Three years after the Tree of Life attack, my community struggles to feel safe
One of our Sukkot rituals helps me think about what it means to fight against evil.
Someone’s after me. I’m in the back row of the Tree of Life chapel, on the right side of the room, next to an older man. Since this is a dream, I’m not sure who he is. I look to my left and see a man in a dark suit and pork pie hat running down the aisle to the back of the chapel. He opens a closet and grabs a gun. The man in the hat aims at us, and I want to grab the old man and run, but he is screaming and won’t move. Then I’m screaming too. I run toward the door, looking for a hiding place. I wake up, terrified.
Earlier that day I attended an outdoor luncheon at the synagogue where we rent space. Tree of Life is still deciding on rebuilding plans. It has been three years now since the shooting, and we still have not reached a consensus. There were about 200 of us gathered under an outdoor tent, celebrating a bar mitzvah, the coming of age of the youngest in a family of four boys. It had been a long time since I’d been to such a large social event, and I was glad to have a chance to be with people in person.
Then a friend asked about security at this party. I looked around and saw not just smiling celebrants but security breaches. There were traffic cones in front of the area where we stood, but a car could plow through them without any trouble. A shooter could approach from any direction, if he chose to.
