The fourth lecture of the series on fathers and sons features readings of two excerpts from a recent novel, The Forgotten, dealing with Alzheimer's. This theme has dominated all my tales, the father representing the past, the son the future. What then is the secret of their togetherness? The quest for my own father as well as the desire to pass on the love I had for him constitute the framework if not the substance of my writings. What we receive must be communicated. Not to transmit a heritage is to betray it. The past year witnessed personal as well as global milestones. My son began his studies at Yale University. The world Jewish scene was turbulent: the Soviet empire is disintegrating, and I have a new colleague, Mikhail Gorbachev. Yet much still needs to be changed. What has changed made possible a moving trip to Uman to visit the grave of Rabbi Nachman; there was much beauty in that experience, including the reluctance of the Hasidim to leave the place. . . Regarding German reunification, people weren’t concerned; yet I think it’s morally dangerous to the Jewish people and to Jewish memory. In the Middle East, whatever happens with Iraq, Israel will lose. Israel is America’s friend, but the way Israel is being treated even by our own state department is terribly, terribly wrong. Our conferences on hatred are taking place because hatred is the key word that defines the real problem threatening our society. I chose to read this second excerpt from the new novel because I like to describe events that are marginal, and one is the battle for the Old City of Jerusalem—which the protagonist Elhanan experienced and recounts to his son, Malkiel. I would like a son to become the repository of all that his father didn’t have, all that his father no longer has. An essay contributed to a volume by Clifton Fadiman includes: Amidst the ruins which surround us, we proclaim our passion to start over again. And in spite of the persecutions, I celebrate the Jewish people that have been subjected to those persecutions.