The last day of our trip was a powerful one on many levels. The amazing thing is that we only went three places and one of them was the restaurant for lunch!
We left about 30 minutes late which frustrated our staff. It ended up being perfect. Our first stop was at Shura Army base, a forensic center near Ramle where most of the victims from October 7th were brought to be identified. As we got there, they were loading the body of one of the IDF soldiers who was killed on Saturday in Gaza into the van to take him home to be buried. We go to watch them put him into the van, one of our group who was saying Kaddish for his mother said Kaddish, and we then escorted him out of the parking lot on his final journey. It was incredibly powerful and moving. To be able to do that type of honor for a soldier killed defending Israel and the Jewish people was overwhelming. These kids, and they are kids, put their lives at risk every day to protect Israel and the Jewish people. In America when I see a soldier, I always thank them for their service. In Israel, I want to begin doing that as well. It’s the very least I can do.
We met Noa, the woman who works to prepare the bodies for burial and for identification. Noa told us that she has 8 children and on October 7th, 7 of them, plus her husband and herself were drafted into the army. Think about what that must be like. It was yet another reminder that the Israeli people do not want this war. They do not want this war to go on indefinitely. They want the hostages returned. They want Hamas out of power and not able to kill Israelis any longer. They want peace and quiet on the border. They want to go back to living thir lives. They don’t want to worry about their children or their spouses in firefights. They want normalcy and that only comes with the return of the hostages and Hamas removed. They will deal with the emotions and fear to accomplish those goals. But it’s not what they want to do, despite what the media may tell you.
Noa speaking to us
We entered the base and came to the meeting room where we learned what they do here. After October 7th, this is where most of the bodies came for identification. They have a lab on the second floor to do DNA testing. They have DNA, dental records as well as fingerprint records for every IDF soldier . It made some of the identification easier but many of the bodies were burned or were just ashes. As we entered the actual area where they did this work, we were silent as the gravity of the work settled in each of us.
The meeting room in the base before you enter. Notice the pictures on the wall are all faces of those murdered on October 7.
In the room where they do the ritual preparation of the bodies, we heard what it was like after October 7th. I’m not sure that i can even try to describe what she was telling us. The condition of the bodies that came in. Some of the challenges identifying them. Some that were just ashes or parts of bodies. And the blood. That is the one thing that I will never forget. Her description of how much blood there was and they had to deal with. She told us about a Hassidic man who came in with bodies. He had been pulling dead bodies out of bomb shelters that Hamas attacked at Nova. He had blood halfway up his calf because to pull them out he had to step in pools of blood. The more stories she told us, the more horrified we were. Then she said something that has me thinking. She said that she can’t focus on how awful it was and what happened. Instead, she chooses to focus on the good in her life and what she can do to make the world better. She wants to cook a better dinner for her family. Be a better mother for her children. Be a better wife for her husband. Be a better friend, neighbor, and boss. It’s an incredible way to look at the world and an incredible attitude. It made me thing about what I am willing to do to deal with the anger and rage from Kfar Aza, Nova, and being at this base. Am I going to let the anger and rage consume me or am I going to turn it into something to make the world a better place. If Noa can do it after what she has seen, I know that I can as well.
We left the room and moved to the room where families have their chance to say their last goodbyes to their loved ones. It was hard sitting in that room, looking at the table where the body would be, knowing what families must be feeling and experiencing when their loved one is on that table. We were all quiet as we sat in the room and Noa talked to us. I think we were all grateful to have been in the room but even more grateful to leave it.
Listening to Noa talk about what she and her team have gone through since October 7th makes me think about all the people we normally don’t think about. They aren’t family members of those murdered or kidnapped. They haven’t lost family members who are serving in the IDF. Yet they are traumatized by what happened on October 7th and what has happened since October 7th. What is it like to have 7 of your 8 children drafted into the army to fight a war? What is it like to have both you and your spouse drafted into the army during a war, potentially leaving your chidren as orphans? What is it like to deal with that many dead bodies? With that many mutilated people? With remains that are just ashes? The entire country is dealing with PTSD and I’m not sure what it will mean long term.
Our last stop on the base was to visit the place where all the IDF Torahs that need repair or can’t be repaired are kept. It was incredible seeing how many Torahs they have there. As the Rabbi who is in charge told us, it’s the largest Aaron Kodesh (ark) in the world. He also told me that the IDF needs thousands of mezuzahs for their soldiers. They need them for the rooms where soldiers sleep in bases, outposts and bunkers both within Israel, along the borders (south and north) and in Judea and Samaria. They also need a few dozen at this point for buildings inside Gaza seized and used for headquartersWhen you watch this video I took, you will be amazed at what you see.
The IDF torahs in need of repair or that can’t be repairedThe sofer (scribe) repairing a Torah
As we left the base, we were all shaken by the experience. Like at Kfar Aza and Nova, we felt the death. We felt the overwhelming loss related to the murder of 1200 people on October 7th. As I think about how Israel has changed since October 7th, these feelings are a part of it. If I am feeling it after only 8 days, how powerful must it be for Israelis who have been feeling it for over 7 months?
We headed to our last stop of the trip, the Palmachim air force base. This is where they fly drones from. The base is highly secure, no pictures were allowed, and things were off the record. What I can tell you is that I was blown away by what we learned. I can tell you that the process Israel uses to actually have a drone drop a bomb is multi-leveled and requires multiple approvals. And I can tell you that the drone operator ALWAYS has the authority to abort the mission no matter what the supervisor says if they determine that there are civilians, women or children in the area and that it would not be appropriate to execute the mission. I can also tell you that this happens more often than you would expect. The drone operators are kids. Their support staff are 18-19 year olds. It’s always amazing to look at who comprises the Israeli military. It’s largely the 18-22 year old population. This is very different from the US military and not what most people think of when they think of an army. These are kids who are willing to do whatever is needed to defend their country and the Jewish people but really want to finish their service, travel, and then go to college and live their lives.
After the briefing, we had our final barbecue with the soliders on the base. These 18-25 year old men and women were so happy to have us there. We sat with them, talked, and got to know them. The DJ played great music, the food was good, and we had fun. After we ate, the DJ really got things moving and we got up and started dancing. The soldiers joined us as we danced and laughed and had a great time. As it got to be time for us to leave to take people to the airport, they had difficulty getting us to stop. We finally did, celebrating with the soldiers. Some of the guys on our trip were from Emek, a Jewish Day School in Los Angeles. They had some of their students write letters to the soldiers. The day after our visit, we got this note from the wife of one of the soldiers on the base. If you ever wonder if the letters you write, the visits you take to Israel, the support you provide really matter, I think this note proves how much they really do.
It was sad as some of the guys headed for Tel Aviv and then we dropped a bunch at Ben Gurion airport. The rest of us returned to Jerusalem and a few of us made plans for the next day. The trip was over but the experience will last a lifetime. There is so much for me to unpack from this trip. So much to understand about what it means to me to be a man, a husband, a father, and a Jew. What does it really mean to be a Zionist? what am I willing to die for that shows what I actually live for? Much much more. As I unpack it, I will share them.
I still have 2 days in Israel, two precious days in Israel. Two days to wake up in Jerusalem, smell the air, walk the streets. What a blessing that is. A day in Tel Aviv with meetings. Time to see friends. Israel is truly in my heart and in my soul. As my 21st trip approaches the end, I am already looking at possible trips 22, 23, 24, and 25 in the next year. I appreciate how lucky I am to get to go to Israel. How lucky I am to have the contacts and connections in Israel that I have. The Israeli friends that I have. An understand of the land, the history, the challenges, the struggles, and just how much it means to me as a Jew. If you haven’t been to Israel, I urge you to come, especially now. If you have been to Israel, I urge you to come back. I promise you will experience a different country and a have a different experience.
Shabbat (the Sabbath) is an interesting concept. A day of rest. A day where you don’t do work. A day of reflection. What is it really and what do words like rest, work, and reflection actually mean?
I have never found an interest in ‘keeping shabbat’ (following all the rules) in a strict sense. Not turning on light switches or the using the remote control never made sense to me. Driving isn’t really work, is it? You turn a key or push a button and it starts. After that, what’s the difference? Not turn on the oven or stove. Why can’t I push buttons on the microwave or the air fryer? And not carry? Why do pants have pockets anyway?
When I am in Israel, Shabbat becomes a little bit clearer. I typically find that I look forward to it for a number of reasons. First, by the time Friday afternoon arrives, I am usually wiped out. The thought of having a day with little to do and a chance to really unplug from the prior week is attractive. Going to the Kotel (Western Wall) for Shabbat services is always fun and meaningful. You’ll hear more about that later. A nice dinner with friends that is leisurely and relaxing? Sign me up.
On this trip I had the privilege of learning from three amazing people. As we were walking back to the hotel on Friday after an amazing morning at the Begin Center, I started asking Lori Palatnik, the founder of Momentum, about Shabbat. I understand the prohibition about not working and a day of rest, but my definition of work isn’t starting and driving a car, turning on the stove or oven and cooking, turning on the TV, changing channels and watching shows. So how does that reconcile? Lori taught me something interesting that I am still chewing on. She told me that there is no prohibition against work. That is a wrong interpretation. The prohibition is for creating. And the reason there is a prohibition against creating is that Shabbat is a chance to honor and recognize THE creator, God. The reason she doesn’t do these things is because they involve creating. On Shabbat, it’s all about our creator, God.
It is an interesting concept to take a day each week and use it to honor and thank God. I meditate and pray every day. I have for more than 35 years. I don’t use a prayerbook when I pray, it’s a quiet conversation with God. Over the years it has gone from asking him for things that I wanted to thanking him for the things that I have. When I meditate, it’s often in silence, just focusing on my breathing and paying attention to all the sounds around me. I get in touch with God and with the world. Sometimes I will do a guided meditation to mix it up and they are enjoyable as well. But most of the time, my meditation is about getting closer to God.
So what if I was to expand my practice of prayer and meditation to take a full day each week and focused entirely on that connection with God? I don’t know that I’d go to synagogue or follow a formal process, but what if I were to unplug, honor our creator, and not worry about making anything for a day? It’s an interesting question and one that I will ponder for a while.
I also had the opportunity to learn with Rabbi Yakov Palatnik, Lori’s husband. I have seen him on other trips, but this was the first time I really got to spend time with him, and WOW! I have been missing out. This quiet and humble man is filled with incredible wisdom. One of the things we discussed that really intrigued me was about prayer. As a scholar of Maimonides (the Rambam), he told me that the Rambam said you need three things in a prayer.
The first is to praise God and acknowledge his greatness. While I am not an overly religious person, that is something I always do. One of my favorite things to say is that God often does for me, what I can’t do for myself. I have seen that happen over and over again in my life. Things happen that I hate and that I think are awful and I would get upset about. A few days or weeks or months later, I would look back and realize it was the best thing that could have happened. I know and understand the greatness of God and it centers me and gives me great comfort.
