Twenty years ago next Friday night, Mrs. Carl and I and our four children, and my wife's niece who had spent the summer as our mother's helper, boarded an El Al flight from New York's Kennedy airport to Tel Aviv. For Mrs. Carl and me and our American-born children, this was our aliya flight. We immigrated to Israel that night. It was August 19, 1991, the 8th day of the Jewish month of Elul.
I
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