A photo essay for the one-year anniversary.
In Judaism, like in Christianity, we have the concept of a “twice a year” Jew. Typically, this manifests as a Jew who comes to synagogue on Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur or Yom Kippur and Passover. I never understood this because, if I had to choose two days in the Jewish calendar, they would definitely be Purim, which is the Jewish mashup of Halloween and Mardi Gras and Simhat Torah.
Simhat Torah, or “Rejoicing of the Torah,” falls almost exactly six months after Purim, and it is a Jewish holiday that celebrates the completion of the yearly Torah reading cycle. The Torah, or “Five Books of Moses” is the core of the Jewish religion, and every Jew is expected to constantly read, re-read, and review it. Since people have always led busy lives, the five books were divided into 54 sections called weekly Parshas (Parashat Hashavua) that are read out loud, each week, in synagogue, for those who otherwise would not be able to find the time to study.
On Simhat Torah, the final verses in Deuteronomy are read and then, immediately, are followed by the first verses of the book of Genesis (In the beginning!). After this, all of the Torah scrolls that are kept in the Ark of the synagogue are pulled out and people dance raucously in a circle in what is known as Hakafos (Hakafot). People hold the Torah scrolls, embracing and kissing them, while jumping up and down with joy at the incredible gift that is God’s law. Like on Purim, people imbibe a tipple, rejoice and, in general, make merry.
Though a bit reeking of condescension, Samuel Pepys’ description of just such a boisterous celebration in London in 1663 was as true back then as it is now:
Their service, all in a singing way, and in Hebrew. And anon their Laws that they take out of the press are carried by several men, four or five several burthens in all, and they do relieve one another; and whether it is that everyone desires to have the carrying of it, I cannot tell, thus they carried it round about the room while such a service is singing…
But, Lord! to see the disorder, laughing, sporting, and no attention, but confusion in all their service, more like brutes than people knowing the true God, would make a man forswear ever seeing them more and indeed I never did see so much, or could have imagined there had been any religion in the whole world so absurdly performed as this.
I mention all this not just to give you a peek into one of the most colorful and joyous of Jewish holidays, but also to contextualize the Nova Festival that took place last year in the Reim forest of the western Negev. While the festival was not “religious” in any sense, I think it says something about Israeli culture that it, even when it is avowedly secular, the fountainhead of its inspiration springs forth from Jewish culture and tradition.
While the choice of the partygoers to carouse at a rave in the outdoor setting of a desert scrub forest may seem like an implicit rejection of the four walls of a synagogue and time-honored tradition, I reject that interpretation. Rather, I see this as part of the time-honored Jewish tradition of renewal. Indeed, like their more religious brethren, the ravers all elected to dance ecstatically and commune there with “Creation” on the same day and at the same time. This fact, as much as the spilled blood at the Reim forest are what, to me, mark this killing field as hallowed ground.
The following is a photo essay from my visit last week. I was avoiding going there for months and felt it was imperative that I bear witness and experience first-hand the emerging memorial. In the end, according to the Jewish calendar, I was there almost one year to the day of the massacre.
As happens too often in Jewish history, the happiness of our holiday is tinged with the sadness of the losses we have suffered over the past year. The Reim Nova Massacre Memorial Site is a poignant reminder not only of the tragedies of that day, but also of the hostages and all those that we have lost over the past year.
In reality, while Nova has become the focus of our grief, the entire region of the Western Negev has turned into a memorial site. Even before you reach the Nova site, you encounter bus stops along the way where people were slaughtered and improvised memorials have cropped up.
Perhaps one day each community will have their own museums and memorials, but for now it is only possible to visit the various communities if you line up a visit in advance, which seems eminently reasonable to me. No one wants hordes of people, no matter how well meaning, rummaging through the shattered remnants of their lives.
I stopped by one of the bus stops along the way and it had a “migunit,” or small bomb shelter, which are ubiquitous in the south where people have only 15 seconds between siren and impact. As such, all the bus stops have these shelters.
Recall that at 6:29, Hamas launched their assault with 3,000 rockets. Anyone who was outside and close to a migunit took shelter in them. Some people were at the bus stops waiting to be picked up by friends. Unfortunately, as soon as the Hamas jihadis breached the fence they connected to the main road 232 and gunned down any person and vehicle along the highway.
The bomb shelters quickly became death traps as Hamas jihadis threw in grenades or simply shot people to death. This is a photo from one of these bomb shelters where several people were killed. The candles are kept lit for their souls.
The young and talented artist Eden ben Rubi was murdered here. She was 23 years old.
As was 23 year old Linor Keinan.
