What matters is that something is happening

Hans Jonas was born into a German Jewish household in 1903. As a boy, he longed for excitement. However, the most exciting events always seemed to be happening elsewhere. It seemed unlikely that he could fulfill his boyhood “dreams of glory” in the monotony of everyday life there. Before the First World War, the mostContinue reading “What matters is that something is happening”

If we were on the train to Auschwitz together

In honour of Holocaust Remembrance Day, here is a short memoir I wrote about a train ride home from work one day about four years ago in Toronto: “507 Wilson. 507 Wilson. Please call control,” an automated male voice said over the intercom as I descended the steps to the King Station platform. There wasContinue reading “If we were on the train to Auschwitz together”