It's been a really long, terrible day. I didn't know Daniel Wultz. Our daughter Meira went to school with him, and since it was a small school everyone pretty much knew everyone else, at least a little bit. My husband Charles had sat on a school committee a few years back with Tuly, Daniel's father. So we had a connection, and we went to the funeral. But we would have gone anyway. Friends have sent their condolences to us, as if we were in mourning too. And I suppose we all have been. Aside from the obvious mourning of a young, vibrant life, violently taken from everyone, we have also been mourning the fact of terrorism hitting too close to home; something Charles and I came to understand from our years in Israel, and recent years of hearing firsthand accounts from our friends still there, or knowing people like our brother-in-law Simon's own family grief, having also lost two relatives in attacks. But we didn't quite expect that it would affect a family from nearby Weston, Florida. SO, AS I sat in Chabad of Weston today and listened to all the eulogies, grief and anger overwhelmed me. Grief was obvious as I heard about this beautiful 16-year-old boy, the believer, the questioner, the one who volunteered with our special needs camp at the Posnack JCC last summer, the one who sat with lonely kids on the school bus, the one who ultimately died because he was inadvertently shielding his father and thus saved him from the bomber's shrapnel. The anger is a bit more complicated to explain, and it didn't just start today - although I could recognize the anger in me from having to watch my eldest daughter and her classmates cry because the horrible conflict, usually far away, had come to visit their school and made them confront reality, albeit at too young an age. Are children from David Posnack Hebrew Day School supposed to get blown up at shwarma restaurants in Tel Aviv because they want to be with Israeli family over Pessah break? Of course, no child should be blown up anywhere for wanting to have a meal. SINCE THE attack on April 17 I have also been fuming at something more professionally related. At the press coverage, or lack of it in certain areas. The Israeli press, of course, has been all over this story. More so, in some ways I am told, than before with similar bombing victims. Even though many other Americans have been killed and wounded over the years in terror attacks, maybe Daniel's story struck a different chord this time. The local (South Florida) media has obviously been all over this from the very beginning. But while I was not surprised, I began to boil over recently that no one in the national media had done anything. Instead, we've had daily stories of the Duke Rape Case, Alligators Eating Floridians, both of which I suppose are true local stories with their own importance. But a story that could inform and teach Americans about an ongoing conflict and how it can affect them at home? Nope, that hasn't been deemed worthwhile. And it's not only about Daniel, his family and their personal tragedy. It's about how the terrorists rejoiced in killing, not only Israelis but Americans too, because doing so doubly fulfills their mission of hate. Shouldn't the American viewing public hear about that? My good friend Linda Scherzer says her take on it is that the media (and the public) are tired of Mideast violence, even when it affects their own citizens. Very, very sad. So, that is how things are here in Florida. A lovely family is now one less because they buried their son this week. A beautiful boy who died only because he was a Jew and wanted a kosher for Pessah shwarma while on vacation in Israel. The writer, an Israeli-American citizen, is a former journalist and currently teaches media education and works in public relations. She lives in Hollywood, Florida.