The Siren

Today, the blaring, piercing, sound of a siren will represent the six million Jewish souls that perished during the Holocaust.

The siren that halts an entire country.
The siren that unites an entire country.
The siren that represents Israel.

Today, this siren will cut a conversation short, stop a soldier’s salute in midair, freeze cars on the highway. This siren will cause a freeze frame of every city; there will not be one person walking, talking, eating or praying. Today, at ten o’ clock in the morning, I can only imagine everyone looking up towards the clear blue sky, searching for the souls that perished while saying a quick “hello”, reminding them that they have not been forgotten.

Every year at HAFTR High School in New York, they would show us a video at our Yom HaShoah assembly of the booming siren stopping traffic in a way that no traffic guard could ever possibly dream of. Every person would turn their key out of the ignition, lock their car, and step outside onto the street, standing as still as can be, listening, thinking, remembering.

Today, I know this small but simply powerful sound of a siren will be forever inscribed in my heart, a memory, never to be forgotten.