Phil Jacobs

Final thoughts of thanks

2011-06-20T01:54:38+00:00

So I’m not one for grand openings, ribbon cuttings or even closings for that matter.
As you might have heard, I’ll be moving on to become Editor of the Washington Jewish Week, to cover the Beltway’s exciting and diverse Jewish community and the importance of Capital Hill for all of us.
There are so many words to write and so many people to thank that I think I could write a cover story of names of people to thank.
But I’m going to keep it short, and make some of those thank yous either in person or by letter or email.
I do want to thank, however, Gary Rosenblatt for hiring a 29-year-old reporter back in 1982. I also want to express my love and thanks to the Jewish Times’ late publisher Chuck Buerger, his wife Ronnie and son Andrew. Over the past two or three years, the Jewish Times has been a place where survivors of trauma and sexual abuse have been able to call and at least have someone listen to their difficult stories. Andy Buerger gave me the place to express the pain of a community, and sometimes the pain of this writer.
My colleagues at the Jewish Times, including some I go back many, many years with like our receptionist Sharon “Leigh” Woodie, our editor Neil Rubin, managing Editor Alan Feiler have been there for years with me in the “trenches.”
Along the way there were names that you’d probably never heard of who added so much to my life. Colleagues like Ben Gross, our gospel singing maintenance man who kept our 2104 N. Charles Street offices glued together. I’ll remember Gene White, a deaf man with one arm who had a laugh that brought anyone out of their doldrums.
We’ve had great interns who have gone on to work for dailies, weeklies and even the White House. Then there is Phyllis Levin, who was so much more than a colleague, but a friend who I always trusted with “her” paper.
There are key people in the organized Jewish community that make this community work. My thanks to Marc Terrill, president of the Associated; my dear friend Buddy Sapolsky of the JCC, whose hugs helped me sometimes get through some rough days; Ken Gelula, the unsung hero of the solidification of the Jewish community, Dr. Art Abramson, who never sleeps without worrying about our safety; Larry Ziffer, CJE executive director, and old friend who I knew in Detroit, and Barbara Gradet, who cares for the frail, the helpless but also empowers our community. Nancy Aiken, the executive director of CHANA, you are one of my heroes.
I want to thank my Rabbi Menachem Goldberger, Rabbi Shlomo Porter, Rabbi Gila Ruskin, Rabbi Mitchell Wohlberg and Rabbi Chaim Landau for putting up with me, listening to my hysterical rants, and most of the time helping me hit life’s reset button.
To all of you who trusted me with your stories, your quotes, your concerns, I am forever grateful.
For those who I misquoted, or got it wrong, I ask for your forgiveness.
To my family, Lisa who reads the JT from cover to cover, that will not change even with me in D.C. She’ll have the Washington Jewish Week to read cover to cover now.
Seriously, to Lisa who put up with me running out of the house late at night to cover events, who watched as I drove away from our vacation house in Rehoboth Beach last summer to come back to Baltimore to break a story, who I left practically alone for 8 months of commuting between Detroit and Baltimore, I love you and know that you helped prepare me for this new step in my career with your encouragement, love and partnership.
To my children DeDe and Emily, I’m sorry that I wasn’t there for you during those 8 months of commuting, and the many days I was out late reporting. Know that I understand that sometimes you heard negative quips about your father from children of readers you went to school with.
The two of you grew up way too quickly. I am forever grateful to HaShem that he blessed me with the you both, and my son-in-law Rabbi Yaakov Komisar and most importantly, my grandson, Nani.
Rabbi Wohlberg, you warned me how becoming a grandfather changes everything, and it did.
The Jewish Times will continue to innovate, to be brave and most importantly to be fair in its reporting of this great community.
Shoshana Cardin, thank you for showing me what grace is all about.
Matt Jeffers, thanks for the dose of courage you gave me.
Glenn Carr, the most amazing father on the planet.
And to Yacov Margolese, thanks for having a meeting that would change my life forever.
I’ve loved all 29 years of my connection to Alter Communications. The Buergers, the community, the staff always made me feel like part of a special family.
I leave with one major concern. I worry that we have indeed become two communities, one Orthodox, the other everyone else. This is something I pray that the leadership of Jewish Baltimore will work on. There’s got to be a bridge of validation and respect between the communities some how, some way.
I’ll be reading.
Be brave.
And thanks.

