A Note From Rabbi Laurie:
Cantor Josh is safe in Israel during a historic and disconcerting time after Israel's preemptive strike on Iran last night. All trip participants are safe and looking forward to a peaceful Shabbat together. The following is Cantor's log from a day in the Gaza envelope yesterday before the strike on Iran.
Today was a day that will live in my mind forever—a day of bearing witness to history and becoming transmitters of memory.
This morning, at 6 a.m., we drove down to Meshek Beit Hagdi, an agricultural center in Netivot, a village just a short drive from the edge of the Gaza Strip. After being greeted by the operator, we entered an impossibly large greenhouse. As a team, we spent two hours tying and cutting twine used to grow cucumbers. While not quite as labor-intensive as the activities from our previous two days, it did require concentration, careful use of knives (at least one person nicked themselves), and endurance, since the greenhouse effectively became a gigantic sauna. An eerie sonic backdrop to our experience was the intermittent sounds of bombs dropping in the distance from across the Gaza border, each like a booming clap of thunder, but without a single cloud in the sky. We each took a row and worked our way down, accomplishing as much as possible within our allotted time.
As a thank you, the operator let us sample some freshly harvested cucumbers on site. A fitting and appreciated reward after helping to prepare them for their next cucumber harvest.
After this experience, we departed for the second half of our day: a tour of Reim and S’derot—two cities that now live in infamy as the sites of some of the most horrific battles of October 7th, which history will know forevermore as the beginning of the “Swords of Iron War.”
The rest of the afternoon took on a surreal, dreamlike quality. Sites that we had all seen in pictures over the past two years appeared before us, but somehow still seemed like a mirage.
We started at the burnt vehicles compound, which is, sadly, exactly what it sounds like. A collection of Nova music festival victims’ vehicles—charred, gruesomely disfigured, and riddled with bullet holes. Now effectively an automotive mausoleum, it stands as a visceral tribute to their tragic and terrifying murders, and the heroism of those who risked their lives to try and rescue others from brutal acts of terrorism on that fateful day. We met the father of festival-goer Ben Shimoni (z’l’), who happened to come to the compound that morning to lovingly adorn his late son’s car with extra Israeli flags.
With tears in our eyes, we moved on to the festival site itself—a large open field where a groovy music festival transformed into a hellish nightmare. We gathered and heard personal stories from the IDF soldiers who joined us for the day. Everyone in Israel is seemingly connected by one or two degrees of separation. Then we walked around the hallowed grounds, spending time looking at and reading each plaque, every one with a picture and a story representing a sweet young angel taken too soon. Artists, musicians, and techies—boyfriends, girlfriends, husbands, wives, siblings, and cousins of those they left behind. All so very beautiful and so very young and with so much potential and so much life left to live. I encountered a young soldier standing in front of one of the plaques, softly crying to himself. I asked him if he knew the person in the picture. He said, “He was my best friend. The best person ever.” I hugged him.
As our bus took off from the site, driving onto the narrow roads leading back to the main highway, I had a momentary bout of survivor’s guilt as the cruel reality hit me: the simple fact that we were able to drive away safely, while hundreds of festival-goers who desperately tried to escape were prevented from doing so by heavy gunfire and explosives. It seemed so unfair. That compounded with the overwhelming feeling that 99% of the world doesn’t seem to fully understand or care about what happened here. It begs the question: what would the public discourse have been had this happened at Coachella, Bonnaroo, or Burning Man??
Finally, we visited the police station memorial in S’derot where all that remains in place of where a local police station once stood are 18 pillars. Our guide, Sergei, explained to us how this battle unfolded, as the local police force did everything they could to fend off the terrorists infiltrating their city. Ultimately, Israeli forces decided to cut their losses and destroy the entire station and the gunmen that remained inside.
While we had lunch, we ran into some other IDF members. I talked to one of them, an American from New Jersey who had also been visiting the Nova site that morning. He said the soldiers are sent there every so often as a reminder of why exactly we are fighting this war.
I think all of the people in our now tight-knit travel group finished the day differently than we started it. It was a somber day, and we will carry that weight with us even as we head into the celebratory joy of Shabbat and the Tel Aviv Pride festival that awaits us this weekend.
The de facto mantra of Nova Survivors and families is, “WE WILL DANCE AGAIN.” That mantra will be echoing through the halls of every nightclub in Tel Aviv this weekend. With every flash of strobe lights and every thump of subwoofers, Israelis and their allies reclaim their joy, reaffirming their millennia-old hope that the nation of Israel indeed lives. Am Yisrael chai!!!
With deep love, respect, and gratitude,
Cantor Josh Goldberg
ADDENDUM:
Around 3 am, we got a red alert, and sirens started going off. Israel launched a major strike on Iran’s nuclear program. After a few hours, we were told it was safe to go to bed but to remain on alert. Possible Pride Fest may be postponed, and flights may be cancelled. Going to try to get some sleep and will see what tomorrow holds. This was our second red alert this week, but this one is more serious as it involves a major nuclear power and immediately made international news. Luckily, we have a bomb shelter here in the hostel. I feel safe and grateful to the IDF for protecting us. But prayers are still appreciated. ❤️
