Dear friends, readers, and fellow seekers,
I’m glad you’re here.
Some of you may know me from my Times of Israel blog or the essays I’ve written for newspapers around the country—from The Cleveland Plain Dealer to Deseret News. Others may be new, arriving through a recommendation or a link shared by someone who thought these stories might mean something to you.
Wherever you’re coming from, welcome. This is the beginning of something new.
Why this, why now?
Since 2017, I’ve been writing about Jewish memory in places where it’s almost gone.
Towns with no synagogue, but a Star of David etched in a war memorial. Places where the last mezuzah came down decades ago, but locals still remember the rabbi’s wife who baked cookies for the whole block. Stories that haven’t been told—not because they aren’t worth telling, but because they weren’t expected to matter beyond their time.
But they do matter. They always have. And I’ve found that when I write them down, people respond with a kind of gratitude that feels spiritual. As if the very act of remembering helps stitch something back together.
This Substack is my way of creating space for those stories—and for the people who want to carry them forward.
What kind of community is this?
I imagine this space as a quiet porch light in a darkening world. A place to reflect, remember, and reconnect with things that feel real and lasting.
You’ll find:
Intimate essays about small-town Jewish life, memory, and meaning
Historical portraits of overlooked communities and people
Reflections on belonging, faith, legacy, and the quiet ways we shape the future
Occasionally, notes from the road as I research, write, and share these stories across the country
This isn’t just a newsletter—it’s an act of preservation. A love letter to the idea that even a single memory can illuminate what we thought was lost.
What to expect
Posts twice a month, sometimes more if I’m especially moved to write
All content will be free to read—my goal is reach and resonance, not paywalls
If I ever add paid options, they’ll come with special essays, early access, or behind-the-scenes glimpses of the research process
But for now, your presence and your reading are gift enough.
Join me
If this sounds like something you want to be part of, I hope you’ll subscribe.
You can also share this with someone who loves history, storytelling, or the quiet dignity of a forgotten gravestone cleaned by a stranger.
Thank you for being here at the beginning.
With care,
Austin Albanese