For Harry Kozlovsky, it was personal

2011-06-15T15:53:31+00:00

My friend Harry Kozlovsky watched as we all did as the dream we once called Yeshivat Rambam came to an end.
Harry was for eight years the president of Rambam. He would never admit it, but I am sure he spent a lot of nights without sleep staring at the ceiling wondering how this school, which was beloved to him, would survive in the future.
I would see him around the community and at Rambam, when we both had children in the high school. But I never asked him what was going on in his head. I could also never understand how a person could work a full-time job, be a husband and father, and give everything there was to give of himself to any cause. For Harry, that cause was Yeshivat Rambam.
Harry watched as in recent months, the school’s finances decline to the point where it had to close. This time, however, instead of me asking his thoughts, he turned around and wrote them for me.
Before you read these thoughts understand that Harry believes in this community. He is a supporter of the Associated: Jewish Community Federation of Baltimore. He just wanted some points made. Imagine, giving of oneself for a cause for years, and then looking back and it’s not there anymore. It was for Harry personal.

Harry writes:
In late 1989, with busloads of children leaving Baltimore to the Hebrew Academy in Silver Spring, with young families leaving Baltimore or not coming to Baltimore, seeking the many schools in other cities that didn’t exist in Baltimore, a group of young families, many from out of town, embarked on a very passionate journey to fill the void.
Maimonides Academy and soon after Yeshivat Rambam came into being less than two years later, as a K-3 school, growing a grade a year. Going through the archives of the Baltimore Jewish Times, the school received local, national, and international recognition over its 20 years. Its numerous graduates are reaching new heights of excellence growing their communities in the U.S. and Israel and is recognized by Nefesh B’Nefesh for the number of parents and students who have made aliyah from Baltimore.
How is it that we are now in this situation? What has transpired over the last two decades that has led the current school leadership to make this very difficult decision to close the doors of Yeshivat Rambam.
As a Baltimore native, the recipient of Roz Goldberg’s initial phone call in 1989, serving on the Executive Committee for 15 years, serving as President for 8 years, leaving both in 2005 and remaining a passionate outsider looking in thereafter, I am in the position to at least attempt to provide some answers.
As Rambam opened K-3 and grew a grade a year, and reached 7th grade, it needed to look into a high school as a possibility. Our finance committee strongly recommended against starting a high school immediately, as the financial ramifications of starting a new high school, at that time, could bring down the success of the K-8 foundation and instead recommended to continue to build a stronger and far less costly K-8 foundation.
Years later, Mr. Henry Lehmann, of blessed memory, the school’s highly respected seasoned financial advisor, provided a five-year projection showing that once Rambam added its last additional grade (12th grade), it still needed to continue the same growth patterns for five more years filling out its bottom grades.
Mr. Lehmann’s sudden passing, left a tremendous void that was never overcome. According to his projections, it was imperative that Rambam grow to nearly 650 students. Rambam’s maximum student body was 445 students. The operating deficits were huge and growing year after year. So huge that even slashing overhead by 100’s of thousands of dollars would have still resulted in an unrealistic and impossible gap to close for a maximum 445 student co-ed K-12 school.
This fact must be clearly understood; maintaining the status quo was not an option for survival. Every graduate of Rambam owes their graduation opportunity to Dr. David Sidransky, whose tireless and miraculously dedicated work single handedly accomplished the impossible year after year. It is clear that a K-12 co-ed Modern Orthodox “niche School” (Op-Ed – “Modern Orthodoxy’s Demise” BJT 5/20/11) was not supportable or financially viable in Baltimore.
What can our community learn from these 20 years?
• To Ohr Chadash – The new K-6 school that will become the closest entity to the former Rambam (and all other organizations fueled by passion): Measure your growth very carefully. Get everyone, who wants to be, involved. However, people need to realize it means sacrificing personal time, family time, work time, etc., but the rewards are unmatched. Passion will carry you far but it has financial risks and limits. Always look to your future by independently making judgments to sustain the long-term financial well being of the whole. Reach out, accept, and applaud everyone (as part of your mission), who commit and invest their precious children’s future into your mission.
• Avoid Labels - Are labels truly necessary? If yes, fine, then always embrace your philosophy, work towards it, reach out, educate and welcome everyone who is not a part of it. Always remember that an institution must provide for and accommodate the needs of the community. Over 20 years ago, many individuals who carried the banner of Yeshivat Rambam identified themselves closely to the revered and esteemed late Rabbi Rabbi Joseph Soloveitchik, of blessed memory.
• Opportunity – The Baltimore community is blessed to have such wonderful Jewish religious diversity. Given the difficult period that has shaken many in our community, we must reaffirm as a community the importance of tolerance and respect for everyone. There is no better place to be heard and respected, no matter your Jewish affiliation and serve together for a common purpose, even through many challenges at times, than the Associated. The Associated is always determined to serve the important needs of a diverse Jewish community.
To the segment of Baltimore’s population, who might feel bitterness in the place of profound sadness, several choices remain: Support Ohr Chadash, its mission and growth, move to other Yeshiva University centric communities such as Riverdale or Teaneck, or by far the best and most meaningful option, as stated by my good friend Roz Goldberg (“A Message From Above” BJT 5/20/11), “make aliyah”.
Harry Kozlovsky is IT Project Manager for Product Development for Houghton Mifflin Harcourt.

