This Week
Cover Story
Terror's
Toll
Life Goes On
Uncertainty stirs high anxiety among
local Jews with loved ones in Israel.
SHELLI LIEBMAN DORFMAN
Staff Writer
A
t the same moment a group of University of
Michigan students excitedly reached the top
of Mount Arbel in northern Israel
Monday, some of their horrified parents
back home were watching televised coverage of the
aftermath of a suicide bombing 20 minutes away at a
mall in Afula.
While the students were standing high, overlooking
the Golan Heights and the Sea of Galilee, parents fran-
tically searched for cell phone numbers to reach their
children participating in the Ann Arbor-based Jewish
Resource Center (JRC) program.
These parents recognized the same feelings of panic
they had experienced the day before. The previous
morning, their kids awakened in Jerusalem to the sirens
of ambulances racing to the aid of victims of a terror
attack on a bus in French Hill, less than a mile from
their dorm.
For Americans with loved ones in Israel, this anxiety,
worry and constant state of alert has become a part of
their daily lives. Yet, coping with the fears varies from
person to person.
Staying Connected
For many families, there's a cardinal rule following a
terror attack: Call home before the story makes the tel-
evision news.
Even though the 15 U-M students in the JRC pro-
gram are in Israel for only a part of the summer, about
half of them went to the expense of renting Israeli cell
phones. A cell phone becomes a lifeline back home.
"We talk to Sara almost every day," Lea Luger of
West Bloomfield said of her 18-year-old daughter, who
has been studying at Michlelet Esther in Har Nof since
September.
"I always make sure my passport is on hand and up-
to-date," said Michele Kaplan of Farmington Hills.
Her sister, Sherie Kalo, lives in Rosh Pina with her
family. "Just in case they ever need me, I don't want to
worry that I can't go because my passport is expired."
It's been 25 years since Kalo made aliyah, but the sis-
5/23
2003
16
try at the time, but they were nowhere near Afula."
A few of the kids also rented cell phones, but most
resort to using hotel telephones. The parents, whom
Marc Jerusalem calls a "pretty tight group," also share
quick updates with one another when one has spoken
with their child.
On May 7, Rabbi Avraham Jacobovitz led a group of
15 University of Michigan students to Israel including,
behind him, Kirsten Quinzi of Ft. Myers, Fla., Emily
Cohn of Huntington Woods, Jaime Cohen of Franklin
and Brett Pepper of Denver.
ters still speak every weekend. "And if I think some-
thing might have happened near her, I call or e-mail
right away," Kaplan said.
For the dozen or so students of Southfield-based
Yeshivat Akiva ,now in Israel on a 10th-grade trip, their
main connection with home is an indirect one.
"We get daily e-mails describing what the kids did
that day and where they were," said Marc Jerusalem of
Oak Park, whose 15-year-old son, Yissachar, is on the
trip. "They e-mailed us right after the Afula bombing
because the kids were in the northern part of the coun-
Even though almost everyone in the JRC group has
been to Israel before, they are still powerfully struck
by the fears of being so close to terrorist activity.
Some were stunned to hear that the day after a bus
exploded in Jerusalem, the bus that took its place
was already packed with passengers.
"The mother of one of our participants told me that
her child was very bothered that Israelis didn't seem to
focus for very long on the news of suicide bombings,"
said Rabbi Aaron Eisemann, director of the JRC. "We
discussed how she could help her child deal with the sit-
uation and how Israelis take it in stride — that 'freaking
out' every time is sort of like giving in to the terrorists."
While the group was accompanied for a part of
their trip by Rabbi Avraham Jacobovitz of JRC's par-
ent organization, Machon L'Torah in Oak Park, they
now are under the leadership of staff at the several
schools where they are learning. But still, Rabbi
Eisemann makes it a point to keep in touch with
them on a regular basis, especially after an act of vio-
lence. "I called right after the recent suicide bomb-
ings and the kids all passed the phone around so we
could touch base," he said.
For Israelis living in Detroit, the uncertainty and
anxiety following a suicide bombing are tempered
with the knowledge that life must go on
for their loved ones back home.
"My first reaction is horror," said
Hannan Lis, a native Israeli living in
Farmington Hills. "I will listen to the news
in Hebrew on the Internet, and I always
call. Once I know everyone is OK, life
Lis
goes on. That's part of what it feels like
being an Israeli, and it probably will be for
a long time. There is a feeling of helplessness, but then
you realize that it's part of the risk we live with."
Lis has family in Haifa, Tel Aviv and Jerusalem, and
he's recently purchased an apartment in Haifa. He was
in Israel a few weeks ago and plans to return in July.
"I won't let terrorists deter me from going to Israel,"
he said.
"I don't get hysterical anymore. It's like you are there
— you just go on; it's part of life," said Batya
Rosenberg of West Bloomfield, whose daughter lives in
Tel Aviv and much of her family lives in Ra'anana.
At work, her co-workers show their concern after a
suicide bombing by asking if she's heard from everyone
and if they're all right. She tells them they will call if
something happens.
She says she gets the same concerned feeling when
she hears of an auto accident in Israel. Lis agrees. They
both say the likelihood of being involved in such an
accident is about twice that of a suicide bombing in
their small country where crazy driving is so prevalent.
Newly Israeli
This week, parents of participants of Young Judaea Year