Once, at a dinner with Amos and their wives, Danny went on at length and with great certainty about his premonition that his son, then still a boy, would one day join the Israeli military; that war would break out; and that his son would be killed. “What were the odds of all that happening?” said Barbara Tversky. “Minuscule. But I couldn’t talk him out of it. It was so unpleasant talking with him about these small probabilities that I just gave up.” It was as if Danny thought that by anticipating his feelings he might dull the pain they would inevitably bring.
