In Kibbutz Nir Oz, the aftermath of a tragic event still lingers. Ofer Calderon and his children Sahar and Erez were captured by Hamas terrorists, while Hadas Calderon survived the attack that claimed the lives of her mother and niece. Reporters were given access to the kibbutz a year later, where they saw the remnants of the Calderon home and heard the story of their escape.
Nearby, Batsheva Yahalomi recounted the harrowing experience of being held captive by terrorists in her home with her children after her husband, Ohad, was taken into Gaza. Despite believing he had been killed, Yahalomi remains hopeful that Ohad is still alive. The IDF has been tracking his location, but there is uncertainty surrounding his fate.
As the anniversary of the tragic events approaches, Yahalomi is in Paris at the invitation of the French President, while many residents of the kibbutz have relocated to Kiryat Gat. The once vibrant community of Nir Oz now sees only occasional visitors, with Yahalomi and her family settling in a new kibbutz near Netanya. However, she believes that the kibbutz should be preserved as a reminder of the attacks and a lesson for future generations. She compared it to Auschwitz. Shahar Goldstein, a resident of Kibbutz Kfar Aza, pointed out her former home, just beyond the block where the kibbutz’s young adults lived. Goldstein was not present during the attack, as she had decided to spend the holiday weekend away with her wife and parents, who also lived in Kfar Aza. She believes that her decision saved her life, gesturing towards the rainbow flag outside her former home and stating that she would have died if she had been there that day, given Hamas’ treatment of LGBTQ individuals.
Goldstein’s neighborhood became a target for terrorists, with many residents killed or abducted, and most homes destroyed. She wore a hat with the name Emily in honor of the residents still held hostage in Gaza, including Emily Damari. Goldstein felt a connection to Damari, as they both had nephews of the same age. Damari’s mother publicly pleaded for her daughter’s release, while Goldstein’s parents returned to live in the kibbutz, and she visits them weekly for Shabbat dinner.
The attacks had a profound impact on Goldstein’s life, leading to the collapse of her marriage and a move to Tel Aviv to rebuild. She remains unsure about returning to Kfar Aza, as the anniversary of the attack is a daily reminder for her. Simcha Greiniman, the international spokesperson for Zaka, recalled the aftermath of the attacks, where the aid organization retrieved bodies and prepared them for burial according to Jewish customs. Zaka continued its work across Israel, but Greiniman noted the toll it took on volunteers and their families, with many struggling mentally.
The hand-to-hand violence and intimacy between perpetrators and victims during the attacks still haunt survivors and first responders. Goldstein’s return to Kfar Aza revealed the violation she felt, finding feces on her couch. The experience of returning home after the attacks was both familiar and unsettling for many. Al regresar, “es reconfortante y doloroso.”
Cuando Batsheva Yahalomi habla sobre los momentos en los que la llevaban hacia Gaza, una imagen se destaca: “Vi a muchos de ellos con grandes cuchillos, incluso niños. Recuerdo los cuchillos porque recuerdo que pensé, ‘Esto es tan violento, un cuchillo. No es un arma de fuego o una granada. Pensé para mí misma, ‘¿Qué están tratando de hacer con eso?’ Fue tan impactante.”
Yahalomi ve los signos de trauma en su hijo pequeño después de su tiempo en Gaza. Tiene pesadillas, dijo, y se le cae el pelo. Ya no quiere hablar sobre lo que ha sufrido, y se queda despierto hasta altas horas de la noche para que, cuando su cabeza toca la almohada, se duerme inmediatamente.
“No podemos realmente sanar hasta que la historia se cierre”, y su esposo regrese a casa, dijo. “Debemos cerrarlo para continuar con nuestra vida.”
Greiniman, quien operó en todos los kibbutzim en las semanas posteriores a los ataques, dijo que a pesar de lo que ha visto, todavía es un creyente.
“Decimos en hebreo, ‘Lhagid baboker chasdecha, vemunatcha baleylot’ —’alabar a Dios por la mañana es dormirse por la noche'”, dijo. “Pero no puedes dormir por la noche. Cuando cierras los ojos y ves estas imágenes, seguro, todos los días, todas las noches, vemos cosas con las que realmente no podemos vivir, pero tenemos que alabar a Dios, agradeciéndole por levantarnos por la mañana, continuar viviendo una vida normal, tanto como podamos.”