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 building. This number was to swell to thousands before the service was over. We were to be joine...