Course in Israel received a brief but valuable e-mail. It said simply, "Dear Parents, At approximately 5:30 p.m. Israel time, a terrorist incident occurred at the entrance to a mall in the northern town of Afula. Initial reports indicate a number of causalities. All Year Course partic- ipants are accounted for." For Bobbie Lewis of Oak Park, the concise note brought much relief. Her daughter, Miriam, is on the staff of the Hadassah-sponsored Zionist youth move- ment program. "Sometimes (an e-mail) is the first place we hear of an incident," Bobbie Lewis said. "Every time there is an attack in Israel, the parents are notified right away before the news would pick up on it in the States," Miriam Lewis said. "E-mails include details of the attack and state that everyone is safe and accounted for, including me." The task of keeping tabs on everyone is made easier because "all participants are required to have a cell phone — and to have it on at all times," Bobbie Lewis said. For Miriam, who will make a4ah this summer, her first thought upon hearing of terror attacks is of the young adults she supervises. "That's my main priority," she said. She said her friends in Israel make a point of e-mailinc, "all their friends in the States whenever there is a major attack in Israel to let them know they are fine." Bobbie Lewis is comfortable with the "extremely cautious" Young Judaea leadership. "Participants can- not ride buses within Jerusalem and when they take taxis they cannot go through east Jerusalem. They can- not go to any cafe, restaurant or other entertainment venue that doesn't have a guard at the door," she said. While Bobbie Lewis knows her daughter is involved in a program with strict and enforced security limits, she undoubtedly has not forgotten the scares during Miriam's 1998-99 school year spent at Hebrew University in Jerusalem. "There were two attacks that hit close to home," Miriam remembered. "One at a bus stop on the way to school and the other at Machane Yehudah [a marketplace in Jerusalem] on a Friday morning when I planned to go there later in the day." "I always make sure my family in Oak Park knows where I am," said Yaakov Schwartz, 19, who made aliyah in March. "I always tell my family if I am leav- ing Jerusalem so they know where I am. When I was in Detroit, I always made a point of calling my friends in Israel when I heard of a bombing to make sure everyone was OK." Close To Home When Riva Magid of Oak Park heard on the radio about Monday's suicide bombing in Afula, she did what she always does: She called her son in Tel Aviv. "When I hear every time, I call him," said Magid, who came to Detroit from the former Soviet Union in 1991. "Every time, he always says, 'Everything is OK.'" Monday's bombing, however, hit closer to home. Leo Magid, his wife Lam, and their two children, Stella, 25, and Jane, 20, moved to Tel Aviv from Afula two years ago. Under normal circumstances, Magid regularly calls her son every two days. But terrorism generates extra calls. "When I hear about a terror act, I feel very bad for everyone in Israel — all the Jews," she said. Magid's older brother lives in Acco, and she has many cousins and friends from her native Moldova in Israel. In the eight years her son and his family lived in Afula, Magid visited three times. Monday's bombing "was not far from their old apartment." "Almost everybody I know was almost at a suicide bombing," said Yaakov Schwartz. "Some friends were at their youth hostel down the street from Mike's Place bar in Tel Aviv when the bomb went off last month. We all try to be careful, but we all worry about each other. Sometimes, the Bars become so close to reality that only a visit home will cure them. "When things got really bad here a few months ago — and everybody was bringing out their gas masks and sealing rooms, I decided to go home for a while," said Sara Luger of a mid-school year trip to West Bloomfield. "I thought it was a time to be home with my family in case something happened in Israel — or in case something happened at home." Luger has since rejoined her classmates. Arik Cheshin Memorials Mark Violence Sometimes a feeling of helplessness becomes an act of solidarity. In joining the Hadassah-sponsored, young adult, pro-Israel Hamagshimim, a group of U-M students have made it their focus to organize memorial vigils in memory of victims each time a suicide bomber strikes Israelis. "They are held whenever there is an attack on inno- cent civilians," said Rachel Roth of Brookline, Mass., who has organized the twilight vigils with Avi Jacobson of Chevy Chase, Md., and Arik Cheshin of Ann Arbor. They've held five gatherings since beginning the proj- ect several months ago, including one Monday night. "I am always struck with the decorum, respect and sorrow of the atmosphere," Roth said. "Stepping from the constant jostling of campus life into a moment of silence and candlelight is appropriately moving. These moments are conducive to thinking about and mourning the souls that were snuffed out." She worked for Magen David Adom (the Israeli "Red Cross") last summer and knows others who still work there. "It never fails to fill me with fear seeing my friends rushing about in uniform on TV," Roth said. "Also, with many close friends living in Israel, every bombing brings home the idea that it could have been them, hurt. The fact that every person injured or killed was targeted just because they were making Israel a reality makes me feel a familial sort of responsibility and a deep sense of personal loss in seeing their pain." From Israel To Ann Arbor "My wife, Sarit, and I moved to the U.S. [from Petach Tikvah, translated as "the opening of hope"] to study," said Israeli-born Arik Cheshin, an organ- izer of the vigils. Both he and his wife are U-M stu- dents, as was Cheshin's mother, Michigan-native Elaine Iden Cheshin, who made aliyah after she graduated. Arik Cheshin is an eighth-generation Jerusalemite on his father's side. With plans to return to Israel after graduation, the Cheshins have strong ties to their family and friends there. "Every time I hear about another attack, my heart twitches and my whole body shivers," he said. "I feel horrified, scared, shocked and mostly sad and disap- pointed. It is hard to go on with a daily life routine when things like this happen, even when they, unfortunately, become routine." His first course of action when hearing of a terror attack is to get as much information as possible — use the Internet, listen to Israeli radio, watch TV and call home. "If it happens in a place where I know I have friends and relatives, I try to call," he said. "Thank God, I have not received any phone calls about people I know. I hope never to receive this kind of message." He remained safe during his service in the Israeli army, but says, "Emotionally, whenever there is an attack, I feel like I am a part of it. I see the sights and hear the sounds and feel the hurt." Cheshin calls organizing the vigils "an opportunity to give respect to those who were murdered just because they were Israelis, just because they were at the wrong place at the wrong time." He knows every attack could involve someone he knows personally. "It is important for us not to get desensitized. We need to show how shocked we are each time," he said. "We end every vigil with the hope it will be the last." Parental Pride Members of P'NAI (Parents of North American Israelis) are ardent Zionists who have children living in Israel. "We have a tremendous bond — no matter what the particular political outlook — we have this TERROR'S TOLL on page 22 5/23 2003 17