Kate came into this world two weeks early, a happy baby, spoiling her parents by smiling through her days and sleeping through the nights from day one. She somehow understood that we were “new parents in training” and she was accommodating of our awkwardness, in our first attempts at caring for her. Sometimes it seemed to us that her giggles were an expression of her amusement at our inexperience at nursing, burping, diapering and bathing. At any rate, she seemed to forgive our shortfalls.

We would often say that Kate was an old soul. Looking back now, it seems that she knew, even before she was born, that she wouldn’t have a long time here and every day was to be special and precious. Rarely would there be a time when something wasn’t catching her attention and interest, but on the rare occasion when she was at a loss for something to do, our mantra was, “An intelligent child never gets bored.” That’s all it would take, off she would go on a new adventure, whether it was building sand pies in the sandbox her father built for her (later served up to Dad with a big kiss), climbing her favorite maple tree in order to “look upon foreign lands” (as in a Robert Louis Stevenson poem I taught her), building a tent out of blankets in the living room for a brother-sister camp-in, “helping” Dad with his woodwork hobby, poking her head around to see through his telescope to the stars, playing her clarinet, or helping me garden or cook a special dinner.

On Saturday and Sunday mornings, especially during the colder months when we weren’t outside as much, Phil would fill the house with music, pick Kate up and together they would waltz around the living room. She loved those dances with Dad.

As she grew, she and her father would always look forward to the annual Girl Scout Father-Daughter Square Dance. As soon as it was announced, she would tell her dad to put it on his calendar--it was their special date. Together, they attended those square dances right into high school, even though the last few years she was certainly the oldest Girl Scout present. It always amazed Phil that she still reserved that date, long after her girlfriends had outgrown “dates” with their dads.

Kate was a Girl Scout Silver and Gold recipient. While away at college, she heard about a group of inner city girls who wanted to be in scouting – but had no one to accept leadership. Kate talked to some of her dorm mates and together the girls took on the role of Girl Scout leaders. Kate would call me, asking for suggestions, from my years as a leader and teacher. Then, after the meetings, she would call back brimming with excitement about something that had happened. She truly loved working with the girls and it made her happy to work with girls, who she felt didn’t have all the opportunities she had growing up.

Moss didn’t grow under her feet. Besides being active in scouting, she was co-editor of the Tenafly High School literary magazine, band member, worked with the Tech crew (from high school through college), and even enjoyed trying bit parts in a small theater group. She enjoyed camping and especially loved to go to astronomy star parties with her dad, staying up all night to observe the night sky. She loved to refer to her father as a true Renaissance man; photographer (they spent nights running around Paris taking available light shots); amateur sailor (zipping around Pleasant Bay on Cape Cod together); woodworker (she proudly brought home a foot stool she made in school to show her dad she too could work with wood). She enjoyed horseback riding and sailing, but hated driving. After taking months of driving lessons, she announced that she didn’t want to get her license. She told us that she intended to be a city girl and only public transportation made any sense in the city.

And so, she became adept with taking trains and buses. While at college, she did a stint as an intern at Tribeca Films in NYC. She would get up at crack of dawn to start her trip into the city, praying that the first campus bus of the day was on time, in order for her to catch the metro for the trip into Penn Station and the subway downtown, and then reverse the trip at night. It took her five hours round trip, but she loved traveling by train! She would call almost daily, continuing to allow us to be a part of her new life away from home. The day she literally bumped into Robert DeNiro at Tribeca sent her to the moon and back! And, in true Kate fashion, she excitedly called her mom in the middle of the day to share her “brush” with fame. She made us all laugh.

On one of her days in the city, she became suddenly very sick. She called her dad to come and help her home. He picked her up and took her to the hospital. She was 22 and otherwise healthy. The doctors diagnosed it as an ulcer, gave her medication and had no reason to suspect anything more. Little did we know Kate was much more seriously ill.

