For Whom the Siren Tolls

In South Williamsburg, where Hassidim dwell, as opposed to North Williamsburg, where Hipsters party, the Friday evening air raid siren is not meant as a warning that the Royal Canadian Air Force is launching a sneak attack on Brooklyn. Indeed, sirens blare every Friday before sundown as a portent to men in long coats and women behind strollers to stop what they’re doing and prepare for Shabbat. It is a call to sacred time. But this Sept. 11, as the eve of the Sabbath, the eve of Rosh Hashanah, and the 25th anniversary of the attacks on the World Trade Center converge in a sort of trifecta, that familiar blast carries multiple meanings at once.

Outsiders put off by the shrill blast filling the air might argue that a siren should be reserved for genuine emergencies, not religious rituals. After all, what if there’s a tornado approaching? As a group, most Hassidim seem at ease with the invasive sound, especially when it signifies the dual onset of the Sabbath and the joyous Jewish New Year, an occurrence that hasn’t happened since 2023. One exception might be Jews returned from Israel, where they became all too familiar with the shriek of sirens. Do they really need to be reminded of missile attacks?

The commemoration of 9/11@25 does muddy the sirens’ message. When each victim’s name is read at 9/11 memorials, it is a bell that chimes, not an air horn that blasts or a siren that blares for an open-ended length of time.

It’s not as if the Hassidim are unfamiliar with the horrific events that transpired a quarter of a century ago. Many members of the Hassidic community witnessed the destruction of the World Trade Center with their own eyes. Those on the streets of Williamsburg had direct views. They watched the towers burn and fall just across the water. After all, television sets were never allowed into their homes, and smartphones hadn’t yet been invented. So, electronic devices didn’t filter them from the unfolding catastrophe.

Thus, the question becomes: how best to handle the sirens this Sept. 11? Should they be silenced entirely to remember those who are no longer able to speak? Or should they howl extra-long and loud to emphasize the triple meaning of the day? I propose neither.

Instead, the sirens should be turned on for their usual interlude before sundown. (Actually, the sirens shrill twice — first as a penultimate warning, then a little later alerting Hassidic listeners that the time has come to stop pressing buttons, go to synagogue to pray and return home for the Shabbat meal.) Those outside the Hassidic community shouldn’t get to hijack a ritual that has particular significance. But I would add another time that day to set off the sirens, a wail that would sound at 8:46 a.m., the precise time the first plane hit the North Tower. It would alert residents to pause and look up at One World Trade Center, the building that replaced the Twin Towers and is viewable today from the streets of Williamsburg. Simply put, 9/11@25 is special, a date meant for all of us to reflect and remember. 

Born in Brooklyn, journalist Michael Antonoff writes about technology from New York City. He lived in California for 5 years covering Silicon Valley.