2:30 A.M. in Gaza

Though our return address says ‘St. Louis’, our small city is technically its own entity. We have a mayor, public works, and zoning commission. We also have our own police force, which is rather large for our city’s population.

There’s rarely a day when I don’t see a patrolling cruiser at least once. Very often our home is lit by the flashing red and blue of someone caught speeding, or running the stop sign at the corner. Sometimes I’ll be shaken from sleep by sirens and racing engines, but they always pass by.

I’ve yet to fear for the safety of my family. The only worry I have is that the sirens will wake Ian; during the day, he likes to watch the police cars fly down the street.

Would that we were all so blessed.

‘Suddenly, the room shook violently, and I heard the deafening sound of what I thought was a sonic boom. The curtains blew wildly as if a storm was raging outside. My first thought was to look at Mohammad. His eyes were wide open; but thank God, he didn’t jump or cry. My wife jumped up shaking; and her hand extended to cover Mohammad’s ears.’

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International Middle East Media Center