The second is to ask for what you want or need. As I said, I used to do this but stopped. In part this was because of my understanding of the greatness of God. Who am I to ask? I don’t know what’s best for me. Isn’t it better to ask God just to take care of me and that’s enough? Rabbi Palatnik said no. He said we have to ask because we have to know ourselves. If we don’t ask it means we don’t know. Of course God knows, and we aren’t asking for him to know. We are asking to show that we know. We are asking because we have done our part and done the work. That makes sense to me but it is still going to be uncomfortable to ask for things for myself. That is because of the third thing that Rabbi Palatnik told me Maimonides required in prayer.
You have to say Thank You to God. That I do every day. I thank God for giving me another day of life. Sometimes it’s saying the Modeh Ani, but most of the time it is just saying thank you for another day. I say it at night when I go to sleep. I say it throughout the day. Part of the reason I struggle with asking God for things is because I know he will take care of me and I’d rather say thank you than ask for things that I may think I want but in hindsight I wish I didn’t get. Saying thank you to God is comforting to me.
It is an interesting process for sure. Over the next few days, weeks, and month, I am going to follow Rabbi Palatnik’s suggestion to listen to the Rambam. I’m going to work to make sure I include all three components in my prayers. We will see what happens as a result.
Lori and Rabbi Palatnik and me. Two great teachers. One average student.
The third person I got to learn from was our trip leader, Saul Blinkoff. Saul is an amazing man, and you can google him to learn more about him. During Shabbat, he said two things that really resonated with me.
The first is that what you will die for determines what you live for. It’s a fascinating concept. He shared the story of a woman in a concentration camp during the Holocaust. The woman looked like she was ready to end her life when she walked up to the Rabbi in the camp and asked for a knife. The Rabbi was shocked and worried about her. She demanded a knife again. The Rabbi didn’t have one and tried to talk to her. She looked behind him and saw a member of the SS who had a knife. She walked up to him, grabbed the knife, reached down to her leg and pulled a baby out from under her uniform. She had recently given birth and was keeping the baby a secret. She took the knife, performed a circumcision, a Brit Milah in Hebrew, entering her son into the covenant with God. She then gave the knife and the crying, newly circumcised baby to the SS officer, turned around and walked away. A minute later there was a shot and the baby stopped crying. A few seconds later and the SS officer shot the woman in the back of the head. She knew what she was willing to die for – to be Jewish and part of the Jewish people. So she knew what she was living for.
It is a powerful lesson and question. What am I willing to die for? What is so important to me that I would sacrifice my life for it? I have started my list and will be thinking about this for a long time. Once I know what I would die for, I will know what I live for and can make sure that’s what I am doing in my daily life.
The other lesson Saul taught me on Shabbat was about the mezuzah. I have had a mezuzah on my door for many, many years. I know what it is, why it is there, what is inside it, what it says, where the commandment comes from. One of my clients has a focus on the mezuzah so I’ve learned even more over the past few months. And yet, Saul taught me something new and important. He said that one reason the mezuzah is on the door is because it signals a transition. When we walk into the home from outside, we need to leave our outside problems at the door. It is a visible signal to change our focus to what is inside the house, our family, and go all in. What a really cool concept. A visible reminder of what is important. This is one that I have already started using. When I walk through a new door with a mezuzah on it, I think about where I am going to and what mindset do I need in this new space.
Saul Blinkoff teaching us. What an amazing man and teacher. Lucky and proud to call him my friend.
Learning stuff like this to challenge my behaviors and beliefs is really cool (at least to me) but that isn’t the only special part of Shabbat. As I have said, I am not the most religious person and don’t really go to shul. Ok, I don’t go to shul unless it is a family simcha (celebration). In Israel, I don’t want to miss Shabbat at the Kotel (Western Wall). It is joyous, fun, exciting, and meaningful. There are so many different types of Jews there and so many different services going on. And you never know who you are going to see. This Shabbat was no exception. As we got to the Kotel and began our service, I looked ahead and saw Rabbi Lipskier from Chabad at UCF. I quickly made my way over to him to give him a big hug and to wish him Shabbat Shalom. Only in Israel! I returned to our group and the singing and dancing began. We were a group of about 25-30 men. This is small on Friday night at the Kotel but as we sang louder and danced, we started seeing others come over and join us. IDF soldiers in uniform. Hassidic men. Men in Black hats. Men pulling out their kippah from their pocket before they joined us. Men with the big fur hat. Men who looked like they belonged at a Grateful Dead show. Even a little boy. It was amazing to see all these different types of Jews join us to sing and dance.
When it was over and it was just our group again, I started thinking about how this was an allegory for the world. If Jews of all different types can come together at the Kotel on Shabbat and not only pray together and separately but also join together in unification, why can’t we do it elsewhere. Forget about the entire world, why can’t we do this in our local communities? Why can’t we find different types of people who will be happy with their differences and yet also celebrate their similarities? What can we do to make our local communities look more like the Kotel on Shabbat? Different types of people enjoying both their differences and similarities. That’s the type of world I want to live in.
My takeaway is really something else that Rabbi Palatnik taught me during this trip. We have to be able to learn from everybody. It is a fascinating concept that everybody has something to teach us. It doesn’t matter who they are, where they come from, how much or how little they have, how well educated they are or are not, or anything else. Everybody in the world has something to teach us. I haven’t only learned from these three amazing people on this trip. I learned from the other men on the trip. I learned from some of the women on the women’s trip who spoke. I learned from the French Machal soldiers and the families from Kibbutz Alumim who have been relocated. I learned from the farmer, visiting Kfar Aza and Nova. I learned from the Chabad Rabbi who put my tefillin on at the Kotel on Wednesday. When I am open to thing, I can learn from everybody.
I know how to put on Tefillin but I can still learn from the Chabad Rabbi who did it for me at the Kotel.
What a powerful thought – to learn from everybody and every interaction. That sure makes us all better people and makes for a better world.
The events of October 7th have been widely circulated and publicized. Most people know what happened and even thought there are deniers, they are largely discredited. As sombody who sat in front of the TV all day on October 7th while sending WhatsApp messages to my Israeli friends and family to check on them, I have been more aware than most. In addition, I put together a viewing of the 47-minute Hamas video and I saw the Nova music festival documentary and heard a survivor speak afterwards. I have friends in the IDF reserves who gave me updates.
I thought I was prepared when we went to Hostage Square and heard from the fathers of two hostages earlier in the week. I wasn’t. Hostage Square was overwhelming and I want to go back and just sit there for hours with the family members to show support. Hearing the pleas of the fathers of two hostages was beyond painful. I’ve mainly processed the experience and while the hostages will be in my heart and mind until they are released, I figured out a way to cope with the experience.
Today, we went to the Gaza envelope. This was something I have looked forward to being able to do since October 7th. To volunteer with agriculture because the Kibbutzim and Moshavim are short workers. To visit Kfar Aza or Be’eri, the Kibbutzim that were brutally attacked. To be at the Nova music festival site and pay tribute to those murdered by Hamas terrorists while they were enjoying live music and their friends. It felt noble. It felt important. And it was.
The location of the farm where we worked on the lemon grove
Working on the lemon fields was rewarding. It wasn’t fun work. It wasn’t hard work. It was necessary work. We started by seeing the office area, using the bathroom, and getting a feel for where we were. We were about 2 miles from Gaza. They had a collection of rockets fired from Gaza in the front as well as some remnants from the Iron Dome rockets that shot them down. I got a chance to hold one of the Iron Dome rockets which was much lighter than I expected.
Holding an Iron Dome rocket used to shoot down a Hamas rocket
We then spent about an hour and a half cleaning the trees, cutting away excess branches that made it harder for them to properly water and nourish the trees. The lemons were big and delicious and I cut one up to squeeze into my water bottle. As we worked the fields, we found parts of rockets and Iron Dome rockets lying around. They couldn’t be bothered with cleaning up the smaller fragments from the grove.
Our guide from the kibbutz shared the challenges with having lost their workers from Thailand and all the workers that came daily from Gaza. The King of Thailand won’t allow them to come back to Israel but he was able to get some Thai workers back by having them go to Cypress and then pick them up there. They also added some workers from India but are still woefully short of labor. When we asked him if the Kibbutz lost any members on October 7th, his response was a bit surprising. “Yes, only 4”. I had to double and triple check that he understood I meant were any of them murdered by Hamas terrorists, not if they decided to leave the Kibbutz. He understood clearly as he told me they had 3 women and 1 man murdered. He said they got lucky. Some people climbed out of the window and ran to other houses, allowing the people coming from Gaza to just rob their homes. Others opened the door and told them to go away and they did. Nobody is sure why they got so lucky (as if having four people in your community murdered is lucky) but they were.
I think the most impactful think that he said to us was that they were planting because it gives them roots. They aren’t going anywhere. They aren’t leaving the land. They aren’t moving and they aren’t afraid. This is their home. It was a powerful statement and I thought to myself, “F them! I’ll move here. I’ll live here to show Hamas and others that we as Jews aren’t going anywhere!” Since my wife has already said I have the softest hands of anybody she knows, that feeling was really good for about 30 minutes and then reality set it. I’m not moving to be a farmer in the south of Israel. But it should did feel good for a while. Israel is our historic home and after 2,000 years, we aren’t giving it up and aren’t leaving.
On the way to Kfar Aza, one of the men on our bus asked if we could stop at the bus shelter near the Nova site to pay tribute to two of his friends who were murdered that day. As it turns out, one of the people was the uncle of the woman I heard speak in Orlando after the showing of the Nova documentary. Lee survived the massacre. Her story was brutal and gunwrenching. She had described the shelter she hid and and where she watched her uncle and others die. To see it in person and pay my respects both to her uncle and the others who perished but also to honor her survival, I wanted to get out and see it as well.
The exterior of the bomb shelter where Lee Sasi hid and her uncle and 11 others were murdered
I have been inside bomb shelters on prior visits to explore them. I knew what the size was like, the dark and dinginess. The feeling of being trapped even as the only one in there. For some reason I didn’t apply that when Lee told her story. As I stepped into the bunker, it all camp flowing back. I thought about 25 or more people cramped in this tiny space. I thought about being trapped with no way out as terrorists reached their guns around the corner and began firing randomly, guaranteeing to hit people based on both the small area and the concrete walls. I thought about what would happen each time a grenade was thrown into that small space by the terrorists. I thought about Lee, hiding underneath dead bodies to protect herself from the bullets and the grenades, using the dead bodies as shields from the explosions of the grenades. It became overwhelming and I quickly left.
Walking through the bomb shelter where Lee Sasi hid and 12 people, including her uncle, were murdered.
On the entrance and interior of the shelter there are plaques to commemorate the 12 who were murdered in this shelter. There were stickers to commemorate and remember each individual who was murdered here. It was a powerful thing to see. I’ll never forget Lee Sasi’s story nor will I forget seeing As we headed to Kfar Aza, I had no idea that this wasn’t even close to what I would experience.