Kate graduated with honors from Douglass College, Rutgers University, in May 2003, majoring in Journalism, with minors in English and Political Science. Her father and I were so proud when she came up to us after graduation ceremonies, wrapped her arms around us and said, “I loved coming to this school. Thank you.”

While job interviewing, she came back home to live. I was thrilled to have her home again. It meant that our “sushi lunch/girls shopping outings” were now much easier to arrange. And, it also meant that once again I had someone in the house to discuss politics with, go to indie movies, and to keep me updated on the latest music. Kate spent the summer working for a children’s day school, while she interviewed at publishing houses in NYC. The four of us celebrated being together again in July 2003, when her brother came home from being away at the Air Force Academy in Colorado. Together, brother and sister would go running every night and catch up on their time apart. It was around this time that Kate started itching. Originally, it was thought to be a skin irritation -–possibly from insecticide spray used in the park where she and her brother would run.

One morning, in August, Kate came down for breakfast and I froze. What I originally had thought of as a tan, suddenly looked very yellow. Initially, the doctors thought it was hepatitis, but then came to tell us that they were wrong.

Naively I said, “That’s good! Right?”

“No. I would’ve been happy if that’s all it was. We could’ve treated that. We don’t know what we’re looking at, but from here on out, it’s not good.”

A month later, it was confirmed that Kate had a rare form of cancer, called cholangiocarcinoma--cancer of the bile ducts of the liver. It’s an older persons disease, only very rarely is it found in someone young and hardly ever in someone Kate’s age. The doctors told her she had three to eighteen months to live and to go home and enjoy her time.

With those words our lives went into a tailspin. Phil and I promised Kate that we wouldn’t rest until we could find someone to help her.

Our odyessy took us to four hospitals, numerous doctors, at least 20 invasive procedures, chemotherapy, Brachytherapy and three major surgeries. Through it all, Kate never lost hope and never once said, "Why me?"

Kathryn Anne Lanz Memorial Scholarship

Remembering a Beautiful Life

This Is an Article.

Double-click the text box and begin editing. Use the text editor to customize your text. It's that easy!

Kate came into this world two weeks early, a happy baby, spoiling her parents by smiling through her days and sleeping through the nights from day one. She somehow understood that we were "new parents in training" and she was accommodating of our awkwardness, in our first attempts at caring for her. Sometimes it seemed to us that her giggles were an expression of her amusement at our inexperience at nursing, burping, diapering and bathing. At any rate, she seemed to forgive our shortfalls.

We would often say that Kate was an old soul. Looking back now, it seems that she knew, even before she was born, that she wouldn't have a long time here and every day was to be special and precious. Rarely would there be a time when something wasn't catching her attention and interest, but on the rare occasion when she was at a loss for something to do, our mantra was, "An intelligent child never gets bored." That's all it would take, off she would go on a new adventure, whether it was building sand pies in the sandbox her father built for her (later served up to Dad with a big kiss), climbing her favorite maple tree in order to "look upon foreign lands" (as in a Robert Louis Stevenson poem I taught her), building a tent out of blankets in the living room for a brother-sister camp-in, "helping" Dad with his woodwork hobby, poking her head around to see through his telescope to the stars, playing her clarinet, or helping me garden or cook a special dinner.

On Saturday and Sunday mornings, especially during the colder months when we weren't outside as much, Phil would fill the house with music, pick Kate up and together they would waltz around the living room. She loved those dances with Dad.

As she grew, she and her father would always look forward to the annual Girl Scout Father-Daughter Square Dance. As soon as it was announced, she would tell her dad to put it on his calendar--it was their special date. Together, they attended those square dances right into high school, even though the last few years she was certainly the oldest Girl Scout present. It always amazed Phil that she still reserved that date, long after her girlfriends had outgrown "dates" with their dads.

Kate was a Girl Scout Silver and Gold recipient. While away at college, she heard about a group of inner city girls who wanted to be in scouting but had no one to accept leadership. Kate talked to some of her dorm mates and together the girls took on the role of Girl Scout leaders. Kate would call me, asking for suggestions, from my years as a leader and teacher. Then, after the meetings, she would call back brimming with excitement about something that had happened. She truly loved working with the girls and it made her happy to work with girls, who she felt didn't have all the opportunities she had growing up.

