Every year some students would claim to be the Messiah, It was the rabbi who had to deal with them. He had jumped, years ago, from a moving boxcar on … Continue reading →
Sometimes I see Helen Passing by Wearing a long skirt. She pushes a metal walker Scraping against the ground. She always asks: “Sir! What day is today? What day is … Continue reading →
I never believed that anti-Semitism had disappeared, or ever would. But neither did I ever expect to live with the kind of fear and torment that older generations spoke of in … Continue reading →
. Fred Johnston reads his poem, ‘Wall, Plaque, Book,’ from his collection The Oracle Room, published by Cinnamon Press (UK). The poem arose from a visit to the Marais area … Continue reading →
The tendency to mistreat one another, occasionally on a horrifyingly large scale, appears to run deep in the human makeup. Our technological progress routinely laps its moral counterpart, if, in … Continue reading →