farm, where the permanent memorial now stands, it was powerful to hear these stories, to take in the sight of the beach, to imagine the stone-filled hearts in their original form, and to see Rami’s Heart—its leaders and dedicated members—gathered in ritual, in motion, and in remembrance.