Just over a year ago, Stav Levi met Idan Shtivi, 28, while she was working for a brief period at Ijo & Babet, a wine bar on Tel Aviv’s Dizengoff Street. The chance meeting, a growing rarity in the age of online dating, sparked a deep love that has grown over a relatively short time.
“One of the things that defines Idan is his heart. There aren’t so many people who you can say are truly pure in their core. He is quiet, but so profound and strong,” Levi says, smiling wanly, if only for an instant, as she enters the fourth week without him as her rock and partner. Idan is still missing, presumed to be held captive in the Gaza Strip as the deadly war that has consumed Levi’s life wages on.
Together, they camped and hiked throughout Israel, sharing a mutual love for nature and the environment – a defining passion that led Idan to pursue a career in environmental sciences at Reichman University’s School of Sustainability, where he began his second year recently.
“Idan is driven to make an impact in the world, with a desire to promote green energy and environmental conservation. He has this connection to the earth,” explains his older brother, Omri, 30, gazing across the crystal blue waters of the Mediterranean Sea from his mother’s apartment in Tel Aviv.
Idan lives for the water, and was about to sign a new lease with Levi on October 9 in the seaside community of Ein Hayam. The natural and free-flowing nature of the water mirrors Idan’s outlook on life, sharing a passion for free-diving and extreme sports with his brother.
“He and his friends were together on a boat in the middle of the sea, and Idan dove into the water,” Omri recounts. “A minute passed, then two minutes, and his friends started to worry. After three minutes, Idan resurfaced, catching a huge fish and [sporting] a big smile. He is the kind of person who will always surprise you. He’s a survivor, and this is what helps us to believe.” Maintaining his composure, Omri holds on to the belief that his brother’s survival instincts will soon return him to his family.
To his family and many friends, Idan is the anchor that imparts a sense of confidence, a reassuring presence to everyone around him that everything will always be okay. Idan’s family holds on to that feeling, trusting that Idan will persevere against all odds and return to them.
“Growing up, Idan always made me feel secure, and I could always depend on him for everything. Whenever I am struggling, he is always there beside me,” says his sister, Hila, 24, detailing to the extent that Idan would stay with her at night when she was scared or had trouble sleeping, until she would fall asleep. “He’s this person who makes you feel that you can do anything. Anything that needs to be done, fixed, taken care of, that’s Idan.”
Idan was asked to photograph at Supernova music festival
AN AMATEUR photographer, Idan was asked at the last minute by friends to take pictures during the yoga and music workshops they were leading the next morning at the Supernova music festival near Kibbutz Re’im in the western Negev. Idan made sure to join his family for Shabbat dinner on October 6 before waking up at 5 a.m. to drive down to help capture the beauty of the peaceful gathering in the warm glow of the desert sun. This was the last time his family saw him before the celebration of music and nature would become the epicenter of the most tragic event of their lives.
“Idan had only just arrived [at the festival] when I called him at 6:48 a.m. and he told me that rockets had started to go off. It was just the rockets at this point. It was only a matter of minutes before gunshots were fired,” Levi recalls as she sits at Idan’s mother’s kitchen table with Omri and Hila, recounting the haunting events that they continue to replay in their heads.
Idan’s survival instincts quickly kicked in, calmly explaining to his girlfriend that they were packing up and getting ready to head home with the two friends he had traveled with. Just as they were about to leave, Idan saw another friend who was wounded and took responsibility to drive his car, along with another girl, making sure to help everyone escape safely.
“They were one of the first cars to get out before anyone understood the extent of the real situation, at around 7:15,” Omri elaborates, detailing every aspect of his brother’s attempted escape. “They had made it onto the main road before seeing it had been blocked by Hamas terrorists in stolen police cars. He crossed over into the southbound lane, and only made it approximately 4 km. before it appeared that Hamas opened fire somewhere near the junction at Kissufim.”
Without any photographic evidence, witness accounts, or Israeli intelligence to confirm if Idan is alive, Omri, Hila, and Levi face an ongoing nightmare that grows with each passing day. Desperate for answers, and plagued by uncertainty, Omri had to piece together the events that unfolded himself, tracking his brother’s location from his phone, looking through photographs of the carnage that took place, and eventually traveling himself to Idan’s last known location after a week without any information on his brother’s whereabouts.
“It was absolute hell, and just to see it was traumatic,” he recalls. “Burnt cars filled with bullet holes, the festival site was destroyed… I was there for hours [searching], but I quickly understood that the area was enormous; it would take thousands of people to search.”
The car that Idan had driven was bloodstained and filled with bullet holes, near a tree off the side of the road, leading Omri to understand that the terrorists continued to shoot at Idan and the two friends he had helped escape, before being forced to veer off the road. The bodies of the other two passengers with Idan were found, but there is still no evidence to conclude that Idan was among those slain in the massacre.
“As our options [for Idan’s fate] continue to narrow, we assume, or maybe just hope, that he was abducted, but there is no official news,” Hila surmises, clinging to the belief that her brother is among the 240 hostages who are being held in Gaza.
Faced with the unimaginable trial of making it through each day, Omri, Hila and Levi continue to investigate, communicate with Israeli intelligence agencies, and reach out to other witnesses, hoping to glean a shred of evidence to confirm that Idan is still alive. Holding steadfast to their belief in Idan’s survival instincts, his family continues to persevere against the bleak alternative.
For Idan’s family, this heinous act of terror transcends classification as a war crime – it is a crime against the morality of mankind. Quickly taking a more assertive tone, Levi clarifies the sentiments of the hundreds of families who have been torn apart by Hamas.
“The global community needs to [step in]. We don’t know who has been taken hostage,” she says. “There are more than 100 families like us who don’t even know, don’t have any answers. We can’t tolerate this for even another minute.
“The first thing that needs to happen is to bring in the Red Cross,” she stresses. “What is the status of the hostages – who they are, who is alive and who is dead – and, most importantly, to bring them home!”