Friends:
We are 35 miles from the Gaza Strip. The Gaza Strip was a beautiful, coastal enclave which Israel left in 2005. All twenty-one villages were vacated and the bountiful land which provided more than 60% of the produce for the entire nation of Israel was turned over to the Palestinians. The people of the Gaza Strip elected Hamas to be their government of choice which turned the seaside villages into an endless munitions factory. Despite the fact that the Israelis left their homes and buildings intact, structures were torn down and those bountiful fields were torched all because they had been owned by Jews.
We moved to this country in 2007 and 18 years after Israel turned the Gaza strip over to the Palestinians, they came “home” to roost. Oh yes, they came to our homes. Into them and upon them. Ironically, during the sixteen years we have lived here, there was not one year where rockets were not launched at Israel’s civilian population. Yet, we’ve never seen anything like this. 6:30 AM on Saturday morning we were awoken by air raid sirens. We ran into our “safe room” and let’s just say I never wanted my wife to see her son ‘n law dressed like that but when you only have 30 seconds, you don’t waste time getting dressed. What we learned later that day was that devastation was not a suitable enough word for what we had endured. Over 1,000 Israelis killed, more than 3,000 hospitalized, over 150 taken hostage and thousands of missiles launched at our cities and towns. Americans, Argentinians, British and Thai Nationals amongst the deceased. Almost 300 teens and young people murdered at an all-night dance festival, an 87 year old grandmother taken hostage, a tiny infant kidnapped and taken into Gaza. Children shot in the head, a police station taken over, neighbors afraid to open their doors to military personnel because Hamas terrorists had dressed up in Israeli uniforms to wreak as much havoc as possible. Where was our government we used to be proud of? Asleep. Asleep at the wheel. We had been abandoned and left to die on one of the holiest days of the year, a day where we celebrate the completion of the reading of the Torah and begin it once again.
The stories were unbelievably cruel. A Rabbi that went to provide CPR to a victim that was bleeding, only to be shot himself while he was trying to save her life. Children gunned down in front of their parents and pregnant women taken away from their husbands. As I write this to you, my home in the countryside is shaking. The windows rattle in their frames as we hear booms in the distance. We live in a tiny village with 140 families. On Sunday we implemented an armed citizens patrol. I’m a part of it, and I squeeze it in between the rest of my new responsibilities. We now have another family living with us. A woman with four children who saw her uncle gunned down in front of her. They lived in Sderot, a city that our government forgot years ago. My son used to live there. He is autistic, and we had to move him because those rocket attacks kept coming, and the government would strike back and then forget about the events as quickly as they had started. The boys in the group home lived right next to the Gaza Strip, and they had about 15 seconds to get into the bomb shelter. Have you ever tried moving two dozen autistic boys into a bomb shelter in the middle of the night during an air raid siren? You’ve got a better chance of winning the Powerball. So now we have this beautiful family from Ethiopia living with us because their city is being bombed for the 85th time. For how long you ask? Heck if I know. Could be a week, a month, a year. They have nowhere to go.
I’ll wake in four hours to run 200 meals and 300 bottles of water two hours south of here to those that need it. Then I’ll drive back here and help to organize our homemade command center which is basically a living room for two families where our neighbors gather to make meals and cards for families, soldiers and victims each day. So now what? Well, as I watch the news I see the narrative is beginning to change. Israel is striking back hard, the way we should have done years ago and people are worried about the families in the Gaza Strip. What is the alternative? If you had rockets launched at you for close to two decades and then had 1,000 people murdered on a Saturday morning, how would you feel? In a country of only ten million all of us have friends and neighbors that have lost someone they love. The DB Manager in the company I work for? Her son lost one of his close friends. The gentleman that worked civilian guard duty with me on Monday night? His best friend lost his son. The head of the council next to the Gaza Strip? He lost his life defending his family. The mother living with us from Sderot? She is so traumatized she cannot stop crying so the wounds that were inflicted will remain with us. The children will not sleep without all of the lights on. The nightmares keep coming. The harm has been inflicted upon a generation.
Then today another call. Can we take in another family? This one a woman with her sister and three kids. Their house bombarded with rockets and shrapnel. What can I say? No? Tell them to go elsewhere? We will sleep in sleeping bags on the floor if we must. There are 72 eggs on my kitchen counter now. With all of these people in the house, half will be gone by tomorrow. We can buy some more. Oh wait, the stores are running out of bread and eggs. So I’ve started this daily journal to share with you what I’m seeing. If you want me to add someone to it, send me their email address. If you want me to talk to your church or your synagogue, we can schedule a ZOOM. I’d be happy to do it. I can’t come because all of the airlines have canceled flights so we are stuck here. Would we leave if we could? No. This is home. When your neighbors need you, the last thing you do is run. Mom raised me better than that. So why do I want to have a voice now? Several reasons. First, we’re feeling a bit alone and it’s important to know that people care, especially now. Second, I think getting a story from the news and hearing it from someone living it are two totally different things. So let me know. I’m grateful to you for letting me share some of my pain. I never thought I’d see such cruelty, but I will tell you that I’ve also seen incredible humanity. Allow me to leave those stories for the coming days. Until then, pray for us. Please. We didn’t choose this battle.
May G-d bless you.
*******
David
David at People for Israel
USA: +1.201.801.6440
Israel: +972.52.705.6300
david@peopleforisrael.com
www.peopleforisrael.com
Since October 7, 2023
