Dear Friend,

For my grandparents’ generation, it was Dec. 7, 1941 (Pearl Harbor); for my parents’ generation, it was Nov. 22, 1963 (the assassination of JFK); and for my generation, it was Sept. 11, 2001.

Ask anyone, and they can probably tell you where they were and what they were doing when the heard the news. (I was in yeshivah in Brooklyn, having just studied a challenging chassidic text, and was able to see the burning towers from the windows of the study hall.)

It was a painful and shocking moment, never to be forgotten.

I remember that afternoon. The streets were eerily still, and people stood outside in small groups. Police officers, men in do-rags and yeshivah students shared wild rumors and projections, bound by a common fear of the unknown. In other neighborhoods, people set up free refreshment stands for those trekking home from Manhattan.

We were all under attack together, and we felt it.

With time, the unity, patriotism and pride that we felt on that day dissipated. The radio turned back to its regular programming, Wall Street reopened, and life continued as usual.

Let us honor the lives of the 2,977 victims by recreating the oneness that resulted from that tragic day. Reach out in friendship, and the world will become a better place.

Menachem Posner,
on behalf of the Editorial team

P.S.: We are now in the introspective month of Elul. What Elul message do you take from the events of 9/11?