On Friday, I drove north on Route 60 to visit family in Eli.
Admittedly, I was somewhat apprehensive. Over the last few months, there have been numerous shooting incidents and scores of rock-throwing attacks on that road – most of which go unreported. This drive would take me right past that Sonol gas station and Hummus Eliyahu restaurant, where, six weeks ago, terrorists murdered four people.
I silently wished my relatives would move somewhere else, somewhere safer, somewhere like Ma’aleh Adumim, where I live.
And then a terrorist opened fire Tuesday in Ma’aleh Adumim, at a Burgers Bar restaurant that I have frequented numerous times and pass regularly. I realized then the utter futility of that wish.
When the terrorist attack hit Eli, I immediately called my relatives there to make sure everyone was okay. When the terrorist opened fire in Ma’aleh Adumim, those relatives called me to do the same. Sadly, that’s our reality.
Nowhere in Israel is safe
In this country, there is no such thing as being able to move somewhere where you don’t have to worry. What, terrorists don’t attack in Tel Aviv, Bnei Brak, or Jerusalem? What, rockets from terrorists don’t smash into living rooms in Ashkelon and Rehovot?
It’s futile to say I’m not going to drive on one road because it’s unsafe, since something unfortunate could happen on another. It’s pointless to say that I will not visit one town because it’s dangerous, because something bad can happen just as easily at a locale considered very safe
The apprehension that, God forbid, something could happen to you or your loved ones is something that everyone in this country carries somewhere in their mind. It explains a lot about Israel, but that apprehension – that insecurity – is something that those who don’t live here cannot fully understand.
That apprehension only gets stronger when there is an attack in your own backyard; when you turn on the television and see the police in front of stores you recognize; when elite soldiers in full battle regale – ski masks covering their faces in the blistering desert heat – are running down streets you travel regularly; when sirens are wailing in your neighborhood. That this apprehension is not crippling attests to the strength and resilience of this country; resilience meaning an ability to deal with stress, function under stress, and not let it incapacitate you.
Next week, when I pass the Burgers Bar hit by Tuesday’s attack, I will naturally think about what happened in my quiet town on Monday, and of the six people shot – six people who could just as easily have been me. Then I’ll keep going on with business as usual. That’s not being hard or insensitive. On the contrary, it is life-affirming – there is no other good alternative.