My prevailing memory from that evening, the night of November 29, 1947, is the sound of the deafening cries that exclaimed over and over again: "A Jewish State, Free Aliyah."

Lorries and trucks rumbled by our house on Borochov Street in Tel Aviv, and we beheld the astonishing sight of masses of people hanging from truck roofs and hoods, and piled up inside and outside of the vehicles. And all were shouting in unison: “A Jewish State, Free Aliyah.” The voices continued deep into the night and right through until dawn. The crowds (could I have imagined it?) tapped on the cars’ metal exterior as they passed. Tapped? They hammered them like crazy.

My father lifted me, a little boy at the time, out of bed to witness the historic event. I remember so clearly that we went to King George Street, crossed Meir Park, I guess on route to Mughrabi Square, and here my recollection wraps up in one last memory: People dancing, hundreds of them raising flags. A midnight riot. "A Jewish State, Free Aliyah."