An Account of the Bombing in Tzfat

I spent this past Shabbat in the holy city of Tzfat. It was a very relaxing Shabbat amongst the crisp mountain air and beautiful, spiritual surroundings. The next morning, my friend and I were planning a trip to Nahal Yehudia, a gorgeous hike in the Golan which runs along, and through, a river at the bottom of the cafe. We woke up at 8:30 and left the hostel at 9 to buy breakfast and new sandals for me. As we were walking, I received a telephone call from a fellow volunteer in Haifa, " Did I hear that there was a bus bombing in Tzfat? " I did not, but after asking some people it turned out that a bus had exploded at the Meron junction, a few minutes away from Tzfat, and under Mt. Meron, the resting place of Rabbi Shimon bar Yochai. I am a volunteer medic with Magen David Adom in Haifa, Israel for the summer as is my friend. While he continued to the local MDA station, I ran back to put on pants and boots.

Eventually I made my way to a junction where there were other waiting medics and volunteers and was picked up by a medic from Yitzhar (in the Shomrom) who was visiting with his baby and wife at his parents for Shabbat in order to get away from the matzav a little. We made our way down a back country rode to the junction and were passed on to the site. What I saw I hope that none of us ever has to see again.

We reached the site of the bombing after almost all the wounded were evacuated...but the bodies had not yet been. The first thing I noticed was what looked like a toy bus that was crumpled by a child. It was the remains of the bus #361 - which runs the Haifa - Tzfat line, the line I took the previous day. The front, side and roof were blown off the bus. The windshield was blown some 300 feet and the surrounding bush was burnt. The next thing I noticed was the smell, which at first I couldn't quite place, and then I realized it was the smell of burning flesh and rubber. It is a smell one can never forget. The carnage defies all description but I will try. If you are weak stomached please skip ahead but I don't feel it would be the right thing to spare anyone because it is important to know what the truth is, and that the sanitized pictures in the NYTimes are not the truth.

All around the area there was wreckage, most of it covered in blood, spread out. There was much clothing and bags as well, as many of the passengers were soldiers returning to their bases. Lying by the front door was what looked like one of those dummies they have in haunted houses, except it wasn't fake. It was a man, or more aptly, the remains of a man. His whole side had been blown off and his insides were hanging out. As the Zaka volunteers (the volunteers who are trained to collect and identify every bit of remains from an accident or attack in order to ensure that the victims are given a proper burial ) were allowed onto the bus, they started scouring it for bits of flesh. As I moved to get a better look I noticed a plastic ziplock bag, such as one we would put lunch in, except this one had brain matter. By a group of Zaka at the side of the bus there was a commotion, and one of them held up a M16 rifle, blown into half by the blast. Then they started pulling out pieces of what I thought were uniform, until I realized that they contained body parts of what was once a soldier, a young man with dreams and hopes like each of us. Who earlier that morning kissed his mother and father goodbye and ensured them that he would be home next Shabbat..... All throughout this ordeal the stench of burning flesh hung in the air. Another body was found. This time it was a woman, identifiable by her body, since her head was missing. The list goes on.

There were over 40 wounded. The media likes to break them into categories, light, moderate, serious. In a terrorist attack there are no light wounded, our instructors in the mass casualty response course ( which I had completed the Friday before ) taught us. For instance, in one incident, a woman with a scratch on her chest walked to the ambulance. In the hospital the scans showed a nail in her heart. Besides the physical wounds, some of which will heal, most of which will not, there is the psychological trauma. The fear of public places and buses, the recurring nightmares and bed wedding, the incessant crying for no apparent reason, the inability to function normally anymore. This is what terrorism is. This is the horrible, uncensored reality. The aim is not to kill many people but rather to destroy as many people as possible. To keep us from living life. To keep children from playgrounds and parents as armed guards to kindergartens; cars being checked before parking in lots and malls, bags searched before entering a movie theater, nervously eyeing everyone on the bus as you look for your seat and then watching the front door as others get on; about being fearful to sit in your favorite cafe or park, about being afraid to take the main road or driving to your family in certain towns and villages, about deciding which restaurant has better security. The fear and helplessness, the feeling of abandonment by the world, and our brothers and sisters. And this is only the beginning. Without living here day in and day out, you can never truly understand the fear and the bravery of our brothers and sisters living here.

But all is not bleak. Life goes on here. People struggle and fight in their own ways. Some go to the movie theaters and cafes, others continue going to school after its been bombed, people show up for reserve duty years after they have completed it, people still open their homes and cars to strangers, the Kotel still has its minyanim, and life goes on despite all.

I would like to share one such story that touched me a few weeks after I came to Israel. I was on an emergency call and the ambulance was driving with its lights and sirens blaring when we got stuck in a busy intersection. The cars on the road we were on weren't moving. It was a jam. All of a sudden a complete stranger, unaffiliated with MDA, gets up and starts walking up and down the street knocking on windows and ordering the cars to move, even onto the sidewalk, for the ambulance had to get through. This middle aged, extremely non intimidating man, was commanding the traffic. Then he went into the middle of the very busy intersection ( as some of us know here that means risking his life ) and stopped all traffic. He refused to budge or let one car through until we had cleared the intersection. This man was not connected with MDA directly, he will remain anonymous and we will never be able to thank him correctly. Yet that was meaningless for him for the important thing was that we had a life to save. You can all make your appropriate comparisons. This is one of the many reasons I love Israel and being Jewish. Your people are so holy, Hashem, despite our mistakes and we are crying out to you.

Many of you are probably feeling frustrated, watching the news, and not knowing how to help. Well that is something we can all change. The only way we will overcome these difficult times is if we change our ways and come back to our Mother. We have to start acting better towards one another, with more love, understanding, and patience. Next time you feel like yelling at someone, say Good morning, or Shavua tov instead. You have an extra dollar, give it to tzedaka, anonymously. You have an extra few minutes, say tehillim, or learn a chapter from Pirke Avot. You have an extra afternoon, go visit our brothers and sisters who aren't doing too well and are in the hospital, or do the wonderful mitzvah of beautifying the faces of our elders, and visit an old age home. Say a prayer before you go to bed, in your own words and from your heart, asking God to take us once again into His bosom, and put some love and Torah into our hearts and the will to do His will, to watch over our brothers and sisters who are fighting so that we may have a place to call home. You hear someone saying something bad about these or those Jews, admonish him or her politely. Someone is saying loshon hara, walk away, or better yet try to change the topic of conversation, and you both get a mitzvah, and God knows ( no pun intended ) we need them. You never kept Shabbat, light candles, make kiddush with your family and try to keep it for 15 minutes, and so forth and so forth.

Only thus will we be able to defeat our enemies. We must be strong of heart and faith, and help one another, to make it past these days and merit to see the ultimate redemption of Moshichaynu, may it be soon...may it be tomorrow, when we will all live in peace, in our holy beautiful land, in the ways of Torah, when no nation shall live up sword against another nation, and neither will they learn war anymore. When the Word of God will go forth from Tzion to the whole world, and love will gush forward like the strongest rivers. May it be speedily and soon, amen. May we hear only besorot tovot, good news, and hear the voice of bride and bridegroom, joy and laughter, throughout Jerusalem and all over.

Shalom and le'hitraot your brother,
Eric Norman