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Mykal McEldowney, IndyStar - USA TODAY NETWORK There is no post-Charlottesville. When I look back on my experience in Charlottesville, it is as if it happened yesterday. I can still smell the scent of tear gas in the air, feel the tightness in my chest from the fumes, hear the shouts that 'Jews will not replace us,' feel the twinge of panic that maybe I am truly in danger.

I take the singular, deep steadying breath required to maintain one's calm in the face of unabashed bigotry, racism and violence, and I begin to tell the story. I first learned about the Unite the Right Rally when I was leading a summer trip in Poland and Israel. My sister, Rabbi Rachel Schmelkin, had posted a call to action on Facebook, requesting that her fellow clergy come to Virginia to stand up against neo-Nazis and other alt-right, white nationalist activists. I sent her a message right away: What could I do to help?

No, I am not a member of the clergy, but I am a Jew who has had the privilege of teaching that the promise of 'never again' is a moral imperative. I felt I did not have a choice. For my sister and brother-in-law, and for all oppressed peoples in the world, I decided to go to Charlottesville. When I arrived on Thursday evening, there was already a palpable tension in the air, which only built throughout the day on Friday.

That morning, my sister took me to Emancipation Park (the scheduled location of the rally) where we saw members of various white nationalist groups surveying the scene. I then attended a non-violent direct-action training, where we were educated on how to protect ourselves from both white nationalists and police officers. The training was fascinating, but I did not take part in that action the next day.

Instead, my family woke up early and marched in solidarity with the interfaith and inter-ethnic communities. From there, we split up. My mother, sister, and I went to First United Methodist Church where my sister and I intended to camp out for the day. The steps of the church directly overlook Emancipation Park, so we brought guitars, microphones and amplifiers outside with the intention of singing songs of love to drown out the hate across the street. My brother-in-law decided to meet us later in the morning, choosing to go to synagogue for Shabbat morning services. Parting in that moment seemed insignificant – the synagogue and the church are only a few blocks away from each other.

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Later, we would find that a few blocks can feel like an ocean when they are swarming with racism and anti-Semitism. As services commenced at the synagogue, my sister and I began singing. We were able to play through a few songs of our set list before we heard helicopters overhead and were swiftly ushered inside. The church was experiencing the first of many lockdowns of the day in response to the last-minute canceling of the rally. When the lockdown was lifted, we went back outside and continued playing songs and encouraging others to sing with us. This again lasted for a few songs before we had to lock down again. At this point to recount each moment in order would take too much time, so I will simply share with you some of the things that I saw in Charlottesville on Aug. 12.