Can we move on now from Anthony Weiner?

2011-06-13T16:41:27+00:00

I’ve got to say that I’m getting a little tired, make that a lot tired of the whole Anthony Weiner story.
The man has a problem, he needs to work this through with his wife and those who love him or call him friend.
Yes, he should be doing it on his own time, so he should resign.
Meanwhile, there is still a Japan that is piecing itself back together after a tsunami, earthquake and nuclear accident.
There are still Haitians living in awful poverty.
There are still people from Joplin, Missouri who are probably suffering post traumatic stress syndrome after tornadoes destroyed people and property.
We have a nation that is watching its economy grow all the more tenuous and we have gas prices that have impacted many of our lives.
College students are looking for jobs, and yes, there is still a foreclosure issue out there.
So I really don’t care about Anthony Weiner.
I care that Rep. Gabrielle Giffords can walk and smile again.
I worry about the Arab “spring” and how that might impact Israel and this country.
But Anthony Weiner?
Finally, this reminds me of the summer of 2009. We were watching the social networks bringing us the “real” story of the revolution happening in Iran. People were being killed, jailed, beaten and maimed for protesting their government. Some brave souls took cellphone photos and they went viral.
But, then the biggest gift the mullahs could ask for happened. Michael Jackson died.
End of revolution coverage, end of meaning.
I’m not saying the “King of Pop” dying was insignificant.
But the freedom of a people when measured against a singer? This is out of balance.
He’s since been memorialized over and over again. The media went crazy over his death, and how it happened, and who was invited to the funeral. His fans cried, and yet we all moved forward.
But what about those people in Iran seeking freedom?
And what about Japan, Haiti, the BP oil spill, Joplin and Gabrielle Giffords.
These are all people who are worthy of follow ups and follow throughs.
Anthony Weiner should find a way to heal, and we should move on while he does.
Also, for those who have a problem like he does, using “sexting” as a sordid way to communicate, maybe the media could be equally as aggressive in writing about resources for people who are having this problem. Certainly there are enough qualified therapists and clinics in this country who have seen this sort of thing before. Let’s get those out on the front page, so maybe we can save people of power who lose their way.

Enid and the month of June

2011-06-01T19:12:29+00:00

So, it’s June, and in recent years, I never know whether to love the month when summer comes in or dread it.
My sister, Enid Jacobs Dame was born on June 28, 1943. She died when she was 60 and would have been celebrating her 68th birthday this month. The day she died, my family was in Israel. That’s where I received the news.
It’s kind of ironic, because the one issue that divided us was Israel. She saw the Israelis as brutal occupiers, and I don’t.
She saw the Palestinians as victims of the Israelis. I see the Palestinians victims of their own so-called leadership, not to mention the rest of the Arab world.
Yet, we still debated, and we were still able to carry on as a loving brother and sister.
I think of Enid all of the time, not just the month of her birthday. She was 10 years older than me, and my birthday is on the 28th day of September. We were both 28s.
Enid died of cancer. She found a lump, decided it would go away, but it didn’t. She was an anti-establishment person, so she worried about finding herself helpless in a hospital.
She went for an alternative treatment, and it failed her.
And other than her husband, she didn’t share much of this with the rest of the family.
I wish she had. God, I wish she had, because we would have had the argument of our lives. There are just so many amazing physicians and treatment protocols, that one has to at least take a determined chance with medicine.
We know about failures, but we also know there are success stories.
When June 1 comes around, it’s almost my tradition that I think this is the month of my sister’s birthday. In year’s past, I had to remember “birthday card, get the birthday card.”
Now I light a yartzheit candle, and I have no problem remembering.
So in this rambling blog of random thoughts today, I just want to remember my sister, the poet, the English professor, the wife and my only sibling.
And I want to scream to everyone, if you feel a lump, any lump tell someone, make an appointment and get it examined as early as possible.
I can tell you that I miss sending the birthday cards. And I wish I wasn’t lighting that candle.
So big sister, it’s June.
Twenty eight days til your birthday.
Happy almost birthday Enid.
I think this year along with the candle, I’m going to go buy you a card.
A funny one.
We could both use a good laugh.