Moss didn't grow under her feet. Besides being active in scouting, she was co-editor of the Tenafly High School literary magazine, band member, worked with the Tech crew (from high school through college), and even enjoyed trying bit parts in a small theater group. She enjoyed camping and especially loved to go to astronomy star parties with her dad, staying up all night to observe the night sky. She loved to refer to her father as a true Renaissance man; photographer (they spent nights running around Paris taking available light shots); amateur sailor (zipping around Pleasant Bay on Cape Cod together); woodworker (she proudly brought home a foot stool she made in school to show her dad she too could work with wood). She enjoyed horseback riding and sailing, but hated driving. After taking months of driving lessons, she announced that she didn't want to get her license. She told us that she intended to be a city girl and only public transportation made any sense in the city.

And so, she became adept with taking trains and buses. While at college, she did a stint as an intern at Tribeca Films in NYC. She would get up at crack of dawn to start her trip into the city, praying that the first campus bus of the day was on time, in order for her to catch the metro for the trip into Penn Station and the subway downtown, and then reverse the trip at night. It took her five hours round trip, but she loved traveling by train! She would call almost daily, continuing to allow us to be a part of her new life away from home. The day she literally bumped into Robert DeNiro at Tribeca sent her to the moon and back! And, in true Kate fashion, she excitedly called her mom in the middle of the day to share her "brush" with fame. She made us all laugh.

On one of her days in the city, she became suddenly very sick. She called her dad to come and help her home. He picked her up and took her to the hospital. She was 22 and otherwise healthy. The doctors diagnosed it as an ulcer, gave her medication and had no reason to suspect anything more. Little did we know Kate was much more seriously ill.

Kate graduated with honors from Douglass College, Rutgers University, in May 2003, majoring in Journalism, with minors in English and Political Science. Her father and I were so proud when she came up to us after graduation ceremonies, wrapped her arms around us and said, "I loved coming to this school. Thank you."

While job interviewing, she came back home to live. I was thrilled to have her home again. It meant that our "sushi lunch/girls shopping outings" were now much easier to arrange. And, it also meant that once again I had someone in the house to discuss politics with, go to indie movies, and to keep me updated on the latest music. Kate spent the summer working for a children's day school, while she interviewed at publishing houses in NYC. The four of us celebrated being together again in July 2003, when her brother came home from being away at the Air Force Academy in Colorado. Together, brother and sister would go running every night and catch up on their time apart. It was around this time that Kate started itching. Originally, it was thought to be a skin irritation - possibly from insecticide spray used in the park where she and her brother would run.

One morning, in August, Kate came down for breakfast and I froze. What I originally had thought of as a tan, suddenly looked very yellow. Initially, the doctors thought it was hepatitis, but then came to tell us that they were wrong.

Naively I said, "That?s good! Right?"

"No. I would've been happy if that's all it was. We could've treated that. We don't know what we're looking at, but from here on out, it's not good."

A month later, it was confirmed that Kate had a rare form of cancer, called cholangiocarcinoma--cancer of the bile ducts of the liver. It's an older persons disease, only very rarely is it found in someone young and hardly ever in someone Kate's age. The doctors told her she had three to nine months to live and to go home and enjoy her time.

With those words our lives went into a tailspin. Phil and I promised Kate that we wouldn't rest until we could find someone to help her.

Our odyessy took us to four hospitals, numerous doctors, at least 20 invasive procedures, chemotherapy, Brachytherapy and more than three major surgeries. Through it all, Kate never lost hope and never once said, "Why me?"

Back to Top

Kate was a wonderful and caring person. She always had a smile on her face and a good word for everyone. Whenever I would visit Rutgers Kate always made me feel at home. She was very loved by all who knew her, and will be missed. I know that she lives on in all of our hearts; as no one can forget such a brilliant person.
Ali Bozzolasco

Add Text Here...