Aharon Katzir Memorial Volume

It was a warm, sunny morning in Rehovot. The sky was c1ear as it always is in June. As I walked to the Institute that morning, too many cars were passing by, too many people were hurrying onto the Institute''s grounds. No one was smiling, acquaintances were recognized by a slight nod of the head. When I turned the corner, a few people already had gathered on the lawn in front of the Jacob Ziskind ...