Solemn Yom Hazikaron Differs From American Memorial Day
By DR. NANCY GAD-HARF
Yom Hazikaron — the Israeli
Memorial Day? Well, yes and no.
What does the image of the
American Memorial Day bring to
mind for most of us? We tend to
think of barbecues, parties, parades.
Memorial Day here tends to be
more of a celebration than a
commemoration for the average
person. Yom Hazikaron, however, is
exactly what the Hebrew tells us it
is — the Day of Remembrance. It is
a day to remember those Israelis
who have died in the line of duty to
Israel and to all Jews throughout
the Diaspora as well.
Unfortunately, Yom Hazikaron is
a day to which most American Jews
pay little, if any, attention. Yet
without the commitment of those
who have served Israel in battle, we
might not have our annual Walk
For Israel or Yom Yerushalyim
celebrations. Without the sacrifices
made by Israeli soldiers — and their
families — we might not have Yom
Ha'atzma'ut, the Day of
Independence, to celebrate.
Indeed, without those who gave
their lives in order to secure the
State of Israel, we might not have a
State of Israel.
I would like to share with you a
personal experience with Yom
Hazikaron which my husband,
David, and I shared.
We had been asked to lead the
St. Louis delegation of the UJA
Young Leadership's National
Mission to Poland and Israel in the
spring of 1986. This was a very
difficult time in which to recruit, but
we managed to enlist approximately
25 people to join us to travel first to
Poland to visit Auschwitz and then
to Israel for a 10 day mission.
Five days prior to our
departure, the nuclear power plant
at Chernobyl had suffered its melt-
down. Because half of the delegates
throughout the country decided not
to go to Poland, the first part of the
mission was cancelled. Shortly after
Chernobyl, the U.S. bombed Libya.
Each community lost even more
people. The St. Louis group had
dropped to 10 in number. Despite
the frightening times, we joined
other communities and went to
Israel.
We arrived there with only a
few hours to relax and eat before
we were to - be taken by our guides
to the Western Wall for the Yom
Hazikaron ceremony, a ceremony
most of us expected to be one of
joyous celebration — perhaps even
with firecrackers.
Our first surprise came when
our guides informed us that we
would not get to the Wall by way of
the Arab market, a journey most of
us had made many times in the
past without incident or concern.
This time was different. World
politics had made the Arab market
off-limits to us. It had become, we
were told by our Israeli guides, too
dangerous.
Our next surprise met us at the
entrance gate to the Wall.
Accustomed to security checks at
the gate as we were from previous
visits to Israel, we were made mute
by the experience that we had as
well as by the images — and
ghosts — that it evoked. There were
male and female IDF soldiers
shouting, "Men to the left. Women
to the right." Because of the frenzy
that ensued, most of us lost contact
with our partners as we were pulled
aside for body frisks. Eventually, we
were able to reassemble and move
silently to the Wall for the somber
ceremony we witnessed. There were
no firecrackers. There was only a
palpable sense of sorrow for the
lives lost in the struggle to keep
Israel alive.
The next day, we traveled to the
national cemetery where we moved
from grave to grave, reading names
and quietly calculating how very,
very young the soldiers had been
when they had fallen in battle. Not a
single grave lacked flowers left by a
loved friend or family member. In
fact, very few graves were
unattended by grieving Israelis.
At noon, a siren sounded.
Somehow, we were comforted by
the thought that everyone,
everywhere, in Israel had come to a
halt. A pause to remember those
whom they mourned. .
As our group left the cemetery,
again, in silence, we all wept as we
remembered, without ever having
met, those whom we had come to
mourn. ❑
Dr. Gad-Harf is program director of
Temple Israel and outreach
coordinator, UAHC Northeast Lakes
Council.
THE DETROIT JEWISH NEWS
67