Thoroughly Modern

2011-05-31T19:46:49+00:00

Several years ago, there was a conference of Modern Orthodox Rabbis, held at the former Beth Jacob Congregation.
Its rabbinic leaders were Rabbi Elan Adler, now living in Israel; Rabbi Chaim Landau, who announced his resignation from Ner Tamid, and Rabbi Gavriel Newman, who left Beth Jacob and the community.
So flash forward to the closing of Yeshivat Rambam, and we are reading of fears that the Modern or Centrist Orthodox community is disappearing.
I think that’s a little strong a perception at this point. Yes, the right wing of Orthodoxy is getting bigger. But I think that when one considers places to daven like Beth Tfiloh, the Beth Tfiloh chapel and Netivot Shalom and even Suburban Orthodox Toras Chaim. And Ner Tamid is still here, it hasn’t gone anywhere, and what about Moses Montifiore Anshe Emunah Hebrew Congregation?
So while we all recognize that there is a growing “black hat” segment, which to many is a good sign, there still is room in this community for what Rabbi Aaron Frank describes as “Open Orthodoxy.”
“Open Orthodoxy” is thriving at places like Netivot Shalom, and is offering a comfort level to those who choose this warm and friendly shul.
“Modern” Orthodoxy has different forms within itself as well. I think about how Rabbi Shmuel Silber of Suburban Orthodox led a contingent of cars and minivans to a warehouse store to purchase emergency supplies for the earthquake victims of Haiti.
When I think of all the Orthodox high school students I’ve known who volunteer for charities such as Chai Lifeline, or who run in marathons for this charity. And this is not an easy charity where writing a check covers your end of the deal. These students play and do homework with children on chemotherapy and who have terrible illnesses.
Is there something not “modern” about that?
We know that we have our differences. We know that some of us believe in Eretz Yisroel (the land of Israel) or Medinat Yisroel (the State of Israel). But maybe we’re spending just too much time on words like “ultra,” “black hat,” “modern,” “open.”
We’ve got a marvelous federation here in Baltimore who doesn’t care what you call yourself or how you view Israel. If you are unemployed, they’ll help you. If you are suffering from trauma, they’ll help you. If your family needs help to stay “glued” together, they’ll help you.
But as long we nitpick and choose to separate ourselves or label ourselves or seek different identities within Judaism, we risk the danger of spiritual estrangement.
Please, be Orthodox, be ultra Orthodox, be modern Orthodox, be Conservative, be Reform or Reconstructionist or Progressive or secular or anything that keeps you connected.
But be one thing above everything else, be aware of your neighbor, and if they need your help, skip the labels, skip the dress, skip what synagogue they do or don’t attend.
This is being Jewish.
It’s the modern thing to do.

Watching Our Children Graduate

2011-05-26T15:58:49+00:00

Last Thursday, was a day of days.
It was the day that my daughter Emily walked across stage to receive her bachelor’s degree.
On the way to the office today, I drove by Homewood Field and saw a sea of young adults in cap and gown getting ready for their big moment as well.
All of us baby boomers are watching our youngest children graduate and enter the “real” world. So, there is not a thread of exclusivity to my writing this. We all remember those days when our children were so little. We remember dropping them off for the first time at nursery school.
Like a stopwatch being stopped, the next thing we knew there was a bat or bar mitzvah. Stop time again and we’re watching our beautiful young men and women moving on from high school.
It’s funny, because I remember crossing the stage at the then Baltimore Civic Center to receive my Northwestern High School diploma from the hands of Mayor Tommy D’Alesandro III. Thirty years later, my oldest daughter accepted her Goucher diploma from the mayor’s sister, Congresswoman Nancy Pelosi.
We can’t stop time.
We can, however, enjoy these wonderful moments in the lives of our children and our families.
I say Mazel Tov to all the graduates and their families.
And for my Emily, this time it’s okay for me to be personal.
Last Thursday when you crossed the stage at the University of Maryland, College Park, your family was so proud of that little girl who we at one time dropped off at Montessori School and who turned into a beautiful, smart, accomplished young woman.
Thank you Emily. May you and your classmates see nothing but the success you worked so hard in school to achieve.

