Sunday, June 18, 2006 | 7:39 a.m.
Today, just like every other day of the year, I think about my father.
I think most children think about their parents and, depending on the age of the child, some of it is bad and most of it is good. As we get older, and especially after life's cycle has taken them away from us, we are lucky when all of our thoughts are good ones. Mine are. I am lucky.
On this most special day set aside for us to give our fathers the consideration they deserve, I am thinking of a trip I took to Israel last week. I thought about my father often during the few days I was there.
In part, it was because we were meeting with many of his old friends and colleagues with whom he worked in 1947 in preparation for the creation of the State of Israel and, in part, it was because events that were taking place while we were there caused me to reflect on his words of wisdom and caution. Words he uttered at another distant time but words that, unfortunately, were so true even now.
I did not speak with one Israeli who was not visibly upset at the news about the Palestinian family that was killed on the beach, the one that left a girl crying for her dead father on television sets the world over. To a person, the people I spoke with were not only saddened by the spectacle but horrified that it might have been the result of Israeli artillery - however accidental it may have been.
Even the soldiers I talked to were adamant that what happened is not what Israelis do, because civilians are not on their radar scopes. Terrorists are another story.
I remember my father's words many years ago when he discussed with us the propaganda that emanated not only from the Middle East but also from certain quarters within our own government that laid the blame for all the fighting in the region on the Israeli doorstep. He told us that for economic and political reasons, it was easier to blame the Jews than to address the real causes of the problems, because geopolitical considerations as well as oil interests kept getting in the way.
He was right then and his words, unfortunately, are right now. Had he been here last week he would have concurred with one Israeli's assessment - speaking, I believe, for most people in that tiny Jewish state - that Israel could not be to blame for that family's death. And here's the bad part. When the truth came out, he predicted, very few people in the world would ever hear about it.
That is exactly what happened. To say the real story was underreported in this and other countries is an understatement. From the moment the tragedy happened, word reached across Israel that something fishy was going on because it took a very long time for the injured and dead to be transferred to Israeli hospitals, where they could be cared for or where autopsies could be performed.
You can speculate about the reasons it took so long, but this is not the time. The facts are that those people were killed by a Palestinian bomb or land mine that was buried on the beach to kill Israeli soldiers. While it was a terrible accident that took the lives of the Arab family, it was no accident that the explosives were there in the first place. They were placed there to do the very thing that happened - kill people.
The world, especially the propagandists who like to foment trouble between Israel and her neighbors, were quick to lay blame where it didn't belong. And, when the facts did come out, the world media and government leaders were very slow, if at all, to acknowledge the real culprit.
So, not much has changed since the early days when my father warned us about what would happen when it came to Israel, and today, when I must repeat that very warning to the generation that follows mine.
What has stayed constant, though, is that the fathers of the world - whether they are here or are no longer with us, with some of them fighting bravely for freedom in Israel's neighborhood - are still teaching us right from wrong by their deeds and their words.
As good sons and daughters, the least we can do is listen and pay heed to our fathers. The alternative is that one day, many years from now, a grandchild will be lamenting this very same concern. That is not what any father wished for the generations that follow.
This may not be the most pleasant way to wish my father-in-law, Arnold, and all the fathers of America - with us or not - a happy Father's Day, but it is the way my father would have done it.
I can try to do no less. Happy Father's Day.
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