The car graveyard at Moshav Tekuma. The vehicles – recovered from along Highway 232 and the site of the Nova music festival – are being kept for at least a year, for investigators to scour them for further evidence. (photo by Adina Horwich)
At the beginning of April, I had a very long day, which is rare for me. I rose at 5:45 a.m. to visit the Gaza Envelope with 30 others. At 7:35, the bus left Jerusalem. Our guide boarded at Latrun. We proceeded toward the Re’im Junction, also known as Masmia, then headed south to Sderot.
At Sderot, we went to the site of the destroyed police station, where many police and staffers were killed on Oct. 7. The town is slowly returning to normal function, as many evacuees have returned and schools have reopened. A new police station has been built.
Despite being the closest community to Gaza, under nearly constant fire from Hamas for nearly 20 years, Sderot has become an attractive place for young families, joining the stalwart old-timers. I was there several times a dozen years ago, when my son was a student at Sapir College, and have always enjoyed spending time there. New neighbourhoods, including high rises, have sprung up.
From a lookout on the outskirts of the city, atop Kobi’s Hill, we could see the entire length of the Gaza Strip. The lookout was consecrated in memory of four soldiers who died in Operation Protective Edge in 2014. It was impressive, if that is the word, to see Gaza from so close. Mere kilometres.
We visited the up-and-coming city of Netivot, which is nearby. There, too, we saw much real estate, which has attracted a mostly, though not exclusively, religious sector, with Baba Sali’s gravesite and shrine a major calling card. He was a beloved rabbi and sage, particularly dear to Jews of Moroccan background. We went inside a well-tended sanctuary, to have a look and offer prayers. The place was hopping. As it was Monday, a Torah reading day, it was a suitable time to celebrate bar mitzvahs, and we caught a festive first haircutting of twin 3-year-old boys.
Afterwards, we headed to Moshav Tekuma. We did not expect to be allowed in, as there was heavy security and restricted access, but we were granted permission. Within the guarded gates, we saw what looked like a huge car junkyard – except that it is a graveyard. All the cars were recovered from along Highway 232 and the site of the Nova music festival at Re’im. They are being kept for at least a year, for investigators and forensic experts to scour them for further evidence. Many cars are smashed up, as if they had been in bad accidents, others are pockmarked, having been sprayed with bullets. Surrounding these is a huge pile of rusty scrap and charred rescue vehicles, as well as pickup trucks and motorcycles used by the terrorists to infiltrate the area.
We drove further along the road, past Kibbutz Sa’ad and Alumim, along Route 232, and stopped just outside Kibbut Be’eri (the public is not allowed in). We looked inside one of the roadside shelters, next to a bus stop, which normally accommodates roughly eight people. On Oct. 7, some 40 people stuffed themselves inside. It was into such structures that many fled from the Re’im festival, seeking refuge, but the terrorists hurled grenades inside. At one migunit, Aner Shapira managed to throw the grenades back at the terrorists, though, in the end, he was killed, along with other young people. Inside are memorial candles, stickers with the pictures and names of victims, letters and comforting wishes are written on the walls.
We traveled some more, reaching the city of Ofakim. That is where a very brave woman, Rachel Edri, appeased the five terrorists who barged into her home by offering them refreshments, including her now-famous cookies. She and her husband, David, both in their 60s, were able to manage the terrorists, engaging them in conversation, plying them with more food and singing songs, over 19 hours. Whenever she could, Rachel would go to the bathroom and signal from the window to the police outside, who had surrounded the house, gauging attempts to enter. The Edris’s son is in the police force and was instrumental in finally seizing back their home. Unfortunately, during the siege, the house suffered great damage and is a total wreck; only a shell remains. And, sadly, David Edri passed away about a month ago. Rachel has gone to live with her sister-in-law.
As we were looking around, another hero appeared in the small parking lot opposite. Shuki Yosef lives across the street with his wife. He invited us to come into their building’s shelter, where he recounted how he and some of the neighbours hid for several hours, all the while hearing gunshots and shouting outside. He secured a metal bicycle frame to keep the shelter’s door closed, holding it with his own hands for hours. Later, after the ordeal had ended, he designed and fashioned a wooden plank to better fit the door hinges, in the event of future need.
The bravery of these residents is remarkable. It is worth noting that their homes are not the closest ones to the highway – which one might think would have been attacked first – but the houses and people who took the brunt of the terrorist attack are tucked well within the city. The sheer gall and number of terrorists that infiltrated, going from house to house on a murderous rampage in Sderot, in Ofakim, in the kibbutzim, on the roadsides, gunning down so many, are mind-boggling. These communities all lie within minutes of each other in a pretty small area.
It was an unusually hot day for April 1, over 30 degrees Celsius. And it was an intense excursion. Visiting made the reality a lot more tangible, but still impossible to fully comprehend. It was moving to witness and I learned much. We left the Otef (Envelope/Wrapping), as it is called, and I arrived home just before 7 p.m.
More than six months have passed since Oct. 7 and we remain in the thick of things. It is taxing and draining, even on those of us who, fortunately, are not too closely involved. Everyone is touched by the terror attacks and the war.
Adina Horwich was born in Israel to Canadian parents. In 1960, the family returned to Canada, first living in Halifax, then in a Montreal suburb. In 1975, at age 17, Horwich made aliyah, and has lived mostly in the Jerusalem area. She won a Rockower Award for journalistic excellence in covering Zionism, aliyah and Israel for her article “Immigration challenges” (jewishindependent.ca/immigration-challenges-2).