BCAC needs votes to win a $500,000 prize

2011-05-23T14:14:39+00:00

Usually I don’t promote organizations and their fundraising so blatantly.
But this time I’ve got to.
The Baltimore Child Abuse Center has a chance to win $500,000 in a unique vote sponsored by Chase Bank’s Chase Community Giving Program.
In the interest of transparency, I’m a former board member.
This organization saves lives of children who otherwise wouldn’t stand a chance against the monster of child abuse.
BCAC has already won $25,000 for being one of the 100 national finalists, Maryland’s only non-profit to reach this level.
The voting is done on Facebook, so you have to visit http://apps.facebook.com/chasecommunitygiving or go to http://tinyurl.com/votebcac to cast your vote.
Each organization had to present a “Big Idea” in the competition. BCAC’s big idea that every kindergartner in Baltimore along with their parents and teachers are taught st rong personal safety habits. The Big Idea also includes support for survivors of child sexual abuse.
It might be out of your reach to donate money at this time when the economy has tightened its grip on all of us, but you can vote. And you don’t even have to move from the front of your computer to get to Facebook and check out Chase Bank’s wonderful contest.
So, yes this a plug. Since I rarely do this, this is a good one to plug.

Israel and the Holocaust and Our Teens

2011-05-18T16:11:37+00:00

I’m concerned about Israel and the Holocaust.
What is worrying me is that not enough of our children know enough, and yet we’re depending on them to tell the story of the Holocaust. This current generation could possibly be the last who can have contact with a Holocaust survivor.
Some of the teens I’ve asked have told me that they sometimes feel “Holocausted” out or “Israeled” out.
Teachers teach them about both, and it’s mentioned again and again. I think for some kids, it’s like they are saying, “okay, I hear you, enough.”
Yet when they are asked if they’ve ever heard of the “Six-Day War,” the answer is clearly “no.”
When you ask them about how the Holocaust even happened, “well, there was this guy named Hitler.”
That’s just not good enough.
I’m beginning to think that just like we tell the story of our Exodus from Egypt during our seders, we need to tell the story of the Holocaust as best we can to our teens. It’s not about “glass-half empty” Judaism. Yes, we need to talk up the joy of being Jewish to our children, but there’s also difficult lessons to learn and to pass on.
Many Holocaust survivors didn’t see it coming. There is more than enough historical record of survivors thinking that Hitler was just some nutty guy with a following and wouldn’t amount to much.
So the message has to be told. But I am not sure we as parents are making sure that our children know, just like they can tell you about the Red Sea parting, that this world lost generations of European Jews. And why that is important more than ever.
On the issue of Israel, it seems as if you aren’t Orthodox chances are less that you’re going to find yourself in Israel for schooling, a visit to a relative, a vacation or even to live there.
That’s not good, but it is the reality. Baltimore Zionist District does a great job of getting kids of all flavors of Judaism to Israel. There is a need for more connection. Again, there are too many of us who think Israel is a dangerous place to visit, instead of talking about how beautiful, how important, how entrenched Israel should be in our minds. And it’s not just adult minds, it has to be that way as well with our children and teens.
Yes, travel is expensive, but again it’s at least our parental responsibility to share books, film, websites and information about the Jewish State with our Jewish children.
That’s not forcing it down their throats. It’s just making it part of the conversation.
And it’s a conversation we need to have more of.

