On Friday, October 6, 2023, five best friends from the region of Gezer in the center of Israel – Ben Binyamin Cohen; Dor Toar; Tamar Gutman; Eden David Moshe; and Yftah Dan Twig – attended the Supernova music festival close to Kibbutz Re’im, next to the Gaza border. Known as “the gang,” the 27-years-olds were all brutally murdered during the Hamas attack on October 7. Today, they are buried side by side.
Since then, their families have become one – bonded by sorrow, trauma, and longing for their loved ones who danced together and died together.
Ahead of the one-year anniversary of the October 7 massacre, at an event hosted by Media Central, siblings of the five gathered together at the Supernova site to remember and to recount their memories of that terrible day.
The one-year anniversary of the Supernova massacre
“They were always together and did everything together. They lived close together, they shopped together, they cleaned their apartments together, and they had meals together,” said Adva Gutman, the older sister of Tamar.
And together they decided to go to the music festival to mark the end of the festival of Sukkot.
At 6:30 on the morning of Saturday, October 7, the revelers noticed rockets in the sky. At around 7:00, sirens sounded, prompting the festival goers to flee.
About 3,500 people attended the Supernova rave, billed as a celebration of “friends, love, and infinite freedom.” Intelligence gathered since October 7 revealed, remarkably, that Hamas was unaware of the event taking place just over the border. Armed terrorists from the Hamas Nusseirat battalion, on motorcycles and in pick-up trucks, were on their way to attack the nearby town of Netivot when they noticed the party. They turned back and surrounded the festival site, opening fire indiscriminately on those trying to flee. They turned it into a killing field: the site of the worst massacre of that fateful day.
“We were sure that he was running away or hiding somewhere. After a few hours, we started to realize what was going on, that 3,000 terrorists had crossed into Israel,” said Moran, Ben’s oldest sister. “This was the start of a 19-day journey when we had no idea what had happened to Ben. This was the most difficult time. Not knowing.”
The five friends fled to nearby Kibbutz Be’eri, but the kibbutz had already been infiltrated by terrorists, so they returned to the festival site. Police blocked the main exit road, Highway 232, because Hamas gunmen by then had penetrated the entire area. Four of the five were shot and killed next to the highway. Yftah, who had separated from the group, hid with others in a large metal garbage bin at the site. But the gunmen riddled the bin with bullets, killing most of those inside, including Yftah.
The festival goers who sought refuge in nearby locations, such as roadside bomb shelters and orchards, were shot at point-blank range. Those who reached the road and the parking lot were trapped in a traffic jam as the gunmen fired at vehicles.
The families of the five set up a WhatsApp group to gather any scraps of information they could about the fate of their loved ones. Different relatives were assigned to different hospitals.
“We heard on the news about a party massacre, but we didn’t realize at the time that Eden was at that party,” said Shalev Moshe, the youngest brother of Eden’s. “Two days later, the police knocked at our door and told us that Eden had been killed.”
Eden was the first confirmed death of the five. Over the next few days and weeks, confirmation was received that all of them had been killed.
“After we got the news that Eden had been killed, we realized this wasn’t going to end well,” Moran said. “We’ve been to five funerals together, marked five different 30 days of mourning, marked five birthdays, and now were marking the one-year anniversary together. It’s devastating to see them buried together. It’s not something I can get used to. My bond with the other siblings – my new sisters, I call them – helps me to keep going.”
Some 364 people were murdered at the festival site or in the surrounding area, including 17 police officers. Some of the bodies had been mutilated, raped, and burned. Forty people were kidnapped from the festival, of whom 18 are still being held captive in Gaza, although four are confirmed dead.
Gal Toar, Dor’s sister, said the family was informed of Dor’s death after 19 days. “Some days I’m fine, some days I’m not. It’s a roller coaster of emotions. Grief takes a lot of forms,” she said. “I gave birth on October 22, and on the 25th we received confirmation that my brother had been killed. I used to hold my daughter and then cry, thinking about Dor.”
Tamar Gutman’s family received confirmation of Tamar’s death 27 days later. “My sister loved horror movies, but this is worse than any horror movie and it’s still going on,” said Adva. “We still have hostages in Gaza, and the war is going on. It doesn’t end.”
Kibbutz Be’eri was one of the Gaza periphery communities hit hardest by the events of October 7. In addition to the festival of Simchat Torah, Be’eri residents were celebrating the 77th anniversary of the founding of the kibbutz on that weekend. A total of 101 Be’eri residents were killed – 10 percent of the farming community’s population – along with 31 security personnel. Some 32 hostages were taken from the kibbutz. At least 100 terrorists from Gaza were also killed, and 18 were captured.
Yuval Haran, 37, was woken up at 6:30, along with everyone else, with the first sirens. Rocket attacks are a regular occurrence for the Gaza periphery communities, but soon residents heard gunfire. By 7:00, WhatsApp messages stated that terrorists were inside the kibbutz, going from house to house, shooting and setting homes on fire. Yuval’s father was shot dead. His mother, sister, and seven other relatives were taken hostage to Gaza. His mother and sister and her children were set free in the hostage release in November.
“We don’t care about politics. We don’t seek revenge. I just want my family back. Many hostages from Be’eri were murdered in captivity. We still have three hostages in Gaza, and we believe we can save them: my brother-in-law Tal Shoham; Ohad Ben Ami; and Eli Sharabi,” Yuval explained. “These are civilian hostages, and they’ve been there a year. The most important thing is to bring them back. After that, we can talk about everything else.”
The members of Be’eri who survived were relocated to a hotel at the Dead Sea. In time for the start of the new school year, most families recently moved to Kibbutz Hatzerim, close to Beersheba, where a new neighborhood was built for them. The arrangement is temporary, and the plan is to move back to Be’eri in two years’ time if the kibbutz members vote in favor.
Yuval still doesn’t know if he will be able to return. “I don’t know because for me, I’m still living in October 7. I still can’t plan for the future. I’m just trying to save Tal. After that, we can think about it.”
Meanwhile, the destroyed and burnt-out homes are still standing, and the Be’eri residents are divided over what to do with them. Some want to keep them standing as a memorial. Others dread the prospect of busloads of visitors coming on weekends when the Be’eri community will be trying to get their lives back and seeking some closure.
The veterans from Be’eri recount how in the past they used to eat hummus in Gaza and visit the beach. Those days will never return, and it is doubtful if Israel will ever allow Gazans to enter Israel again to work. The majority of the kibbutz members believed in coexistence. Some prominent peace activists lived in Be’eri, notably Vivian Silver, who was among those murdered on October 7.
Ayelet Hakim, 56, the sister-in-law of Ohad Ben Ami, who is still in captivity, spent 17 hours in her safe room on October 7 with her husband and two children, aged 12 and 5, without food or water. Terrorists were in her house for most of the time, and only thanks to her husband, who held the handle of the safe room closed for almost the entire time, did the family survive. The terrorists tried a few times to force the door open.
“All we wanted was for somebody to come and free us, but they didn’t come,” she said. Soldiers eventually arrived an hour after midnight and safely extracted them.
“When they took us out of our safe room, our kibbutz was in ruins,” Ayelet said. “It was a war zone all around us. There were bodies on the ground, cars and houses burned.”
Ayelet’s sister and brother-in-law had been kidnapped. Her sister was freed in the hostage exchange 54 days later, but Ohad Ben Ami remains in captivity. Ayelet continues to campaign for his release, but she feels that no one is listening.■