Earlier I said I thought I was prepared for Hostage Square and wasn’t. I also thought I was prepared for our visit to Kfar Aza. I have a friend who is from Kfar Aza and I knew it was beautiful before October 7. When we pulled up, it looked like many other kibbutzim that I have been to. Beautiful trees, grass, and warm, welcoming feel.
Welcome to Kfar AzaBeautiful entrance to Kfar Aza
For those of you that don’t know, Kfar Aza is located in what is known as “The Gaza Envelope”. It is 1 mile west of Gaza and the city of Jabalyia. You can easily see Jabalyia from Kfar Aza. The people of Kfar Aza were peaceniks. They believed in peace and lived in peace. They had Gazans coming to work at the kibbutz and eat there as well. They’d sit as friends. On October 7, 2023, Hamas terrorists broke through the gate of the kibbutz, massacring the people in the kibbutz. 62 people were murdered with another 19 people taken hostage. Four of those people remain hostages today.
Jabalya in the distance. The back of the Kibbutz’s fields are only a few hundred feet from Gaza.
As I said earlier, I thought I was prepared for Kfar Aza. I thought I understood what happened there. After all, I had watched tv all day on October 7th, talked to friends of mine who live in Israel and serve in the IDF, talked with friends who live in the south, close to Gaza. I saw the 47-minute Hamas video. I watched the Nova documentary and heard a survivor speak afterwards. I talk with my friend who is a reserve commander in Gaza and one that is a reserve commander in the north. I’m very plugged in and get real information. And yet, I wasn’t close to being prepared for what I saw.
As we began to tour the area of the Kibbutz where the Hamas terrorists attacked, I was sad with what I initially saw. It was what I expected. Houses with their roof torn off.
House in Kfar Aza with the roof torn off House in Kfar Aza with their Sukkah still up 7 months later.
Then we moved deeper into the Kibbutz and our guide from the IDF started telling stories. Watch her tell the stories. They are powerful and painful. It is something I will never forget.
Outside one of the homes in Kfar Aza where the IDF soldier tells us the story of the family who was murdered by Hamas.
This was powerful. It was hard to hear. Hard to look at the house and know the story that went with it. Yet we were only beginning.
She walked a little bit, stopped at another house, and told us another story. I’m sure she has told these stories many times. It was clear to me that no matter how many times she tells the story of the people murdered in each house, it causes her great pain. My anger continued to grow. I could feel the rage growing in my body. We moved on to another home and another story.
By this time I was boiling over with rage. I began thinking about those who deny this happened. I was thinking about those who say and believe that these people deserved it. I was furious with those who say it is all Israel’s fault and Hamas was right to massacre the Jews. I began hearing bombs dropping in Jabalya and something strange happened that I didn’t really like and continue to struggle with. Instead of feeling fear, I felt relief. Each time I heard a bomb explode just a mile away from me, it made me feel better. I’m not proud to say this and I don’t want any innocent people to be harmed. Yet what Hamas and those Gazans who followed them and looted and raped did was so horrific, bombs became the salve for my soul. Part of me feels terrible for this. Part of me is glad that something soothed my soul. It’s incredibly conflicting and I don’t think I will come to any resolution for a long time. We began walking to the next home.
The next area of homes were the youth village. At Kfar Aza, when you turn 18, you move out of your parents home and into your own apartment in this part of the Kibbutz. She told us that this was filled with life. Music and dancing. Karaoke. Barbeques. Fun. It was the heart of the Kibbutz. This was the part that was hit the hardest by Hamas. As we walked down the street, we saw pictures of those murdered and kidnapped.
There were so many, I only took a few pictures. We reached an intersection and turned towards the gate that Hamas breached to enter the Kibbutz. You can see from the picture, Jabalya is just behind the Kibbutz. 1 mile away. Maybe a little less.
I went to the gate and recorded this video. As the bombs continued to fall, it made me feel good. I hate writing that and I hate admitting it. It is not the person I am nor the person I want to be. Hamas is that type of evil. As we experienced the impact of October 7 in this part of the Kibbutz, the need to eliminate Hamas was not only clear but became an imperative.
As we headed down that part of the Kibbutz, the IDF soldier asked us not to take any pictures of the houses on that street. Everybody who lived on that street was either murdered or kidnapped. Let me repeat that again. EVERYBODY WHO LIVED ON THAT STREET WAS EITHER MURDERED OR KIDNAPPED.
The bombs went off again and I hate to admit that my thought was, “They are not coming fast enough. We need more bombs in Jabalya. We need bombs in Rafah. We need them home.” I’m not proud of these thought but I want to be honest about the feelings that were occurring as I was seeing and hearing the horror of Hamas terrorists.
We headed to the final home we would learn about and visit. They had previously explained to us that the circle with the dot inside on the walls meant there was a dead Israeli inside. They explained all the other symbols as well but that was the one I looked for first. On this house, however, along with the circle with the dot inside, there was written in Hebrew that there were human remains on the couch. Watch and listen to her tell the story.
The couch no longer exists although some of the remains are outside the house. There are pictures of the couch inside. Here are pictures of not just the couch but also inside the house. Grenades were thrown in the house so what you are looking at are because of grenades, not bullets.
Picture of the couch with human remains on it. You are looking at the blood.The ceiling. These are from grenade explosionsMore damage to the ceiling from grenades. Imagine being in the room.More pictures of the horror inside this house
I was glad this was the last house. I was completely overwhelmed with anger, resentment, sadness, grief, and similar emotions. The horror documented in this house was beyond comprehension. I couldn’t speak for a bit as we walked down to the end of the road and met with one of the new leaders of the Kibbutz security team. The team is new because 7 of the 12 members were killed by Hamas and 3 were injured. Listen to his words and maybe you can understand what they faced and what it is like today not just in Kfar Aza but all of Israel.
We headed to the bus, all of us shaken by the experience. It was quiet and solemn. It was intense. We were all a little anxious as our next stop was the Nova music festival site. After what we just saw and experiened, would we be able to handle the Nova site? I really didn’t know.
We arrived at the Nova site about 20 minutes after leaving Kfar Aza. I needed the time on the bus to just have quiet and some peace. As we pulled in, it looked so peaceful and beautiful. I could imagine the festival happening and the joy of everybody in attendance. When we got off the bus, Saul Blinkoff, our amazing trip leader, showed us a picture of where we were standing from October 7, 2023. I took a picture on May 16, 2024. You can compare the two and see how much was left in haste compared to the emptiness now.
October 7, 2023 Nova Music FestivalMay 16, 2024 Nova Festival
I wandered around the site, letting everything seep into me. There was a sadness and a beauty to the site. It was also overwhelming at the sheer number of people that were memorialized at the Nova site.
The pictures of everbody who was murdered or taken hostage at the Nova music festival. Look closely as there are a lot pictures of people.
I wandered amongst the pictures and notes about each one of the victims. Looked each person’s picture in the face and said their name in my head. Remembering them as living people. Paying tribute to how they died. Praying for their safe return if they were taken hostage. It was amazing how many young lives were ended. It reminded me of Kfar Aza and how the young people were wiped out.
Walking through the Nova site
After wandering around looking at the images of those murdered or kidnapped and taken hostage, I found myself wanting to sit down in front of some of them and really look at the person. Spend some time with them, as if I was sitting at their grave. Treat it like I was going to the shiva house (house of mourning for the 7 days after burial). So I did. It was beautifully peaceful. It felt right. Investing time in remembering these beautiful, innocent people who were murdered by Hamas because of hate. As I sat for 5-10 minutes in front of various memorials, I found some peace. Kfar Aza was hard. Nova seemed different. Perhaps it was the lack of obvious violence at the site. Maybe it was the beautiful tribute to the souls lost or kidnapped on October 7. At both Hostage Square and Nova, I felt the same peace in my soul. Awful atrocities happened at Nova and Hostage Square is a remembrance of the kidnapping and murder of innocent people. Yet both seemed to have a soul calming effect for me.
In front of the Nova tribute. It’s beautiful and peaceful and sad.
While at Nova, we had the privilege of hearing directly from Rami Davidian, a true hero of October 7 and the Nova music festival. You will want to read about him here as I can’t do justice to his story, but I will tell you a bit of it and the impact and takeaways for me.
Rami is a farmer who lives in the Gaza envelope. At 6:45 am on October 7, he received a phone call from a friend, asking him to rescue his daughter, who was near a farm in the area. She had been at the Nova festival and managed to escape and was hiding from the terrorists. Rami not only saved her, he found others on the way to save her and got others to come pick them up. Since he was out saving people, his number was shared to those who had children at Nova and his WhatsApp was filled with requests to save people. He showed us the number of messages he received. It was unbelievable as scrolled and scrolled and scrolled.
The story he told us that made us all gasp was when he went to rescue a girl named Amit. He was able to figure out where she was and as he came up to rescue her, he saw that she was surrounded by 6 Hamas terrorists. Thinking quickly, he spoke to them in Arabic (he is fluent) and introduced himself as Abu Rami, a muslim. He told them that the IDF was closing in on them and they needed to run now to stay alive. As they began to move, he told them he would take the girl to his car and come around to pick them up. It would save them time and keep them safe. They believed him, gave him Amit, and ran. He took Amit back to the car and drove away.
Unfortunately, Rami also found many people who were murdered. He took them all to one spot where he laid them together. For each person he found dead, he would also say the Shema before he left them, saying the prayer for them in case they weren’t able to. There were people who reached out to him to save their children and Rami knew they were already dead. He didn’t feel it was his place to tell them this news so he would either lie that he couldn’t find them or ask them to pray to God for safety. Even during this crazy and horrific time, he thought with compassion.
Rami is a true hero. A regular man who took action when needed and saved 750 people. To put that into context, Oskar Schindler, famous for saving Jews in the Holocaust and highlighted in the Steven Spielberg movie, Schindler’s List, saved 1200 people. Rami is a role model. A hero. A regular man who did great things. He should inspire us all to do what we can to make the world a better place. There are generations that will exist because of Rami.
Standing with Rami, a true hero, at the Nova site. He rescuted 750 people that day.
We finished our time at Nova in an incredibly beautiful way. We had Anders, a musician, with us all day and at Nova, he gathered us together in a circle to play guitar and sing. Since we were at the site of a musical festival that was attacked by terrorists who committed horrific murders, rapes, and kidnappings, I couldn’t think of anything better as a tribute to those at the festival than to play music and sing. As he played the song and we joined in, our singing attracted others. A number of boys from Miami who were visiting the site joined us as we put our arms around each other, rocked back and forth, and sang loudly. It’s something I will never forget. While the impact of Kfar Aza remains and I have much more processing to do, the time at Nova was incredibly healing. It is a place I want to return to regularly, not just to pay tribute to those who lost their lives, were kidnapped, or who escaped, but also to heal my soul.
Anders leading us in song at the Nova site. It felt right to be singing and brining music to this site.
