He wanted quiet for his family. But what about the noise from his own heart?
ITwas close to three o’clock in the morning when Asher and Dina Rubenstein finally drifted off to sleep, after hours of taking turns pacing up and down their tiny dirah as their brand-new baby boy screamed.
Then, in the park below, the music started.
Elaytzur’s “Od Yoter Tov” coming from the phones of the rebellious teens who slunk around the local park like stray cats, in tight pants and white sneakers, boom box or nargillah pipes on their shoulders.
Asher usually saw them sprawled on the park benches when he went to Shacharis — he was a neitz kind of guy — but always averted his eyes.
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