Editor’s Fix: In the podcast I refer to 97 hostages. Some media refer to 97. That number includes those captured on October 7. When 101 is used… it includes four hostages held by Hamas since 2014.

It is significant that the one year mark of what was perhaps modern Israel’s darkest day falls between Rosh HaShanah and Yom Kippur. This ten-day period, known as the Days of Awe, is a time when Jewish people are meant to reflect on the past year. To take stock of their inner life, unsparingly. And if they have wronged someone they are expected to seek forgiveness, but only if they do so with humility. Unreservedly.

Whether one “believes” or not, this coincidental timing is profound.

On Monday, October 7, I woke up very early. at 6:30 am, just one minute later than the beginning of the horrific attack of that Black Sabbath, one year ago. We had dreaded this day for so long. And here it was. I set out in late morning for the site of the Nova Music Festival. To get there I drive along Road 232, which was an alley of death one year ago. At the site, I spoke with bereaved family members, among them Shlomo and Rita Krief. They lost their 17-year-old son, Shahaf, at nearby Zikim Beach, one year ago. As often happens in Israel, so many strangers came together to comfort Shlomo and Rita, who were inconsolable.It was a spontaneous gathering and I learned so much and felt so deeply. This vignette is a sampling of how immeasurably October 7 impacted this country and, I expect, will remain with us for decades. Perhaps centuries.

The way in which families have been treated by the current government has stoked anger and bitterness, regrettably. In so saying I am acting as the conduit for the bereaved. It is something that I heard and was repeated all over Israel last Monday. This is not an issue of partisan politics. Not right or left. This is about abandonment. Not fulfilling one's duty. That is how so many feel today.

And that was very evident in the backstory - which we tell - and the main event commemorating October 7. The Bereaved Families Memorial Ceremony. It was held on Monday night at Yarkon Park in Tel Aviv. Survivors, bereaved, artists, singers. Two thousand people convened for this ceremony that was organized by the brother of a hostage who had been killed in error by the IDF. It was an extraordinary event, televised live in Israel. Not a single government representative or official was included or invited. We tell you why.

In this podcast, I take you on the journey I went on last Monday. It has overpowered me all week. And it is so appropriate to share on this day, just before Kol Nidre, Erev Yom Kippur. The Day of Atonement. You will hear direct, raw testimony. Mournful but hopeful song. Real. Raw. In the moment.

If you want to understand the mood in Israel today, I urge you to watch the ceremony in full. Or dip into the clips we have provided, below.

Podcast Notes:

* Bereaved Families Memorial Ceremony at Hayarkon Park, Tel Aviv, Monday, October 7, 2024:

* Clip from full ceremony of an interview with Yuval Tabelsi giving testimony about her experience at the Nova Festival one year earlier and how she is coping with the loss of her husband. As there are no English subtitles I have provided a quick translation, following:

The clip opens with Yuval at the dumpsite near the Nova Festival where all the incinerated cars have been taken. She says it is her first time there and she is looking for their car. She very much wants to find the car - something that was theirs at their last moments together. She speaks about how well-suited and happy they were together and moves into a recounting of their final moments. They were trapped at an intersection. He told her to fold in on herself and hide as much as possible. He shouted “Shema Yisrael,” and said he hoped they come through this. She says she believes that Mor understood he would die there. She heard only gunshots, saw her husband dead. And she and her friends smeared Mor’s blood on themselves so that if the terrorists come by the car they will think that they are dead. They heard horrible sounds; including a woman being raped. In her life, she says, she has never heard such screams for help. She said - “Mor - I don’t know where you are now. But if I am going to die - at least not like this.” Every time she visits Mor’s grave, she says……she sings to him Ivri Lider’s song, “I Had a Chance to Love.” :

* Clip of Israeli music legend, Ivri Lider, singing "I Had a Chance to Love", inspired by Yuval's love story, so tragically cut short. Ivri is joined on stage towards the end of the performance by Yuval. The Hebrew lyrics are subtitled in English; and

* Clip of remarks at the October 7 ceremony of Rafi Ben Chitrit, father of a fallen soldier. Remarks are subtitled in English.

State of Tel Aviv is a reader-supported publication. To receive new posts and support my work, consider becoming a free or paid subscriber.

This is a public episode. If you'd like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit www.stateoftelaviv.com/subscribe

#186 - Breaking Free From a Toxic Relationship