This was a heavy and hard day. Our trip leader told us that what we were doing was similar to visiting Auschwitz not long after it was liberated. I don’t like comparisons to the Holocaust as nothing does compare to it. 6 million Jews and 11 million people are not the same as the 1,200 people murdered and 250+ kidnapped on October 7. The thought behind it, however, was the same. True genocide. Not the made up word used by those who hate Israel and the Jews. Full intent to kill every Jew and Israeli they found. The goal was to eliminate the Jews. I think back to the joy in the voice of the Hamas terrorist telling his parents that he killed 10 Jews with his own hands. His celebration. He dad congratulating him. His mother being excited and elated that he killed 10 Jews.
It bothers and frustrates me that people think Hamas is the victiim. That those who support Hamas and their evil are the ones deserving of praise. When it’s a Jewish person, I shake my head, as they clearly don’t understand that these people want them dead. The media does a terrible job reporting on Israel, with tremendous bias and often times outright lies. After having been to both Kfar Aza and Nova, it is even clearer what a terrible job they have done. The horrors at Kfar Aza will remain with me. The feeling of standing on the grounds of the Nova festival will remain with me for life. Looking at the skyline of Jabalya, less than a mile away, will stay with me. Note that I said skyline – there are buildings, and plenty of them, in Jabalya.
This has been a pilgrimage for me in many ways. I needed to be in Israel for my own connection. I needed to be immersed in the culture and with the people. I needed to be here for Yom HaZikaron and share the sadness with my Israeli brothers and sisters. I needed to visit Kfar Aza to see and experience the horrors that happened there. I needed to put my feet on the ground at the Nova site, to walk around and pay my respects to those who were murdered and those who were kidnapped. I needed to sing while at Nova to honor the festival and heal my soul.
As somebody who has been to Israel 21 times now, I know not the believe the media reports. Too many others don’t. It isn’t the same Israel that I visited the first 20 times. There are questions about the hostages. Questions about Hezbollah and the north. Uncertainty about American policy. PTSD from October 7 and everything that has happened since. The hostages need to be returned. Hamas and the war in Gaza needs to be finished. Hezbollah and the north need to be stabilized. There are many existential issues facing Israel and Israelis. I’m glad to be here now and make my contribution, however small it may be.
At the end of the day, we can all do something. If you can come to Israel, please do. If you can’t, do what you can. Speak up. Speak loudly. Don’t hide. Learn the facts to address the lies. What we each choose to do now will not just shape the Jewish future, it will determine the Jewish future.
Today we went to Hostage Square and heard from the fathers of two hostages and the aunt of another. The videos say more than I can ever say. Watch, listen, and feel.
The replica Hamas Terror Tunnel at Hostage Square. It was tough to walk through. I can’t imagine being forced to live there for over 200 days already.
The father of one of the hostages
The father of another hostage
The aunt of Hersch Goldberg-Polin spoke to us
I hope you watch all the videos. They are incredibly powerful and moving. My heart broke listening to the fathers speak. Yours will too
Yom Ha’atzmaut continued today in such a subdued manner it was shocking. It was easy to forget that it was still Independence Day as so much was different than previous years. I am used to the beach being packed, barbecues happening, an undercurrent of joy, the planes flying over the beach in formation, and so much more. Last night, the port was empty as we went for dinner. In a normal year, it would have been packed with people, music, fireworks, and celebration. This year is different.
My friend, Dr. Debi Gilboa (also known as Dr. G) spoke to use this morning about courage and resilience. Debi is a wonderful person, doctor, friend, and speaker and today was no different. There were three things she talked about that really resonated for me.
Dr G, my friend Debi Gilboa, and me.
The first was about how in 1908, sixty-six (66) families left Jaffa and moved to Tel Aviv to create something. There was nothing there. I have seen the pictures at Independence Hall in Tel Aviv or what it looked line then. Huge sand dunes. That’s it. These pioneers and their families took and incredible risk moving to the middle of nowhere, on a sandy beach, with no drinking water, no housing in place, and no farming for food that was growing. Why would they do this? What could be their rationale?
The pioneers that created Tel Aviv in 1908. They had courage.
By moving to Tel Aviv, they had a chance at self-determination. They had a change to take control of their own destiny. They could build a city where they were in charge and could live the way they wanted to live, as Jews. I’m sure every one of them was scared and felt unsure at times. Yet they did it anywhere. The fear of where they were coming from along with the opportunity that presented itself was enough to help them fight through their fear to build the city of Tel Aviv.
The second was about courage. Courage is not feeling fear or being afraid. Courage is feeling fear and being afraid and getting through it anyway. The 66 families that started Tel Aviv in 1908 felt plenty of fear, yet they would not let that fear stop them from following through and building the city of Tel Aviv. We heard from and met people from Kibbutz Alumim today. The Kibbutz is 3 km from Gaza and was attacked on October 7. It is the only kibbutz that was attacked on October 7th, the terrorists got into the kibbutz, but did not get into the houses. Those on the kibbutz who hid in their safe rooms with their families and those who defended it were scared but they fought through the fear to survive. Courage looks different but always involves facing your fears and finding a way through them.
The third topic that resonated strongly with me was when she talked about how God told Abraham and Sarah, “Lech Lecha”. Translated this means ‘Go to yourself.” This is when they left where they were living, left Abraham’s father’s house, and followed God’s directions. Debi shared with us that it also means for each of us to be true to ourselves. That we must take care of ourselves. After October 7, Israelis are doing what they have to do to take care of themselves. It’s emotionally difficult and requires courage to do this. In the diaspora, we are struggling with this. How do we take care of ourselves in a world filled with rising antisemitism? How do we take care of ourselves when we see the hate on college campuses? How do we take care of ourselves when we see physical violence occurring just because somebody is Jewish? When Jewish speakers and events are cancelled because the venue ‘can’t ensure security’? During the day today, this became a topic of many conversations I had. The consensus seemed to be that we need to invest more in what being Jewish means to us. Each of us individually has the opportunity to ask that question of ourselves and our families. What does being Jewish mean to me? How do I express being Jewish in a meaningful way to me? Are there things I might want to do or that I like to do that I am not? If so, what are they. If not, maybe I want to explore what they could be. I have found myself doing this over the past few years and coming up with my own answers for me. I have found that I enjoy learning more about what being Jewish entails by spending time each week talking and learning some Torah with a Rabbi and how it applies to my life today. Can the lesson change my behavior and how I feel about things? Each week I learn a little bit more. I am not more religious. But I do feel more Jewish.
Debi’s talk, similar to when I am learning lessons from the Torah with my Rabbi, made me think a little deeper about issues. I have more to chew on and more questions to ask myself. Being on this trip, I have brothers to talk with and delve deeper together. That’s also part of being Jewish – having a community to be a part of so life is not lived alone.
We spent time at the Peres Center for Innovation and Peace. I’ve been there before and it is an amazing place, created by Shimon Peres, with an intentional incredible view of the Mediterranean Sea to inspire peacefulness. The main floor is an exhibition space and when I walked in, I was struck by the exhibit from October 7th that was there. It was truly unbelievable. There was a huge screen with a video documenting the events. There was a photo exhibit that was captivating. I videoed part of the video screen and noticed that the reflection of our group watching it was also seen in the recording. I thought that was appropriate as we are all a part of October 7 just like it is a part of us.
The video presentation at the Peres Center for Peace
I came out of the Peres Center with three takeaways this time. First, Israel has always been about peace. The Declaration of Independence explicitly offers peace and a welcome to the Arabs to join the new country. It was the Arabs that rejected that peace and went to war. Since 1948, Israel has offered peace many times and until the Abraham Accords only found peace partners with Egypt and Jordan. Neither is a warm peace, but both have held. Despite the media wanting to say that Israel is the problem, the colonizer, the oppressor, Israel’s actions since 1948 have shown them to be a willing partner for peace with whoever wants to engage with them about peace. When the war with Hamas in Gaza ends, and it will end, it is highly likely that the peace and normalization with both Saudi Arabia and Indonesia will be finalized. More and more Arab nations are coming to realize that they are better off being peaceful and partners with Israel than trying to eliminate them. That is both the narrative we need to be using and the future for the region.
Secondly, there was moment in the video about Shimon Peres where he says that he didn’t feel like he was really the Prime Minister until he “sat in the Old Man’s chair”. The Old Man is David Ben Gurion and it made me think about leadership. Israel has had some incredible leaders. Ben Gurion, Shimon Peres, Moshe Dayan, Yitzhak Rabin, Menachem Begin, Golda Meir, Ariel Sharon, Chaim Weizmann, Ze’ev Jabotinsky, Yigal Allon, Abba Eban, Levi Eshkol, Yitzhak Shamir, Yigael Yadin, and Ezer Weizman are like Israel’s version of our American Founding Fathers, only I remember almost of all them in my lifetime. Israel is a young country and with the loss of these key leaders, the question remains who is going to step up. There is no question that the current situation both in Israel and in the world is a result of leadership challenges. I found myself wondering who would be the next wave of leaders that will step up, both in Israel and the United States, to take us to the next level. Israel turned 76 this week. When the US was 76, it was 1852. We were 8 years away from Abraham Lincoln and his leadership. The US was about to enter a civil war. It was leadership that got us through those challenging times. Who will be both Israel and the United State’s Abraham Lincoln for this time period? Without that leadership, I fear for the future of the world.
The third takeaway was when Peres was summing up his own life near the end. He said, “I didn’t dream big enough” and he urged everybody to dream bigger. In today’s world, I think we need to listen to him and dream bigger. We need to think beyond what is possible and think what would be ideal. Then we work towards accomplishing the ideal. We may not reach ideal, but we will be far better off than if we just try to accomplish what is possible. It reminds me of the saying, “Shoot for the moon, and even if you miss, you will be among the stars.”
One of the highlights of the day was our visit to The Squadron, a flight simulator created by a high-ranking commander in the Israeli air force. The commander gave us a very high level briefing which was incredible. The pattern of three take-aways continued from his talk.
The Squadron let us wear flight uniforms and do the simulator. I always wanted to be Top Gun
When talking about October 7, he said that the country was already in a weakened position because of the civil unrest that was going on before then. The protests of the government policies and attempts to change key laws, the status of the Prime Minister and his legal issues, and the split in the country. It sounded far too familiar to what we are dealing with in the United States. He said to us, “When the body is weakened, the germs can get in and attack”. This is what happened on October 7. This is what we are seeing set up in the United States today. I found myself asking myself how far away are we in the US from our own version of October 7? Would it come from the far right? From the far left? From a terror attack funded by Iran? Are we getting ready for another 9/11 but on a much larger scale? Will we learn from Israel or continue to stick our heads in the sand?
He also said that he believes there will be no peace for at least 100 years because we have lost the youth. It made me think of the exodus from Egypt and how we had to wander for 40 years for the generations of slaves to die so that a new generation that didn’t know slavery could rise. Do we need to wait until the generations who have grown up with hate die off so we can have a new generation that doesn’t know hate rise? I hope we don’t need to wait 100 years or more. I hope we can make changes in our world now that shorter that time. The one thing that I do believe is that the instant gratification expectations of the US and Europe are not realistic and that this will take time. Can we shorten the 100 years to a decade? 2 decades? I don’t know but perhaps it is time that we change our expectations and begin the hard work to get there instead of hoping and praying that it will happen in 2024 or 2025.
