On 10/21 Islamic terrorists incinerated a city bus filled with Jews. Intense flames turned young, thick, curly heads of hair into ancient, singed skulls; skin peeled as if from a tortured, scalded onion. The skin of Jews. The same skin once used to make lampshades.
On 10/21 Dozens and dozens. Imagine standing there by the roadside. Helpless as the heat of a thousand ovens kept your screams at bay. The dense, black, sickening smoke that billowed forth from a pyre of Jews. All they were waiting for was a bus. A smiling mother to welcome them home. A friend, a love, a brother?even an empty house. Even that.
On 10/21 Families waited for days. Families that had suddenly become ghosts. They waited for putrid heaps of charred flesh. Please doctor, please. Which charred heap is mine? Which was once a person. My grandmother, my little sister. The boy I dreamt to bear. The chuppah!
On 10/21 G-d forbid. When the same scene pries our stomachs open. In America. Fifty times the number would be the toll. Seven hundred charred remains. Small faces in black and white across every front page, of every paper, in every city, for every eye to see. And page two, and three, and four. Thousands more. Onion skinned survivors, and too many families for the heart to count.
On 10/21 The cry that would rise from the streets of New York, and Washington, and Philly, and Plano, Texas. Justice! They must be stopped! Evil! Nothing, nothing can ever justify such evil. Nothing! They must be stopped. Killed. Eradicated. Bomb them into oblivion if we must. Collateral damage, if we must. Their fellow villagers are not innocent; if we must! The little children who live down the street from where they train, and teach, and preach, and breed; are not innocent, if we must! Stopped. They must be stopped. Forever! Before they kill us all.
On 10/21 Islamic terrorists incinerated a city bus filled with Jews. And Israel isn?t America. Israelis aren?t Americans. And incinerated Jews are different, always different. The Jews must be stopped, must be stopped. They are the cause of it all! They are the problem, the scourge. The dreaded difference.
On 10/21 Clouds of smoke again arose, filled with human ash. With Jews. Tomorrow is my brother?s birthday. In America we clung to news of the sniper, and the World Series, and the Senate race, and Iraq, and the war on Islamic terror, and a rugby team from down under, in Bali. Bits and pieces of beautiful, young, carefree Ausies washed ashore, and into the arms of stick-figure parents on a continent changed forever. They must be stopped! Their inspired, holy waves of death will roll, and roll, and roll. And incinerate thousands. Millions. They must be stopped! Soon it will be Thanksgiving.
On 10/21 Did we feel anything? Did our bodies, and minds, and souls, shudder and shake uncontrollably? Were we violated? Like those that burned, and burned, and burned. Like their fathers, and granddaughters, and sweet young children? Did we sleep? A sound, peaceful sleep. Did we think, evil! They must be stopped. The fiery, blood drenched wrath of Allah. Or do we accept our difference, and our silence. Do we even know our difference?
On 10/21 Jews. How numb we have become. We must be stopped!
(Rabbi Shimon Apisdorf is an author of several well received books, and is the Director of the Jewish Literacy Foundation.)
On 10/21 Dozens and dozens. Imagine standing there by the roadside. Helpless as the heat of a thousand ovens kept your screams at bay. The dense, black, sickening smoke that billowed forth from a pyre of Jews. All they were waiting for was a bus. A smiling mother to welcome them home. A friend, a love, a brother?even an empty house. Even that.
On 10/21 Families waited for days. Families that had suddenly become ghosts. They waited for putrid heaps of charred flesh. Please doctor, please. Which charred heap is mine? Which was once a person. My grandmother, my little sister. The boy I dreamt to bear. The chuppah!
On 10/21 G-d forbid. When the same scene pries our stomachs open. In America. Fifty times the number would be the toll. Seven hundred charred remains. Small faces in black and white across every front page, of every paper, in every city, for every eye to see. And page two, and three, and four. Thousands more. Onion skinned survivors, and too many families for the heart to count.
On 10/21 The cry that would rise from the streets of New York, and Washington, and Philly, and Plano, Texas. Justice! They must be stopped! Evil! Nothing, nothing can ever justify such evil. Nothing! They must be stopped. Killed. Eradicated. Bomb them into oblivion if we must. Collateral damage, if we must. Their fellow villagers are not innocent; if we must! The little children who live down the street from where they train, and teach, and preach, and breed; are not innocent, if we must! Stopped. They must be stopped. Forever! Before they kill us all.
On 10/21 Islamic terrorists incinerated a city bus filled with Jews. And Israel isn?t America. Israelis aren?t Americans. And incinerated Jews are different, always different. The Jews must be stopped, must be stopped. They are the cause of it all! They are the problem, the scourge. The dreaded difference.
On 10/21 Clouds of smoke again arose, filled with human ash. With Jews. Tomorrow is my brother?s birthday. In America we clung to news of the sniper, and the World Series, and the Senate race, and Iraq, and the war on Islamic terror, and a rugby team from down under, in Bali. Bits and pieces of beautiful, young, carefree Ausies washed ashore, and into the arms of stick-figure parents on a continent changed forever. They must be stopped! Their inspired, holy waves of death will roll, and roll, and roll. And incinerate thousands. Millions. They must be stopped! Soon it will be Thanksgiving.
On 10/21 Did we feel anything? Did our bodies, and minds, and souls, shudder and shake uncontrollably? Were we violated? Like those that burned, and burned, and burned. Like their fathers, and granddaughters, and sweet young children? Did we sleep? A sound, peaceful sleep. Did we think, evil! They must be stopped. The fiery, blood drenched wrath of Allah. Or do we accept our difference, and our silence. Do we even know our difference?
On 10/21 Jews. How numb we have become. We must be stopped!
(Rabbi Shimon Apisdorf is an author of several well received books, and is the Director of the Jewish Literacy Foundation.)