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