The final takeaway was when he said that the only thing that will get us out of this is leadership. I agree with that 100%. As I wrote above and have written before, we have a serious lack of leadership in the world and in our Jewish communities. It is time to invest in leadership. We need to make hard choices and difficult decisions. We need to change the paradigm that we currently live in where leaders are determined by money. Our leaders need to lead, unafraid of the personal consequences because they are doing what is needed for the community, the nation, and the world. We need the courage Debi talked about. We need to dream bigger like Shimon Peres said. We need to allow the great leaders to rise and truly lead.
We then got to try their fight simulator. These were F-16 simulations and it was truly amazing. It gave me great admiration for the air force pilots and made me want to practice more and more.
Keith taking off in the flight simulator
Our final stop for the day was to meet with the people from Kibbutz Alumim. They have been relocated from their kibbutz near Gaza to a hotel in Netanya since October 7. We heard from two people at the kibbutz. Sarit, a young mother, hid in her safe room for 26 hours with her husband and 2-year-old daughter. Sarit’s husband was able to grab a little schnitzel for their daughter and one diaper for her before they entered their safe room for 26 hours. That’s not much in terms of food and one spare diaper for 26 hours isn’t nearly enough. Her descriptions were intense and thankfully the terrorists didn’t get into any of the houses on this kibbutz.
Sarit talking to us
The reason they didn’t get into any of the houses on this kibbutz was because of people like Eyal, the second speaker. This kibbutz had 15 members of their defense force that were trained and had access to guns in their armory to protect the kibbutz. Facing 150 or more terrorists invading the kibbutz, these 15 people fought them off. They ended up getting help from the IDF with a helicopter coming and helping shoot at the terrorists, killing many and driving them away after a full day of battle. Eyal ended up getting shot 4 times. Once on the side of his face, once in his back, once in his side, and once through his lung and out his scapula. He was rushed to the hospital where he was able to recover. The story of bravery on this kibbutz was not remarkable compared to the stories I have heard on other kibbutzim. What I took from it was the importance of being prepared and trained. Nobody wants to think that we have to be prepared to protect ourselves, but the reality is that we do. We can hope that we never have to use the training and that the practice is just that, but we need to be prepared. Whether it is in Israel or in the United States, a failure to prepare is preparing to fail. We no longer can afford that luxury.
Eyal talking to us
Outside the hotel, near the school they had created for their children, we had a huge barbecue and got to celebrate life with the members of the kibbutz. There was nothing like seeing the children fully engaged in life. Just as my grandparents used to say that looking at us, their grandchildren, was the proof that Hitler had lost, watching these children play and live life was proof that Hamas failed. Those who hate us failed. We survived once again and we will thrive again. Some of the little kids gave us gifts of vegetables from the kibbutz and seeing them warmed my heart. Then a few of the young boys came over to dance with us and that was the highlight of the day. It warmed my heart. We danced. We sang. We smiled. We laughed. We lived. I made sure to get a picture with them to remind myself that no matter what, we choose to live. And we choose to live freely as Jews. Authentic to ourselves.
The boys from the Kibbutz who came to dance with us
Dancing with the kids from the Kibbutz – it made the entire day.
Kids from the Kibbutz giving us gifts of vegetables from their Kibbutz. They were so adorable.
How can you not smile watching this toddler on his tricycle. 7 months ago he was hiding in a safe room as his parents hoped they wouldn’t be butchered by Hamas terrorists
I knew when I got on the plane to come this time that part of why I was coming was because October 7 and what has followed has ripped a hole in my soul. Watching the children, dancing with them and seeing them choosing life has begun to repair that hole. We need to listen to Dr. G and be courageous. We need to hear Shimon Peres and dream bigger. We need to pay attention to the lessons from the air force commander and demand real leadership and invest in leadership development. And most of all, we need to live authentically and with joy. Life is too short and too important to waste.
Kids at the barbecue back to life after the terror of October 7th. We must live life to the fullest.
There is something special about being in Israel. For those of you who have been here, you know. For those of you who have not been here yet, I can’t explain it. It’s the air, the sounds, the smells, the energy that exists. Even in the middle of a war, I feel peaceful.
I got my frozen Aroma (the best coffee drink ever) and went to get a taxi to my hotel. My driver was former military (like most people in Israel). As we discussed the war, he shared that when he was on active duty and reserves, his unit was like the one in the TV show Fauda. If you haven’t seen the show, it is a must, especially with what is going on now with the Hamas-Israel war. It might provide some insight into the challenges that exist to finding peace. He showed me a picture of him undercover. It was incredible to see. As we pulled up to the hotel and got out of the car, the 8 pm siren went off. I have been here for Yom HaZikaron two other times and know what the siren is like, however this year was different for me. As I stood outside my taxi with everybody else around, standing proud, silent, and thinking about all those who have lost their lives in defense of the Jewish people and Israel, I got emotional, and tears came to my eyes. The minute was over far too quickly, and it made me long for the two-minute siren today and to be in a large group like I will today. There is something about being a Jew and being the majority especially during significant times like this that is indescribable until you experience it. It is something that you can’t comprehend and can’t even imagine until you experience.
I went for my walk on the beach, sat there enjoying the sound of the Mediterranean Sea, the fresh Israeli air, and the sand between my toes. My friend Matthew finally arrived after spending 30+ hours traveling after United cancelled his flight a few days ago and we hung out before crashing for the night.
Monday was the full day of Yom HaZikaron. It also meant Israeli breakfast. For those of you that have never been here or had Israeli breakfast, it is simply the best meal of the day. The options are endless, the fruit and vegetables fresher than anywhere at home other than your own garden, the dairy product incredible, and the best way to start the day. The hotel had one of the best breakfasts I have had and I sat with friends eating and drinking coffee (lattes and cappuccinos not Nescafe like my first trip in 1989!)
We left the hotel for the ceremony with the Machal soldiers. I didn’t know we were going to be with Machal soldiers, and this was very meaningful to me. When I was running UF Hillel, I learned about Machal and Aliyah Bet from Ralph Lowenstein z’l, who in 1948 was the second youngest North American to volunteer to fight in the war of independence. Those who volunteered from other countries were part of Machal. The museum for Machal and Aliyah Bet was included when we constructed Norman H. Lipoff Hall, the home of the Hillel the University of Florida. Ralph would regale me with stories of his time on the boat traveling to Cypress to immigrate to Israel, his time driving a halftrack in the war, and the conditions they had to fight in. When we dedicated the museum in 2005, most of the living members of Machal from 1948 came. They kept thanking me for my part in the museum happening. I told them that all I did was say yes to a great idea and that they were the true heroes. It was one of the most humbling moments of my life as these true heroes, who risked everything including being arrested and losing citizenship to fight for Israel and the Jewish people.
I had been asked to bring some things with me to give to individual soldiers that I met during the trip and was able to hand them out before the ceremony. I shared this opportunity with some friends on the trip so they could share in the joy of doing something nice for the soldiers. As I spent time talking to them, most of them from France, I was struck by a few things.
How young they are. These were babies. They were younger than my own children.
They shared how bad it is in France for Jews. I knew it was bad from reading the news, but they shared much more.
How happy they were to be in Israel, serving in the IDF, protecting Israel and the Jewish people. In the middle of a war where they could lose their lives at any moment, they were happy to be able to serve.
Two French IDF soldiers in the Machal unitA French IDF soldier serving in the Machal unit
They thanked me for coming from the depths of their soul. I have had this happen in Israel two other times. The first was during the second intifada when Jews weren’t coming to Israel. The only ones coming were Christians. When a Jewish group came, they thanked us profusely because they hadn’t seen American Jews coming to Israel in a long time. It made me sad then and makes me sad now. The other time was when I came in 2021 just before Israel was reopened due to Covid. Tour groups hadn’t been allowed to come until ours and the looks we got wearing our badges were incredible. People came up to talk to us, ask questions, and thank us for coming. We brought a sense of relief and support once again that had been missing. It reminds me of our obligation as diaspora Jews to come to Israel, to support of brothers and sisters all the time. How much they need us even though they appear to be tough and can take care of themselves. They need to see us, to hug us, to talk with us, and to laugh and cry with us.
During the ceremony, which was very moving, there were a few things that stuck out to me. First, as Jews we always live with hope. We always have. We always will. Hope for the future. Next year in Jerusalem at every Seder for generations. My Ethiopian Israeli friends often talk about their hope when living in Ethiopia to one day return to Jerusalem.
An originial Machalnick from 1948 speaking at the ceremony. May he live to 120.
Secondly, the impact of North American Jews in the creation of the State of Israel in 1948. Ralph would always share the role we played with the air force in 1948, with getting the planes, weapons, and equipment needed to fight the war. It was illegal for Americans to help provide Israel with any of this at that time, yet so many brave people did. My friend Ann Bussell would tell me stories about her father, Shepard Broad, and how he provided the funding to retrofit the ships in the Miami river. She loved telling me stories about how as a little girl she would play on the deck of the ship, Exodus, in the Miami River. How American Jews took incredible risks to give Israel a chance to survive. If they could risk everything on a state fighting with an army that was overwhelmed in numbers and equipment, what are we prepared to risk today for the incredible State of Israel. It made me think deeply.
As the ceremony ended and we gathered for lunch, our trip leader, Saul Blinkoff, shared some wisdom with us. I took three things to heart.
One, “if you don’t stand up, you can’t survive.” It sounds so simple, yet it is very true. We are not the Jews of the 1930s and 1940s who went to the gas chambers. We are not the Jews who stood by during the pogroms in eastern Europe. We are not the Jews who converted during the Spanish Inquisition to avoid prison, deportation, or death. We stand up today. We fight back today. After Hamas violently invaded Israel and murdered 1200 people on October 7th, we didn’t sit back and apologize for existing. Those days are no longer. As Jews we are proud of who we are and will fight for our survival. NO MATTER WHAT. We have Israel to thank for that.
Two, one of the reminders of the horrors of October 7th was that the Sukkahs were still standing for a long time afterwards. The attack came on the Jewish holiday of Simchat Torah, the end of the holiday of Sukkot. There wasn’t time to take the sukkahs down as people were reporting for reserve duty immediately. Many had been murdered in the Gaza envelope so there was nobody to take those sukkahs down. The sukkah, a reminder of the temporary nature of life, designed as temporary structures, stayed up for weeks after they should have been taken down. Temporary had become more permanent. But they were temporary and came down. Just like the horrors we are dealing with right now are temporary and will end. The IDF will succeed. Israel will be kept safe. We won’t be in Gaza forever, just longer than anybody would have hoped to ensure Israel and the Jewish people are safe.
