HP Community Words

 Most likely to. A game many of us are familiar with. A question often asked, “most likely to return to their hometown to raise their family”. Without hesitation, no matter where I am, or who I am with, my name is unanimously said and each time my reaction is the same. A proud smile. A badge of honor. At that moment I always think to myself “why would I raise my kids anywhere else”.  I wish I could say that these last few days haven’t made me second guess my answer. Even more, I wish that an atrocity like the fatal shooting that occurred in Highland Park hasn’t made me second guess my faith in humanity. My faith in our country.  I’ve found peace in knowing that while the present may not be what we hoped for, our future has the power to be just that. A place even stronger, safer and brighter than any could have imagined. I have seen my community come together to do the unimaginable. Instead of complaining about what hasn’t been done, highland park and it’s supporters will be the reason

  Although I am not technically a Highland Park resident, I still consider HP to be my home. I grew up in Deerfield but my father and his brothers all attended and graduated HPHS. My grandparents still live in Highland Park.  I used to love listening to the stories about my dad and his brothers as teens in the 80's running around and living carefree in their town of Highland Park. Even the oral surgeon who performed my wisdom teeth surgery last August in Highland Park (located right off Central where the horrific massacre took place) knew my dad and his brothers and described this era as "The Charlie Brown days." Meaning, this town didn't have a care in the world. Friends, Family and neighbors felt SAFE. My grandparents were not worried about their teenagers running around Highland Park with their friends because they didn't have to. No one could have ever imagined that this place we call home would become "ground zero" for another mass shooting.  I alwa

I’ve been so haunted by the thought of the silence on central Avenue. I finally broke down on the night of July 5th. I spent July 5th out walking and drinking to clear my head. I sobbed until I fell asleep. I’m a quiet crier. The cry I had, while necessary, felt so unnatural. Unnatural because it’s not natural to have to feel this amount of sadness and despair. It might’ve been the shock in my body finally slipping away. I pretended like I was okay until I finally knew I wasn’t.  I’ll never understand. Last Thursday, I went to visit my parents and took the time to walk around downtown Highland Park. Wanted to see what had changed and what was new. My brother working at Zuzus. I went to visit the Landmark where I once managed at. My first job ever. I was flooded with memories of my time growing up in our incredible neighborhood. I’ll admit, I spent my time growing up anxiously awaiting the opportunity to leave Highland Park. Wanted to leave the bubble. We all did at some point. But on T

I was not there   My family was not there  But my community, my people, they were there  My heart was there It is shattered  I feel like there is a crying child sitting on my chest  I am grateful for the heroes and the helpers I realize that our only way forward  Our only way out Is to implement change Real change We are strong together We are HP Strong

  I moved to Israel in 2018. I left my family and friends behind and moved to a place I have always wanted to live, knowing and understanding that I would have to miss big events. Birthdays, deaths, life altering moments. I moved to a place that is known for having occasional stabbings, bombings, and acts of terror. I took this risk, my family understood the risks as well. Last year, for 10 days I ran back and forth from my apartment to the building's bomb shelter. 10 days of sleepless nights, feeling the earth shake, hearing and seeing missiles fly above my head. I still get scared when I hear a motorcycle start or something heavy fall.  I knew the risk I took when I moved here. But I never expected to get the call on the 4th of July from my father, who with my mother was running Deerfield's big celebration breakfast. Dad said "we are ok, but they shut us down early. Mom is very upset. There is an active shooting happening at the Highland Park parade. Call your friends an

  I moved to Highland Park when I was twelve, in the summer before 7th grade. It wasn't my first move, nor would it be my last, but I was still apprehensive and unsure. Moving is difficult as a kid: you have to start from scratch every time, laying down new roots. The move to Highland Park was like no other. People were so welcoming, the community was so vibrant. The minute I got there, I belonged. And I knew that I belonged, because people made me feel it. In the halls of Edgewood and HPHS, on the soccer field and the track, along Central Ave in HP and Sheridan Rd in Highwood, I forged lifelong childhood memories that fill me with warmth. Highland Park is so special to me. It's more than just a place that welcomed me and my family. It's where I was introduced to Jewish life, hopping from bar to bat mitzvah and being invited to family Chanukah parties. This proved to be formational, as I've since converted to Judaism and thrown myself into my own Jewish community.  It&#