Last Saturday, I received an e-mail from Volunteers for Israel (http://www.vfi-usa.org/index.html)advising that help was needed to support the military effort in Gaza.
As a "veteran" of the program during the first Gulf War in 1991, this was not a difficult decision although it meant leaving Ellen and my job for two weeks.
I gave it further thought over the next few days, and had a long discussion with Ellen on Wednesday night. As usual, she was incredibly supportive ... although she's not eager for me to serve in Sderot. (She was not amused when I told her that I had indicated to VFI that I would be eager to go to Sderot so long as they would guarantee that I'd always be within 15 seconds of a shelter.)
On Thursday, the preparation process was underway: flight arrangements, medical and insurance forms, application to VFI and advising my son, David, that I would be joining him for Shabbat in Jerusalem on two upcoming weekends. He was very excited, and immediately began constructing a shopping list of things he and his friends need: everything from ibuprofen to bourbon. ("Just like coming to a college party," David said. "Bring drugs and booze.")
Most of the people I've spoken with have told me they think I'm crazy to go to Israel now. Those who know me well know that "Frank" and "crazy" are usually redundant. Secondary reactions have ranged from "good luck" to "God bless" to (my favorite) "keep your head down."
More to follow...
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