Third, time is the one thing we can’t get more of. We never know how much we have, and we can’t make more. Yet on Yom HaZikaron, time stops. This was my third time being in Israel for Yom HaZikaron and time does stop. Things are much slower. It’s a day of thoughtfulness, of mourning, of reflection. The contrast between Memorial Day in America is profound. There are no sales. There are no barbecues. Stores and restaurants are closed. The siren goes off for a minute at 8 pm as the holiday begins and then for 2 minutes at 11 am the next morning. The nation stops and stands at attention.
When we got back to the hotel after the ceremony, we had some free time, which was greatly needed. My friends Matthew, Michael and I went to the beach to sit, talk, relax, connect, and then go for a swim in the Mediterranean Sea. The water felt incredible, the wind making us a little cold, but it was refreshing. In some ways it was like a dip in the mikvah (ritual bath) that refreshes and renews you. We headed back to the hotel for some time in the steam room to relax before getting ready for our final speaker and then dinner.
Our final speaker of the night was my friend Yaron. He was a commander in the IDF in Gaza for the first 4 months. He responded on October 7th. He had an incredible military career and I have written about him many times. He is a true hero and a real badass. He is also one of the nicest and humblest people you will every meet. He and I gave each other big hugs and caught up a little before his presentation. Brothers. Friends. Judaism is so much more than a shared religion; it is a shared family. Yaron is like a brother to me and I worry about him during this war.
Hanging with my brother Yaron
As he talked about October 7th, ‘a day of hell’ as he described it, the day came to life for me in a way it never had before. His commander ended up at the Nova festival by accident, fighting terrorists and trying to save lives. Yaron had to defend his military base which was under attack. He had to defend another military base that was under attack. He had to fight his way to get from one place to another as terrorists were controlling the area. The frustration in his voice as he talked about all the phone calls he was getting from people who needed the IDF to save them was palpable. For some reason, his cell number was given out to people, and he was getting calls from all over, trying to figure out logistics and how to attempt to save people from the terrorists that were committed to murdering, raping, and kidnapping Israeli civilians. When Yaron decided that he was going to go back to the main base to better help defend Israel, he was questioned about the risk to his own life in trying to get there. He responded that he had to do it to save lives. As he went to go alone, one of his friends who served under his command jumped in the jeep with him. When Yaron told him to get out and not risk his life, his friend told him that he was in the reserves, so Yaron wasn’t really his boss, and he was going. Two young female soldiers in their early 20s jumped in the back. Yaron ordered them out and they gave the same answer his friend did. That’s Israel. Saving lives was most important, even at the risk of their own lives. When they got back to the base, they began searching for people to save. I’ll never forget Yaron telling us that ‘there was nobody to save’.
One of the things that tied together the sadness of October 7th and the way the Jewish people focus on the future and on hope was a picture and story Yaron told us. He has 7 children and not too long ago his 6th child had his Bar Mitzvah. They held his Bar Mitzvah at Kibbutz Be’eri, one of the places that was devastated by Hamas terrorists on October 7th. Despite the death. Despite the sadness. Despite the loss. The Jewish people will live on. We will celebrate joy. We will not just survive, we will thrive.
Yaron with his son at the Bar Mitzvah at Kibbutz Be’eri
Yaron had to leave after the presentation because he had to back to Gaza. He said it to me the way I would have said, “I have to go back to the office” or “I have to go to the grocery store.” That struck me as well. He was going back into harm’s way as if it was no different than going to the store. He understands what is at stake is the future of the Jewish people. I’m hoping to see Yaron again today or tomorrow before he has to fly to the US but neither of us in charge of that. It depends on what is needed in Gaza. What a strange sentence to type and thought to have.
The group of us went out to dinner at a great meat restaurant. They fed us like at a Brazilian steakhouse and we ate and talked. The sun set over the port of Tel Aviv and we shifted from Yom HaZikaron to Yom Ha’atzmaut (Israel’s Independence Day). Normally this is an incredible transition with sadness erupting into incredible joy. I’m still processing how different it was last night and will write about that in my next blog post. It’s too much right now, especially with the entire day of Yom Ha’atzmaut ahead. As Saul was talking to us about the transition, he talked about pain and suffering and the difference between them. He told us a story about a woman giving birth and her husband was there with her. As she was in excruciating pain, he began making faces of pain. She stopped, mid push, and asked why he was making faces when she was in pain. He told her he didn’t like to see her suffering. She took a deep breath, paused again between pushing, and told him she was in pain, not suffering. Saul, and the story, reminded us that suffering leads to nothing. Pain leads to growth. As we deal with the pain of October 7th, the pain of the war in Gaza, the pain of the loss of life, we can also grow. Suffering is useless. It leads to nothing.
Today was filled lots of pain but no suffering. I’m so glad to be here in Israel, my homeland, with my brothers and sisters. I can feel the healing beginning.
The journey begins. My son took me to the Orlando Brightline station so I could take the train to Ft. Lauderdale so I can board me El Al flight to Israel. My bags are heavy, filled not just with my clothes but also with things to give away to my friends serving in the IDF and their fellow soldiers. I usually bring some things to give away but this time it feels like a holy mission as they mean more than the usual knickknacks.
When I go to Israel I tend to write a lot, often daily. So, I hope you bear with me as I chronicle this trip. It already feels different. My family really doesn’t want me to go but they could only delay this trip for so long. Israel is in my entire being. It isn’t just my heart and soul but it is core to my identity. This is my 21st trip but is very different than any before. I came during the start of the first intifada and again during the second intifada when few Jews were traveling to Israel. It broke my heart every time somebody thanked me for being Jewish and coming to Israel because all they had seen were Christians on a pilgrimage. I was here when Jordanians were massing on the border and we could hear gunfire from our hotel room on their side of the border, not knowing they were going to breach the border. I came during Covid, before the country even was open. We got special permission and were limited to one of three flights. We had to have been vaccinated and boosted, get a Covid test before we left, two when we arrived plus a blood test. We were forced to quarantine for a day until the results came back.
As you can tell, I’ve been here under a variety of circumstances. Yet none is like this. It is not because it is an active war zone. It is not because there are still three active fronts (Hamas in Gaza, Hezbollah in the north, and the Houthis). It is not because this is a solidarity mission, as I have been to Israel for that in the past. This trip is about healing the rip in my soul that happened on October 7, 2023. Similar to the Harry Potter story when Voldemort ripped his soul into many parts, mine was torn and damaged as I watched the horrifying events unfold on television. The frantic texting and WhatsApp messages to my friends and family throughout Israel to check on how they were doing. I remember one telling me about those dead at one of the kibbutzim near the Gaza border and I thought she was telling me about the Moshav that she and her husband lived on. For more than an hour, I thought they were under attack and the terrorists were near their house until she corrected me. My friends who were in the IDF reserves who didn’t respond to me because they were responding to the attack. Were they alive? My friends who had children in the IDF. Were they alive? Who did I know that might have gone to the Nova music festival? While the initial reports were bad, they were nowhere close to as horrifying as what really happened there.
I lived near Three Mile Island when it almost melted down. We evacuated, not knowing when or if we could go home. On 9/11 I had a campus of Jewish students at University of Florida who were scared and unsure what was happening. I had to let people go during the financial crash of 2008 for no fault of their own. I had to lay off 136 employees when Covid shut down The Roth Family JCC in 2020. I’ve dealt with crises before. Nothing prepared me for the internal impact of October 7th. This trip is entirely about that. It is a healing journey for me.
When I arrive, Yom HaZikaron, Israel’s Memorial Day will begin. This is the third time I will be there for it and both were incredibly impactful. This one will be very different. The next day is Yom Ha’atzmaut, Israel’s Independence Day. I have also celebrated two of these in Israel. It’s usually a joyous day, filled with celebrations, parties, fireworks, barbecues, and a parade of boats and planes on the beach in Tel Aviv. It’s one of my favorite days of the year when I can be in Israel for it. This year will be very different. We will go to the south, to a Kibbutz that was attacked on October 7th. Visit the Nova music festival site. Go back to Sderot, a place I have been many times but looks nothing like it did prior to October 7th. I will spend a few days with two friends who are IDF reserve officers. One spent the first four months in a high-ranking role in Gaza, the other spent the same time in a high-ranking role in the north. My visit to the Kotel (Western Wall of the Temple) will be unlike any before. We will volunteer on a farm, picking fruit and vegetables. That is one of the things people have either forgotten or don’t know. The people who worked in the fields were largely either Thai or Palestinian. Since October 7, the King of Thailand won’t allow any workers to come to Israel and Israel has not been able to allow the Palestinians to come to work in the fields for security reasons. Volunteers have been ensuring produce is harvested and food is available. Imagine taking a day off from your work to go into the fields and pick produce that will help feed the entire country. Not once. Not twice. It is now seven months.
One thing will be the same. When I walk out of the airport, that first breath of air will be sweet. The sound of Hebrew spoken everywhere will warm my heart. When I get to Tel Aviv tonight, I will go for a walk on the beach, feel the sand in my toes and see and smell the Mediterranean Sea. I will dip my feet in the water and realize that I am home. In a few days when we pull into Jerusalem, the city of Gold, I will see the breathtaking view as we drive in and be captivated. When I go into the old city of Jerusalem, I will be overwhelmed with a closeness to God that I will work to keep with me when I am not there.
The view of the beach and the Mediterranean Sea from my hotel balcony
I’ll miss going to the north, where it is not safe due to the Hezbollah rockets that land daily. I’ll miss going to Tzfat, one of my favorite cities for its mysticism and beauty, because it is too close to the north. I’ll miss being on the top of Masada and at the Dead Sea because that’s not what this trip is about. I’ll miss the opportunity to go to Hebron and visit the tomb of the Patriarchs and Matriarchs due to security issues. Those are all things I can do on a future trip. There will be future trips. Israel will win this war and survive. That is what the media doesn’t communicate. Israel is fighting for her survival. And as Golda Meir said, our secret weapon is that we have no place else to go.
For many obvious reasons, I have been thinking a lot about the world we live in today and the attitudes people have today. It is truly a fascinating time to be alive in so many ways, not all of them good.
I am part of Gen X. I think this has a huge impact on the way I view the world. I know it has a huge impact on how I both raised my children and how I see what is happening on college campuses, in the school systems, and in our country. My generation grew up with freedoms that future generations didn’t have. We were latchkey kids. Most of our parents worked so after school we were free to do what we wanted.
We didn’t have computers or screens. There was no internet or cell phones. We played outside until the streetlights came on. Often times our parents had no idea where we were after school and that didn’t bother them. We were independent. We’d ride our bikes miles to get to other friends’ neighborhoods. Our friends were our friends because of who they were. Race, religion, sexuality didn’t matter. My public school was closed for Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur because 1/3 of the students and teachers were Jewish. We were also closed the first day of deer hunting season because 1/3 of the students and teachers would be out hunting. We were an eclectic group of people tied together. I grew up with friends that came from family’s that had lots of money, those who were middle class, and those who didn’t have much money. It didn’t matter. Many of us are still in touch today. We had real friendships that stand the test of time.
