The boys would go home for Pesach and Succos, and the place lost its energy; the town became a shadow of itself
I grabbed my handbag, made sure I had money, then checked the time.
“No, actually, I won’t go now. It’s boys’ time.”
That’s what it was like to grow up alongside the yeshivah. As a resident of Gateshead, I wasn’t bound by the boys’ or girls’ times for shopping (they were for the many students who filled the town), but I didn’t want to be the lone girl in a swarm of boys at the grocery.
Gateshead is a small place, and we grew up around the five yeshivos that call it home: the two main yeshivos and three smaller yeshivos. The great yeshivah ketanah was two blocks from my house. If I was going anywhere, I walked past the yeshivah.
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