Prayers for Pittsburgh

Eighteen years seems like such a long time ago. But I can tell you exactly where I was in Pittsburgh when a man went on a killing spree, killing five and wounding a sixth.

I know where I was because some of it happened down the street from me. I know where it was because a couple of people he killed worked in places I used to frequent. An Indian Grocery store. A Chinese restaurant.

Some of it my dad covered on the news. The  man was friends with a next door neighboor, which either says a lot about the neighbor or the crazy man's ability to make friends. I don't know which, nor do I care.

I remember the man also shot up a synagogue, although I don't believe anyone was hit. He also spray prainted swastikas on tbe building.

Today, those memories came back when someone went into a synagogue during worship and killed eight people.

At times like these I try to avoid social media, because it's unhealthy. The toxic concotion of hot takes, brass opinions, shocking jokes,  false information and lies and opinions and people turning it into politics and anti-semitic remarks is something I don't need. No one does.

This section of  Pittsburgh, Squirrel Hill was near and dear to me when I lived there. A great mix of all kinds of cultures. I must have gone there with my mom every weekend. The 61C Cafe. Mineo's Pizza. An Argentine spot. Eat n' Park. Barnes and Noble.  The local art house theater. A pioneering (for Pittsburgh) hipster men's clothing store.

Professors from Pitt and CMU live there. Same with students. Ecclectic and fun. I had so many fun times there, met so many people from all walks of life. Greek food fairs, and Jewish ones, too. I saw amazing shows at the JCC, too.

Those memories of mine can't be taken. But I pray for the people in Squirrell Hill, and the Jewish community there, that they find some healing and that they are brought closer together as a group as well as residents of that fine city.