I remember when two of my childhood friends finally came out. I, like the rest of our friends, were happy for them that they felt comfortable coming out. We also knew they were gay when we were in elementary school, so it wasn’t a big deal and changed nothing as far as we were concerned. We paid attention to who people were, not identity politics.
As I look at the world today, I wonder how we lost that specialness from my childhood. We are more divided than any time since the civil war. We no longer focus on the quality of the individual but on what sets them apart from us. We no longer care about who people are but rather how they identify. When I was running nonprofits, my goal was always to hire the best person for the job. It didn’t matter to me if it was a man or a woman, what their race or their religion was. I didn’t care about their sexuality. I wanted the best person for the job. Today’s world seems to have more and more focus on the identity of the person as we focus on how we are different instead of how we are similar.
My older son is home for a bit and he took me to the Brightline station (high speed rail between Orlando and South Florida) so I can get my flight to Israel later tonight. As we were talking, he told me about how many of his ‘friends’ he has had to block on social media because of how they were minimizing what Hamas did on October 7th and the need for Israel to eliminate Hamas to ensure the safety of Israelis and to free to people of Gaza. It saddened me to hear this. I don’t know how all my childhood friends feel about the conflict. What I do know is that the vast majority of them have reached out in support of me. I’m not asking them to believe what I believe. I am asking them to be my friend and understand what I am going through as a Zionist and as a Jew since October 7th.
I have long looked at the difference between Israeli youth and American youth. From the time I first began to engage with 18-21 year old Israelis, serving their country in the IDF, and comparing them to my own college experience and then, when working on the University of Florida campus, with the UF students. The similarities and differences were dramatic. On the many Birthright Israel trips I staffed, we had 8 Israeli soldiers join us. They were the same age as our students on the trip. When they showed up in uniform, they were imposing. Awe inspiring. A few minutes after arriving, when they changed out of their uniforms, they became peers with our college students. For the part of the trip they were with us, the similarities between the Israelis and Americans was striking. When they first arrived and then, when they put their uniforms back on at the end of their time with us, the differences were striking.
As a result, it didn’t surprise me that after October 7th, so many members of the IDF reserves showed up. I read that Israel recalled 250,000 reserve soldiers and hoped to get 200,000 to actually show up. Instead, 300,000 showed up. People in America were doing all they could to get flights to go back and serve. My friends who were retired IDF soldiers in the 40s and 50s showed up to serve. They understood the existential threat that Hamas is as a result of October 7th. Many of them went from protesting the Netanyahu government and some of their policy positions to a united front for Israel. It was extraordinary but if you know Israel and Israelis, it was also not unexpected.
Last week, Douglas Murray, one of my favorite people to follow, was given the Alexander Hamilton Award for his ‘unwavering defense of Western values.’ His speech, in text here and the video of it below, was extraordinary.
He spoke about “What it Means to Choose Life”. He uses examples of both the Ukrainian people and Israeli people that make me long for the days of my youth. Unlike our entitled generation that believes everything should be given to them, the people he talks about understand that everything comes with a price. Unlike the protesting college students who think they have the right to incite violence, take over buildings, violate campus rules and break laws without any consequences, the people Murray talks about understand that everything comes with a cost.
I want to be clear that I am not saying the college students shouldn’t protest. Protesting, especially on college campuses, is a right of passage. We have freedom of speech in the United States and as President Andrew Shephard says in the great movie, The American President,
“America isn’t easy. America is advanced citizenship. You’ve gotta want it bad, ’cause it’s gonna put up a fight. It’s gonna say, “You want free speech? Let’s see you acknowledge a man whose words make your blood boil, who’s standing center stage and advocating at the top of his lungs that which you would spend a lifetime opposing at the top of yours.” You want to claim this land as the land of the free? Then the symbol of your country cannot just be a flag. The symbol also has to be one of its citizens exercising his right to burn that flag in protest. Now show me that, defend that, celebrate that in your classrooms. Then you can stand up and sing about the land of the free.”
I disagree with the campus protesters position, and I disagree with how they characterize what is going on in Gaza. I also firmly stand with their right to peacefully say it. To gather in the public allowed space, in the manner that is allowed for everybody, and protest and hold signs, and say what they want. Crossing the line to blocking Jewish students from going to class, harassing them as they walk on campus, threatening them, physically assaulting them, breaking the campus rules and breaking laws is not acceptable and comes with consequences.
I laughed when the spokesperson for the student protesters who took over Hamilton Hall at Columbia University asked for ‘humanitarian aid’. Nobody was forcing them to stay in the building. They could walk out of the building to get food and water any time they wanted. The entitlement was absurd. The students at Princeton who have decided to hold a hunger strike to protest the war in Gaza also made me shake my head. Nobody is forcing them to go on a hunger strike. They aren’t in prison or jail where their care belongs to the state and monitoring them is therefore the state’s obligation. They are choosing not to eat and as a result, they are responsible for their own health monitoring. When they got upset that the University wasn’t monitoring their health as they were on the hunger strike, I thought to myself, ‘What entitlement’.
I missed the protests of the 60s and 70s because I was too young. I have had the opportunity to talk with many people who were part of those protests. Every single one that I spoke with could tell me how many times they were arrested for their protest. Every single one of them was proud of their arrest. They knew there would be consequences for their protest, and they embraced it. They didn’t whine and cry when the consequences came. They had that level of conviction. Today’s protesters seem to lack that conviction. They want the best of both worlds. They want to protest with no consequences and have the rest of the world cave to their demands because they protested once. There are Universities who have done this, and I believe they will face long lasting consequences for doing this. Others have held their ground and ensured that freedom of speech is protected, and inappropriate actions are held accountable and face consequences. Those who have made the second choice are also bearing the fruits of this effort. Their students feel safe. Their graduations are not cancelled. Their donors and alumni are not up in arms. Their University Presidents are not having to testify in front of Congress about how they are failing to protect Jewish college students.
Our world today has the ‘news’ in the ‘entertainment’ department. We have the 24 hour ‘news’ cycle and each station has its own agenda to push. The days of Walter Cronkite reading the news and you getting to interpret it are long gone. Whatever channel you watch feeds you their narrative. Critical thinking is dying. Deep conversations are dying.
On this trip to Israel, one of my hopes and plans is to go visit my friend Mahmoud in East Jerusalem. Mahmoud is a Palestinian Arab, and his family owns the big Palestinian bookstore in East Jerusalem. When we met in November 2019, he pushed some of my buttons and challenged me to think deeper and in different ways. In the 4 ½ years since we met, I have thought deeply on many things he said to us and very much look forward to sitting down for a few cups of coffee or tea, a bite to eat, and having a robust and deep conversation. We won’t settle the conflict, but we can do our little part to build friendships, understanding, and perhaps share what we learn from each other with our other friends that might impact change.
I think that’s the most important lesson of all of this. I remember hearing the stories of how President Ronald Reagan and Speaker of the House Tip O’Neill would argue and fight all day long and then go have a beer together. Mahmoud and I will come from different points of view and will sit over coffee and talk and share. Even as I write this, a friend reached out to share information I wasn’t aware of and it changed my mind and I went back and edited something that I wrote as a result of this new information. We need to find a way to get back to that being the norm. Yelling at each other, only speaking with people who agree with you, repeating lies because they advance your point of view, and anything else that fits into this area does not solve problems. It doesn’t get us to solutions. It doesn’t bring us together. It divides us. It separates us. It leads to physical harm. It degrades us as human beings and as a civilization.
There was a fascinating September 2023 CBS News report that said most men think about the Roman Empire once a day, and some think about it as often as three times a day. My wife asked me about it and I said that I think about it at least once a week. She was stunned. Why do men think about the Roman Empire so often? My theory is that the Roman Empire is a symbol of amazing strength and power. Incredible things came from the Roman Empire. It seemed to a power that would last forever. And it fell. I always wondered how the Roman Empire could fall. It had a strong military, powerful leaders, good economy, art, and culture. It seemed to be the type of society that would last forever. Yet it didn’t. The past few years have given me an indication of how it could have fallen. Internal bickering. Divisiveness. Lack of humanity. Lack of understanding. Growth of hate. Poor leaders in control. I hope that we can learn the lessons from the fall of the Roman Empire to avoid the fall of the American experiment. Freedom, democracy, and our future are too important to just throw away the way we are.
There are a number of people that I love to follow. I enjoy reading what they write, listening to their podcasts, and learning from them. I don’t always agree with them, but I do enjoy them making me think. Some of these include Bari Weiss, Douglass Murray, Daniel Gordis, Donniel Hartman, Kareem Abdul Jabber, Gil Troy, and Yossi Klein-Halevi. I listed this group because if you are looking to find people worth reading, these are a number of them.
In a recent blog post in the Times of Israel, Yossi Klein-Halevi wrote about the war against the Jewish story. I didn’t love the piece. I think he is right on with a few things but misses the most important part of both how and why we are losing the war against the Jewish story.
We have been outsmarted. They say Nakba. We say, ‘The war of independence when 7 Arab armies attacked and because of the briliance of David Ben Gurion and Moshe Dayan and many others, miraculously, we won.’
They say apartheid. We say, ‘Arabs have equal rights in Israel. 20% of college students are Arab. they vote. they are in the Knesset. they are on the supreme court. they have more rights in Israel than anywhere else in the Arab world.’
They say genocide. We say, ‘The IDF is the most ethical army in the world. Have you heard this general from England talk about it? That general from the United States is a big advocate for the IDF and how Israel handles warefar. Here, watch this video.”
They win because they are clear and to the point while we have to have them listen to an essay to explain things. In addition, we assume a few things:
1. People are smart and will actually bother to learn.
We have seen time and time again that while people may be book smart, they are not smart, and they certainly are lazy. They have no attention span and believe what they are fed. This assumption has been proved false and yet we continue to think that they will learn and act the same way.
2. The truth will come out and vindicate us. It does, but that’s on page 25, while the lies are on the front page.
I learned this on my first trip to Israel in 1989. That was 35 years ago, and we still do the same thing, expecting a different result. The lies get the front page of the newspaper, the lead story on the news, and the talking heads pontificating on cable news and the Sunday talk shows. We need to learn to challenge the lies forcefully right away. Call them out. And do so in a brief manner. Better to say “you lie” than to try to explain why it’s a lie to those who won’t spend the time to learn why it’s a lie.
3. People don’t hate Jews.
If there was any doubt about this, it has been resolved since October 7, 2023. It’s clear that plenty of people do hate Jews and will fight for the rights of every other group except Jews. We will be vilified because we are Jews. In Germany, we thought we were Germans first. In the US we think we are either white or Americans first. We aren’t. We are Jews first and always.
We saw this at the Eurovision competition with Eden Golan, who was charged with performing while Jewish. Protesters massed outside her hotel, trapping her in her room. They demanded she be removed from the competition, simply for being from Israel, for being Jewish. In Germany in the 1930s we thought we were German first and were proven wrong. We can’t afford to be fooled like that again.