Missing Rambam Already

2011-05-09T02:07:14+00:00

I’m going to miss Yeshivat Rambam.
It’s painful and personal and part of my family’s life.
Both of my daughters are Rambam alums.
I remember before we moved back to Baltimore from Detroit, bringing them to the school so they could have a shadow or a try-out day.
They both loved it so much that Head of School Dr. Rita Shloush invited them back for a second day.
My older daughter graduated in the first high school graduating class in 2001. After going to seminary, she was a Phi Beta Kappa at Goucher, lived in Israel and then moved back to go after her graduate degree at Yale.
Her younger sister is getting ready to cross the University of Maryland commencement stage in two weeks.
My wife and I believe that both girls took so much of what they learned at Rambam with them to achieve academically.
Gail Zlotowitz, a master English teacher, was my oldest daughter’s mentor and motivated her to be the best could be and love her studies.
Laurie Austen told my younger daughter, who was a bit nervous about Advance Placement courses, that she could succeed. And indeed, my daughter did, with the words and motivation of her teacher.
There were so many more great teachers and Rambam people. We believed that song they would sing, “We are a family.”
My wife helped produce several dramas at the school. And I even got to help be the assistant coach of the girls’ softball team.
Rambam helped our family refit ourselves back into the Baltimore community after we were away for eight years in Detroit.
We tell the family story of the day our youngest daughter was born, another baby girl was born in the delivery room next door at Sinai. That little girl was in my younger daughter’s class at Rambam.
Amazing.
I remember sitting with my notebook open in a Pikesville home when several families came and decided to go ahead with a new school for Baltimore, for their children.
Tonight, I read the statements by Meyer Shields and I feel from his words how difficult this was for him. There are teachers who are going to need jobs, and students who still need schools. Families are deeply impacted. But Shields’ words were well thought out, filled with a sense of leadership and responsible.
The financial burden of the school was just too much to overcome.
In Shields’ comments to the faculty and parents he said that Rabbi Moshe Hauer of Bnai Jacob Shaarei Zion is working to secure funds to help make sure that there is no shortfall to cover teacher’s salaries. We everyone who can in this community to find a way to help. How many times in the Orthodox community has a fund raiser from Israel or out of town knocked on our doors and we give. Please keep Rambam in mind. There is an urgency here.
So much to process here.
And I guess I will over the coming days.
For now, I want to thank the Rambam community for educating my children and helping them succeed.
There are so many of us who want to say that.
This is a school that brought us America Eats for Israel, an incredible spirit on the basketball court, classroom placements in leading colleges. It is a school that brought in a kollel of Israelis, and it is a school that motivated so many families to make aliyah.
But it takes a tremendous financial effort to keep a school like this growing in a town where the prevailing academic winds place Rambam someplace in the middle of right wing and left wing.
Monday night it will hold its final flag ceremony in honor of Israel’s Memorial Day and Independence Day.
It will be wonderful as the many I’ve seen in the past have been.
It’s possibly the night that best symbolizes Rambam.
In year’s past, after the ceremony the stage would fill up with families and students who were going to make aliyah.
Sometimes we’d be surprised by some of the people who would walk on that stage. Or we’d hear people say that next year they’d be on that stage.
This is what Rambam did.
But it ran out of time with a difficult debt burden to overcome.
It will never stop creating memories.
Ever.
It would be easy to assess blame, but it’s kind of late and pointless to do that. Instead, let’s find people to thank. There was nothing like Rambam here before. This was an opportunity. I’m so happy the community at least had some time to experience it.

Bin Ladin, a Historic Night

2011-05-02T03:23:42+00:00

On Sunday night, our phone rang from our daughter who now lives in New Haven, Conn. She was calling to confirm what both my wife and younger daughter had just learned, Osama Bin Ladin was dead.
Almost 10 years ago on September 11, 2001, my older daughter DeDe also called. She was studying in a seminary in Elkana, Israel. She was asking me what was happening in the U.S. She heard something bad had happened.
When I told her what was going on, she took her cellphone and held up so I could hear explosions coming from a nearby Arab village. It was fireworks celebrating what Osama Bin Ladin’s Al Queda had done to the United States, killing 3,000 people.
I remember then telling her that I felt the world had changed already and might never be the same.
On Sunday night I feel the world has changed and again might never be the same.
History happened Sunday as we were observing the history of Yom HaShaoah.
On Friday we learned when the world was watching the superficial day of a royal wedding, President Obama was ordering an operation to kill the number one enemy of this country.
Justice was done.
The nights following 911 I can remember the eerie feeling of no planes flying in the skies.
My younger daughter Emily and I would visit Israel in January of 2002. There were no Americans to be seen. We walked into a bagel store for lunch in Jerusalem. Wearing an Orioles cap, I stuck out like a sore thumb. The counterman came around the counter and hugged me and thanked my family for coming to Israel.
Now we watch years late on a Sunday night on May 1, 2011. The person behind the fear is now dead.
In itself, it’s an eerie feeling.
This time, I’m glad I’m feeling it.