It was a beautiful day on March 1, 1994, as Nachum Sasonkin, an Israeli-born 18-year-old student at the Lubavitcher Yeshiva in Brooklyn, rode in a van with his friends, returning to yeshiva from a visit to the hospital in Manhattan where their Rebbe, R’ Menachem Mendel Schneerson—lay in a coma. They were young men, teenagers, studying in yeshiva; everything was just the way they had hoped it would be. But then, all of a sudden and out of nowhere, everything went black. Someone was shooting at their school bus.
Growing With Moshe Sasonkin
It was a beautiful day on March 1, 1994, as Nachum Sasonkin, an Israeli-born 18-year-old student at the Lubavitcher Yeshiva in Brooklyn, rode in a van with his friends, returning to yeshiva from a visit to the hospital in Manhattan where their Rebbe, R’ Menachem Mendel Schneerson—lay in a coma. They were young men, teenagers, studying in yeshiva; everything was just the way they had hoped it would be. But then, all of a sudden and out of nowhere, everything went black. Someone was shooting at their school bus.