What possessed my husband and me to take two of our three kids on a 24-hour trip into wartime Israel on Christmas Eve, when we are a visibly Muslim family, one of whom is a 16-year-old male? The story begins long before Oct. 7.
I first walked Palestine Park in 1953 as a teenager. It’s a soccer-field-sized scale model of the Holy Land, sculpted in 1874 along the southwestern shore of Chautauqua Lake in upstate New York.