It's Not All in My Head
Last week, I wrote about my summer in Israel in 1975, when during a weekend trip to Jerusalem, I stepped over a small refrigerator that had been cast out on the sidewalk in Zion Square. Ten minutes later, while I was exchanging money in a bank a few blocks away, I felt a percussive blast, then watched as mayhem ensued outside; there were sirens, people running, blood everywhere. It was a nightmare. That refrigerator bomb, claimed by the PLO, killed nearly two dozen people, most of them Arab... Sign in to see full entry.