It’s the first Monday of the month. The sirens are being tested. One minute and twenty-six seconds of terrifying howl. 61 years ago, during the Cuban Missile Crisis, I (9) walked to the convenience store at eight in the morning to buy ten kilograms of sugar and ten kilograms of flour on behalf of my mother. That would save us from nuclear war.
Today I ask myself the question: if on an autumnal Wednesday morning the sirens continue to blare, do we really know what to do?
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A version of this article also appeared in the newspaper on September 7, 2023.