A time of great sadness and grief for all of Klal Yisroel.
A time of remembering staggering losses for all Jews.
A time of great personal loss for myself as well.
Tonight - Rosh Chodesh Av - marks the 10th yahrzeit of my dear father, Raphael N. Levi, z"l.
I can still hear his unassuming voice - his soft chuckle - his wise words.
How typical of my father to pass away at a time that we are all mourning anyway, so as not to inconvenience anyone in his family with undue sadness.
I cannot begin to tell you how much I admired my father, and continue to do so today {though the expression of this admiration may have changed slightly.... ;) }
As we prepare for these upcoming sad days, one of the books that come down from the shelf is my father's Kinos. The book itself is no more remarkable than any other of its kind, except for the fact that my father kept within reminders for himself of other more recent horrors and annihilation. Stored inside my father's sefer, are crumbling pages of The New York Times, dated August 1943 and 1944, detailing horrors beyond measure. They are difficult to read. They are imperative to remember.
(read column one on this one, then go down to the next one before returning to the remaining columns here)
