North American Airlines flight 73 finally touched down in Jerusalem shortly before two. It took about thirty minutes to claim our luggage and go through customs.

I was pleased that our rental car--a white four-door Taurus--was all ready to go. The car rental agency had even remembered to include a car seat for Becky. I was half-expecting we'd be stuck with some old clunker, but this was a beauty and with only 739 miles on the odometer, it still had that wonderful new car smell.

Maggie bought a map of Israel in the airport lobby, and before we left home, I'd printed out a map from Yahoo and marked the route from the airport to the King David Hotel with a yellow highlighter. Getting behind the wheel, I handed the Yahoo map to Josh and appointed him navigator.

It was about 3:30 when we reached the hotel. I pulled into the underground parking garage and spotted a convenient space straight ahead on the far wall, in the corner. Maneuvering the car around, I backed it into the space. I had a hunch Josh would want to pull it out later, so I decided to make it easier for him.

A door from the parking garage took us directly to the main lobby. Our check-in at the front desk went smoothly and in no time the bellhop had our luggage on a hand cart and led us to our room, #301. It was a spacious two-bedroom corner suite on the third floor, elegantly appointed with a sitting room and two baths.

All of us dug right into the dreaded task of unpacking and organizing our belongings in closets and drawers. "Mind if I turn on the TV?" asked Josh. "I'm curious to see what kind of programs they have in Israel."

"Sure, go ahead," I said, handing him the remote from the bedside table.

CNN International came on the screen and before Josh could hit the channel surf button, we heard the newscaster's bleak words and immediately stopped to listen: "Passengers and crew were evacuated from North American Airlines flight 73 earlier today when reports of a bomb forced them to make an unscheduled stop at London's Heathrow Airport. The flight from New York's Kennedy Airport was en route to Jerusalem. The assigned bomb squad successfully located the bomb in the cargo hold, and removed it from the aircraft; however, before they were able to defuse it, the bomb detonated several yards from the plane. Two police officers from the squad were killed instantly and a third is in critical condition.

Scotland Yard has a suspect in custody--Mohammed Hassan al-Ibn al-Takriti--an Iraqi national suspected of ties with El Quaida. So far they have not been able to get any information from the suspect. A remote control device was found on Takriti's person, and Scotland Yard officials speculate he planned to activate the bomb while in flight over Israel."

Maggie joined in, crying, "Thank God!" and crossed herself.

We were silent for a few minutes, then we all began talking at once. The "what ifs" were frightening.

After we regained our composure, we resumed unpacking. Josh left the news channel on, and we kept our ears open for any further news updates.

I suggested it would be nice if we could have dinner at an outdoor cafe. It was still pretty warm, but I felt that eating at the hotel our first night wouldn't give us a true feel of Israel's culture.

Maggie whipped out a guide book from her bulky shoulder bag and flipped the pages, in search of an outdoor cafe near the hotel. She pored through the guidebook with the Yahoo map close at hand.

"Look," she said, "here's one only a couple blocks from here: "L'Chaim." The guidebook gives it five stars. It sounds quite charming plus it has indoor and outdoor seating."

Although it was only five o'clock, normally too early to eat if we were back home, the time change and jet lag had our bodies so confused, we decided to have an early dinner. As we made the short walk to the restaurant, it must have been quite obvious we were tourists. The locals seemed delighted to see Americans, and greeted us with enthusiastic smiles and waves. Becky smiled and said "Hi!" to everyone she saw.

Arriving at L 'Chaim's, we chose one of the outdoor tables under a large shade tree. A waiter appeared instantly, bowed and gave us menus.

"Someseeng to dreenk?" he asked in heavily accented English.

I ordered martinis for us and cokes for Josh and Becky.

"Ah, Koka-Kola," the waiter nodded, as he scurried off. He returned in less than a minute with our drinks.

We were thankful for the wide selection of entrees and the children's menu. Maggie and I decided to try one of the local dishes while Josh chose a T-Bone steak and Becky, her usual burger and fries.

Once we ordered, Josh mentioned that he'd seen a police car pass by several times in just the few minutes we'd been sitting there.

"Don't forget, son," I said, "there's been problems in the Middle East for centuries, so Israeli security is very tight. I don't know about the rest of you, but I find that reassuring."

We all enjoyed our meal. The food was mouthwatering and our waiter, if anything, was over-attentive. I'd begun watching the traffic too and saw the police car cruising very slowly at short, regular intervals. One of the two officers seemed to be scrutinizing the patrons at the restaurant. I grew a bit uneasy, wondering if they were looking for someone in particular.

After dinner, Maggie suggested we see the Wailing Wall. Checking the map, it wasn't very far, so we decided to walk. By that time, the sun had set and it was a pleasant seventy-five degrees.

The Wailing Wall was fascinating and we were amazed to see the large crowd still deep in prayer. After walking around the Temple Mount area for a few hours, I looked at my watch. It was a little after nine-thirty. We could see Becky was getting antsy and tired so we decided to head back to the hotel. At the same time, I noticed the same police cruiser I'd seen before at the restaurant and decided it wasn't a good idea to be out on the streets after dark.








Continue to Chapter 27


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