Yehuda Lahav was a man of the world of yesterday, but worried his entire life about tomorrow.
Who, if not him, grasped the importance of constantly striving to correct the present.
As a child, he was put on the last train leaving Czechoslovakia for Hungary. He survived the Holocaust, but his parents were murdered.
A small boy who has lost his mother and father and was left alone knows: This world is a dangerous place, everyone who comes into it is threatened, nobody is safe, and we must stand on guard.
Yehuda stood guard.
In the face of the many worries nestled in his heart, he tended to put them into words. Every time he envisioned doom, he would call and urge: You must write this, you must warn others. Until the day he died he believed in the power of the spoken word and the written word, as if they had the strength to bring life or death.
Even as a veteran journalist and holder of a Ph.D. in history, he was still bound by an umbilical to his native country and his father's home, places that he left but which he never left behind. As if to fill in a void, he became an expert on Eastern Europe.
He departed the darkness in favor of the light. There was no one in this country quite like Yehuda, who was dealt a cruel hand of fate.
Want to enjoy 'Zen' reading - with no ads and just the article? Subscribe todaySubscribe now