After 11 people were killed at Tree of Life synagogue, mourners look to each other seeking to regain some sense of security

This article is more than 1 year old

This article is more than 1 year old

On Saturday night, Aiello’s pizza joint in Squirrel Hill was more packed than usual. Despite the tragic events of the day, just for a little while, people were trying to forget.

'Stop the words of hate,' Pittsburgh rabbi urges US leaders as survivors speak Read more

Students sat at the bar telling jokes and watching college football. A large family sat eating pizza, drinking beers and laughing. Slowly, just a little, the weight of reporting on the massacre at the Tree of Life synagogue seemed to lift. The Red Sox-Dodgers World Series game was on another TV.

All of sudden, a loud scream. The laughter stopped, replaced by sobbing and screaming. “No, no no,” cried an older woman, as she put down her phone. A family member reached to hold her.

“He died on the operating table,” the woman said. The rest of her table burst into uncontrollable sobbing. The family held each other.

The room was silent. Drained. The sobbing went on.

Eventually, the woman, still sobbing, apologized.

“I’m sorry,” she said. “We just found out that my brother died. He was the nicest guy in the world. Just a good guy.”

Two people sitting at the bar gathered napkins, handed them over and assured the women it was OK to cry. Members of the family continued to apologize for causing a scene. Eventually a couple, the husband a steelworker clad in Harley-Davidson gear, offered the family a ride home. Pittsburgh is a union town.

On Saturday, 11 people were killed and six wounded at Tree of Life. Ever since, throughout Squirrel Hill, mourners have looked to each other, seeking to regain some sense of security.

Sign up for the new US morning briefing

On Sunday afternoon, out on the streets, a crowd of around 100 gathered in the rain to sing.

“Courage, my friend, you do not walk alone,” they sang, adapting a South African anti-apartheid song. “Pittsburgh, my friend, you do not walk alone / We will walk with you, and sing your spirit home.”

The event was organized by IfNotNow, a progressive Jewish organization. Jess Gold, who attended Tree of Life with her family as a child, took the microphone to speak of her grief in seeing a space so special filled with violence and hate.

“I keep coming back,” she said, “to this idea that this person, who committed this act of hate, this act of violence, hated Jewish people for who we are as Jews, but also because Jews are standing in solidarity with other oppressed groups of people, because HIAS [the Hebrew Immigrant Aid Society], an organization that helps resettle refugees and immigrants, threatened him and threatened his hateful white supremacist values.”

Squirrel Hill: Mr Rogers' neighborhood comes together to mourn Read more

Gold implored the crowd to take action.

“It’s important for us to grieve and mourn and recognize these connections,” she said. “But it’s also important to recognize that there is power in these connections and … these connections can also be at the root of what we stand up to.”

Riffat Chughtai, a Muslim activist, took the microphone. She spoke of how when hate crimes were directed at Muslims after 9/11, Muslims in Pittsburgh used the opportunity to build support systems for immigrants.

“Immigrants are a huge component now of the success of Pittsburgh,” she said. “Pittsburgh is one of the cities that hosts a lot of immigrants from every corner of the world and we always do.”

“Remember,” she implored: “Pittsburgh Strong.”

Ru Emmons led the crowd in a chant.

“Ignoring antisemitism will not make us safer,” Emmons said.

“Safety in solidarity,” came the reply.

“More cops in shuls will not make us safer.”

“Safety in solidarity.”