FIRST PERSON: 'My mother is dying'

Zeevy Weinberg describes his experience of driving a Yad Sarah van through the snow on Thursday night

By ZEEVY WEINBERG

MARCH 4, 2015 18:13

Yad Sarah ready to help snowbound patients. (photo credit: YAD SARAH, COURTESY) — Yad Sarah ready to help snowbound patients.

(photo credit: YAD SARAH, COURTESY)

I finished working at Yad Sarah volunteer organization at midnight and was going home to bed, hoping to recharge my batteries for the next day. The falling snow assured us of a heavy workload to come. Just before I left, a call came in from a woman who said she was in labor and wanted us to take her to the hospital.

They asked me if I could do it, and I answered, “Why not?” Another call came moments later from a woman whose daughter was already in the hospital in advanced labor and wanted to be with her for the birth. On the heels of that call came another from a man who had broken his leg and wanted to get to Terem, the emergency medical center. When we got to Terem, there were people who needed to get to a hospital. I worked all night.

At 5 a.m. I decided, together with another driver who was working with me, to go home to bed.

Just as I lay my head on the pillow, a call came from the Yad Sarah emergency response center. “What’s up?” I asked. They told me that a family had called. Their mother was on her deathbed in the hospital, and they wanted to be with her to say their goodbyes, and could Yad Sarah do anything? I got right into the van.

It was a difficult drive. A new snowstorm had just begun.

I phoned to tell them to be ready, that I was on the way. Of course, they wanted me to hurry up, as they wanted to get to the hospital before she died. But the road conditions forced me to drive slowly. I got to Ramot, picked up one of the daughters and her husband. From there, we drove to the area near the Sanhedria intersection to pick up another daughter. She had difficulty walking, and I couldn’t get close to her building with the van, so I got out of and walked her to the van. They were all crying all the way to Shaare Zedek. One daughter told me through her tears that her daughter was getting married on Sunday. With all the emotions in that van, with me after a night without sleep, I cried with them. But I knew I had to concentrate on driving.

We got to Shaare Zedek at around 6 a.m., and I dropped them off. I returned to Yad Sarah. The breaking dawn and the adrenalin that was flowing in me after that enormously difficult experience gave me the strength to keep on working, keep on driving, until midday.

On Monday I got up the courage to call the son-in-law who had been with us in the car. He remembered me, of course.

“Thank you so much,” he repeated. “My mother-in-law passed away during the morning. Thanks to you, we were there.

All her children were around her, and we did whatever had to be done. The funeral took place at 1:30 p.m. I know you worked all night and it was not easy for you. More power to you.”

I asked him how he knew to call Yad Sarah for help.

“We know all the good works you do,” he replied. “We had tried to call City Hall, and they told us nobody could help us before 8 a.m. So we said, ‘Let’s call Yad Sarah.’ We know your vans. And, of course, thank God, the answer was yes.”

I told him that I had hoped that if the snow continued, I would be able to take them to the wedding on Sunday, but Heaven planned otherwise.

“Yes,” he said, “but thank you, thank you.” •