17 Years ago today... If I don't write it, I will eventually forget the details (Now 23)
The grass was lightly frosted from the late January winter night, and a light flurry made the cold even more visible. Being only 11 years old I was surprised and excited when my mother asked me to warm up our car, an old blue dodge van that seated twelve. Slightly embarrassed I admitted that I had no idea how to start the car.
My sister and I stood in the cold as we watched my mother turn on the car. As we rubbed our hands together a large African-American man walked past us, I was not sure why but something stuck out about him. Our street was adjacent to both the local middle school and high school; both had a student’s that constantly frequented our neighborhood. Normally, they barely register, but for some reason, he stuck out, almost like he did not belong.
While the car warmed up, we prepared for school and filed into the car. There was nothing special about that morning, my younger brothers, Yaakov, Menachem, Gedalia, and Asher filed into the van, and we placed my youngest sister Rachel in the front seat. We waited for my mother she opened the front door and began making her way to the car. Having just stopped using her cane, as she recuperated from a shattered kneecap, she moved slowly especially on this cold morning.
We had yet to buckle in, and I was facing backwards talking to one of my siblings that sat behind me. Glancing out the back window I noticed that the same young man was making his way back around the block. "What the hell is he doing back here?" I wondered aloud as I turned back around.