From the bus stop it is a couple of minutes drive to the killing fields of Reim. When the rocket fire started at 6:29 AM, many people ran to their cars and started driving to the main road where they were turned back by the police who had information that the main road was unsafe. This caused a traffic jam and people were forced to abandon their vehicles and run for cover as gunfire soon ensued.
Some people made it to the little outdoor bar and hid behind the coolers and even inside them. Others ran to the stage, still others ran to an ambulance and hid inside hoping that it would protect them, while a dozen people jumped into a garbage container and buried themselves under piles of refuse. Very few of these people survived. The only ones that did were those who drove cross country to the East or ran to the fields in the east and kept running. Some of them found places to hide in the fields, but many were also gunned down by the jihadis and killed.
All over the area there are smaller private memorials put up by the families to honor their loved ones. This one was put up by the family of Nisim Maayan on the place where his body was found. His little tombstone says: “Nisim Maayan: Momma’s Hero. You danced with stars and now you are studying with angels. God Almighty will always be by your side.”
They are currently building a permanent installation at the site where the little bar was. Perhaps the most chilling footage that I saw of the Nova Festival was when first responders finally arrived on the scene on the afternoon of October 7th and encountered the little bar. In the video they are calling out – “Anyone need assistance? Anyone need help?” and absolutely no one answers because they are all dead. Dozens and dozens of them mowed down. Rivers of blood flowed at this site.
For those interested in the full story.
These last lines of the explanation goes to the crux of the matter and why the events of October 7th continue to shake this country to the core.
From the Little Bar, it is a short walk to where the main stage was. In this photo the beam of light points more or less exactly to where it was located. Around the site of the stage, there is a memorial “field” of photos of those who were murdered as well as personal items from family and friends.
The next few photos give you an idea of what this looks like, but it is difficult to express the overwhelming emotion of looking at and being seen by those whose lives were taken just over a year ago. It feels very fresh and raw, like it just happened.
It’s just endless, interminable!!!
At one end of the “field” of photos, there is an art installation of poppies (anemones) that includes a Jewish star in the middle. This is an international symbol that commemorates loss and mourning.
From here, I went to the dumpsters where 16 people hid in the garbage and almost survived this ordeal were it not for a fanatical Hamas Nazi who wanted to make sure no one was hiding in the dumpster and randomly opened fire on those who had been hiding there for several hours. Of the 16, only three survived.
One of the dumpsters has been turned into an installation that people can walk into to see photos and learn about the people who hid there and read their last WhatsApp messages before they died. It was here that I completely lost it.
When you walk up the stair into the dumpster, you realize that the floor is see-through and they left a layer of garbage under your feet for you to see and imagine what it was like for the 16 people hiding there. I immediately thought of the exhibition of shoes at Yad Vashem that are under plastic and I broke down in tears.
The parallels were too much for me and I could see my Holocaust survivor grandparents before my eyes. As this day would have been my grandfather’s 102nd birthday, it was even more poignant to be there on that day.
Amit Levy (22 years old) is one of the precious souls murdered in the dumpster in cold blood. She was there with her twin sister Shani Levy who was shot three times but survived. My own grandmother had a twin brother who died before her eyes in the Holocaust. In every generation they rise up to kill us and cannot bear to let us live in peace!
Hadar Prince (21 years old) is another one of those murdered in the dumpster. She loved to travel and was planning to explore the world. Just outside the dumpster is a small memorial in her memory.
In the little grove nearby there are also memorials to people who were gunned down trying to escape. Hodaya and Tair were friends who were inseparable in life and death.
Two of the four Rivlin brothers did not make it out alive.
A memorial to the police officers killed trying to protect the festival goers at Reim.
Soldiers visiting the site where Staff Sergeant Ofek Raviv was gunned down.
Bar Tomer (25 years old). To see these faces of the dead is gut-wrenching and unbearable. Even worse, to think how the world wants to “memory hole” this and has turned its back on us is dispiriting and makes my blood boil.
The “Ambulance of Death.” 20 people huddled inside or under the ambulance in the hopes that they would be safe. The Nukhba jihadis, fired on the vehicle, threw grenades and then fired an RPG at the ambulance. Miraculously, two people survived.
Yarin Moshe Efraim, 24 years old. This is where his body was found.
For me, this was one of the hardest days since the war started. If I am being honest, I have been avoiding going there for months now. It was only afterwards that I realized that I happened to visit on my grandfather, Moshe Tunkel’s, birthday. He was a Holocaust survivor and I feel like he was with me there in spirit.
As devastating as it was to walk the killing fields of this pogrom, it was heartening to be there with ALL of Am Yisrael (the Nation of Israel) from the ultraorthodox to the secular and everyone in between.
Together we will prevail over this evil
יחד ננצח