The protest outside Eden Golan’s hotel.
4. The holocaust matters to this generation.
The Holocaust today is basically like the Civil war to my generation. It is history and not relevant. It is a story. They see a movie. They maybe meet a survivor who is old and hard to hear. More likely it is a 2nd generation survivor now or somebody who was a child at the time.
They also can’t comprehend 6 million people. In the Hamas-Israel war, there are an estimated 22,000 – 33,000 people that have been killed in Gaza. At least 12,000 are combatants. So somewhere between 10,000 and 21,000 civilians have been killed in Gaza and the world is in an outrage. Imagine 100 times those deaths. That would be between 1 million and 2.1 million. There were 6 million Jews and a total of more than 11 million civilians murdered by the Nazis. That’s 300-600 times what is happening in Gaza just for the Jews and 550-1100 times the overall number of civilians murdered.
Many years ago, I worked for the State of Florida. I had a big work ethic and wanted to do a great job. I took on more responsibility because I was able to. As a result, I got dirty looks from my co-workers. I was showing them up. When one of them went on vacation for two weeks, not only did I do my job and the extra responsibilities I had taken on, I did their job and not only did the work for those 2 weeks but because I wanted to do an excellent job, cleared their caseload for an extra 2 weeks. When my co-worker got back, she was furious with me because I made her look bad because I could do my job, take on extra work, and do her job better than she could just her job. This is what we are dealing with in today’s world. People want things to be the way they want them to be and when it isn’t, they throw a fit, scream and yell, and some get violent. This video of a protester at Penn is a perfect example. When he doesn’t get his way, he storms off, screaming like a small child.
The police tore down the “Liberated Zone” at University of Pennsylvania this morning.
An anti-Israel student later showed up to mourn met pro-Israeli students.
He said that the hostages are liars but are at least kept alive by Hamas.
Today’s generation wants the world to work in a way that it simply doesn’t. Terrorists who are evil don’t just follow the rules because you tell them to. University leaders don’t typically just do whatever the students want regardless of anything else because the students protest. Their desire to live in a different world is laudable. Our world can get better as a result. It doesn’t happen overnight. And people like terrorists don’t change because you want them to. Different cultures have different values. They don’t change their values because you tell them they should. Today’s generation truly believes that just because they say it, it happens. Just because they believe it to correct, the world changes for them.
We are losing the battle today because we are doing an inferior job of communicating our message. We are simply being outclassed in the battle for the hearts and minds of this generation. We make far too many assumptions about them and are letting these assumptions get in the way of doing what is needed to reach their hearts and mines. Israel is a miraculous story. When you look at what Tel Aviv looked like in the early 1900s when the Jews were forced to leave Jaffa, it is extraordinary to see it today. A thriving democracy, equal rights for all citizens, making the desert bloom, the start-up nation, a technologically brilliant country that created technology that literally pulls clean drinking water from the air. The stories of this country should resonate with today’s generation, but they don’t. That’s on us. We no longer can treat them the way we want them to act, we need to reach out to them in the ways that they engage and connect.
When the under 40 demographic is truly exposed to the amazing story of Israel, they fall in love with it. A country that truly lives Diversity, Equity, and Inclusion (DEI) where equal access is not just a goal but an active process to ensure is a reality. Medical care for all. Excellent education that doesn’t break the bank. Mandatory national service. So much of what they want in the US is already in place in Israel but we don’t tell our story and let our enemies frame the story against us.
It’s time for this to stop. We need to own our story. We need to tell our story. We need to allow them to see the beauty of Israel and fall in love with it. We need them to see Israel as the hope for them to live with the values they want. It’s our job. It’s our responsibility. Are you up to the challenge?
Ever since October 7th, I have wanted to go back to Israel. I was supposed to go in November 2023, but the trip was cancelled, and my family was uncomfortable with me going to volunteer. Every day I would struggle with the deep desire to be in my homeland, doing my part to help. Serving in the IDF is not an option at my age and without any military background. But I can cook, clean, pick fruits and vegetables, and do whatever is needed. The needs of my family for me not to go overrode my need and desire to go. It has not been easy or comfortable, being in the US and my heart and soul in Israel.
This changes on Saturday night when my flight departs for Israel. I have the opportunity to go both for my own needs and for work related business. It is getting me there which is what I need. To be with my Israeli friends who have been serving in the IDF. To visit the kibbutzim that were attacked on October 7th, go back to Sderot, also attacked. To pay tribute at the Nova music festival site. To spend time in Hostage square in Tel Aviv.
There is a saying that ‘Leaders lead’. You take risks. You do the right thing regardless of the consequences. For me, going to Israel right now falls into that category. As a Jew, as a proud Zionist, it is my obligation to be there, to be part of my homeland, to give back, and to support my Israeli brothers and sisters. Too many leaders in our world are so afraid of the backlash of doing the right thing that they do nothing. As a result, they are merely a leader in name.
We saw that today when President Biden said, “if they go into Rafah, I’m not supplying the weapons that have been used historically to deal with Rafah, to deal with the cities — that deal with that problem.” Going into Rafah is a necessity to both rescue hostages and defeat Hamas.
This came a day after he said, “My commitment to the safety of the Jewish people, the security of Israel, and its right to exist as an independent Jewish people and Israel is ironclad, even when we disagree.”
Yesterday’s statement caused him potential electoral issues in Michigan and Minnesota and with the Progressive wing of his party. Rather than do what is right, supporting our ally, fighting against terrorism and evil, he backtracked and tried to play both sides. Yesterday he was against terrorism, hatred, and antisemitism. Today he was in favor of terrorism, hatred, and antisemitism. That’s not what leaders do.
This isn’t a partisan take. Representatives John Fetterman and Ritchie Torres are leaders. They have taken a position with our ally, in support of good over evil, against terrorism and hate. They haven’t forgotten the hostages and aren’t afraid to speak out, even when they take incredible criticism. Doing the right thing is more important than poll results.
Senator Fetterman’s office has posters of the hostages hanging on the walls
Senator Fetterman remains Pro-Israel, wants the hostages back, and is anti-Hamas and terror
We live in a world where our “leaders” are more concerned with being liked and tracking their approval ratings than actually leading. We see this in our Jewish community, in our local community, in our states and in the federal government. They aren’t trained properly. They aren’t mentored properly. Many don’t want it and think they know what it means and what it entails. Others want it but can’t find it. The vast majority of our leaders have not had anybody provide them with the guidance and instruction needed.
I often think back to the people who trained and mentored me. One was very hard on me. Very critical. I used to say that he was ‘crusty’ on the outside and ‘gooey’ on the inside. You had to deal with the crusty exterior to get to the gooey interior. He wouldn’t take excuses from me. He wouldn’t accept anything but excellence. He didn’t sugarcoat anything. He told it like it is and didn’t try to soften it up to save my feelings. He made me a better professional and a better person. He would often challenge me about my own personal desires. Did I want to be excellent, or did I want to be mediocre? If I wanted to be mediocre, then he didn’t have to spend time with me. If I wanted to be excellent then I had to do things differently. I learned tremendous lessons from him.
The other mentor I think about was much softer and nicer in his presentation. He explained things and sent the message in a kinder way. He also wouldn’t take excuses. He wouldn’t let me off the hook from doing things the right way. He challenged the way I thought and the reasons behind my thought process. He laid out his expectations if he was going to invest his time and if I wasn’t willing to do what we required to meet them, he would invest his time elsewhere. He shared his own personal experiences and what went right and where things went off the tracks. He wasn’t afraid to be vulnerable about the times he wasn’t successful and what he learned from those times. He would listen as I would share the things I learned from my mistakes and share in the joy of my successes.
Throughout my career, I have leaned on these lessons. Both men made a significant impact on my life. They taught me about integrity, especially as a leader. They taught me that at the end of the day, I have to live with myself, my choices, and my actions. They taught me that it’s better to do the right thing and get negative consequences than to do the wrong thing and get positive recognition. I’ll always be grateful to them for their time and their investment in me.
It is something that I strive to do for others. Just in the last week, I have had former employees reach out to say hi, send me a picture of them together, check in on me, ask for help with career changes, to work on an exciting project together, to pick my brain as they prepare for job interviews, and to just say thank you. It is incredibly gratifying to know that I am paying it forward from what these two men did for me. I look at it as an obligation that I have to make the world better by helping train leaders. I have the privilege of working with a friend to do leadership training for college students through taking them to Israel. Together we are working on a young leadership training program in Israel for February 2025. If we want better leaders, we have to take action to develop them.
Leadership trip for 19-26 year olds. Highly subsidized. An amazing experience. Sign up now!
I also have the privilege of working as a mentor to a younger professional who reminds me a great deal of myself when I began working with my first mentor. I get a lot of gratitude helping him grow, helping him see things differently, challenging him to be excellent instead of mediocre, just as I was challenged. It’s incredibly rewarding as I watch him grow. Each time he ‘gets it’ and understands the ‘why’ behind the ‘what’, I get a lot of joy. I can only imagine that my mentors felt the same way when I finally ‘got it’.
We live in challenging times. We need our leaders more than ever and true leaders are in short supply. It brings me back to my trip to Israel. I want to show my children what it means to be a leader. What it means to do what you think is right despite the risks. I want them to understand how important it is to do what is right no matter what. They have seen me live my values throughout the years. Doing what was needed for my dad during the last few weeks of his life. Being there for my mom during that time and afterwards. Staying true to myself and my values, morals, and ethics in spite of situations with others that it would be easy to abandon them for personal gain. Being there in DC as one of the 300,000 people there for the big rally in support of Israel.
I can’t wait to go to Israel. It’s only a few days and it feels like an eternity. I will get to see my friend Grace. My friends Margot and Tamar and their children. My friends Yaron and Yoni who are volunteering and speaking to us. I plan on going to East Jerusalem and having a long coffee and conversation with my Palestinian friend Mahmoud. I hope to see my friend Noam who lives in Boston but as it happens in the Jewish world, will be in Israel for a few days when I am there. I’m having dinner with my friend Tamara and her kids. I’ll get the personal meaning that I need in Jerusalem, at the Nova site, at hostage square, and at the Kibbutzim in the south. I’ll give back by picking fruits and vegetables and having dinner with IDF soldiers to say thank you.
Paratroopers in the IDF running up Masada to finish their training. What a celebration. Something I will never forget. Incredible personal meaning for them and for those of us who joined their celebration.
I’ll lead by following my values, morals, and ethics. I’ll lead by taking the time to learn and grow. I’ll lead by spending time with friends from America on the trip, talking about our lives and the challenges we face along with the experience we are having. I’ll lead by writing about the experience and sharing it publicly to inspire others. And I’ll lead by showing my children not only what it means to be a leader but also how important it is to do it with grace. To stay true to your values, morals, and ethics. To do what’s right no matter what.
At the Passover Seder we end with “l’shana haba’ah b’yerushalayim, Next Year in Jerusalem”. I’ll end this blog by saying “Next Week in Jerusalem”.
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