The expectation of instant reporting, instant analysis, instant takeaways, makes us all shallower. But that’s the era we live in
I’ve learned to ignore the sounds of ambulances, at least most of the time. My living room overlooks a busy Jerusalem highway, one of the main arteries leading to Hadassah Hospital’s Mount Scopus location. Along with the cars, trucks, and rumbling buses, ambulances regularly wail along this route.
But this Monday morning, the shrieking sirens just wouldn’t stop.
I went over to the window and took in the sight of ambulance after ambulance speeding down the road. A quick check of the news confirmed my fears: There had been a terror attack at the Ramot Junction.
I pass the Ramot Junction often enough to know the deadly potential of those words. This bus stop is the point where residents of Jerusalem’s northern neighborhoods can easily hop on a bus toward almost anywhere in the city. There’s always a crowd of all ages, types, and stages there as buses continually pull up and pull out.
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