individual—a stark reminder of the terrible trauma that Manhattan was living through. People were still missing under the rubble, and family members were desperate for news.
We blew shofar for the two elderly people and shared a meal with their children. Homemade gefilte fish, sweetmeats and compote were a much-welcomed repast at that time of the afternoon.
Dani and I then spent the rest of the afternoon walking through the halls of the hospital, offering to blow shofar for any Jews who had not heard it. Along the way we met the Jewish chaplain, and he was happy to assign us certain floors, thus easing his burden.
We returned the following day for a repeat performance, and then remained in Manhattan until nightfall when we took a car service back home.
Rabbi Menachem Posner
As we rode back to Brooklyn, the driver played the radio. For the first time since the attacks, there was more than just news updates. Ads, talk shows, the regular programming was coming back on air. It felt good to hear the usual irreverence of New York AM radio. It meant that we were still alive, still ourselves.
And with that, we were ready for the Jewish year of 5762.
Reprinted from the Rosh Hashanah website of Chabad.Org Magazine.
