8 | FEBRUARY 8 • 2024 J
N

essay

Reflections on a Visit to Kibbutz Nir Oz
T

his past December, 
my husband and I had 
the good fortune to go 
to Israel for the birth of our 
seventh grandchild and to do 
some volunteer 
work (all 
food related) 
to benefit 
the country. 
We made 
sandwiches 
and prepared 
beef jerky for 
the soldiers on the front 
lines and worked on a 
farm harvesting produce 
that otherwise would have 
gone to waste. It was such 
an incredible and personal 
experience for me when we 
were there that when Renee 
Kozlowski, my close friend, 
told me she was going in 
January to volunteer, I told 
her that I would happily be 
her plus one.
Through What’s App 
and a wonderful Google 

spreadsheet assembled 
by volunteers at a shul in 
Teaneck, New Jersey, we were 
able to decide on a schedule 
of things we wanted to do 
while having time to visit 
family and help the Israeli 
economy by spending time 
shopping.
On our second day, we 
headed south.
Nothing prepared us for 
our trip to Kibbutz Nir 
Oz to witness the evil and 
devastation that the residents 
endured. The kibbutz is 1.5 
miles away from Gaza and, 
as we approached the site, 
we could see smoke from 
explosions on the horizon. 
Once we arrived, the first 
point of business was for 
the soldiers accompanying 
us to tell us that if a “Red 
Alert” happens, we had 10 
seconds to quickly lie on the 
ground and cover our heads. 
We were flanked by young 
IDF soldiers doing their part 
to protect us and were told 
to stick together and not 
wander off.
Prior to Oct. 7, the 
grounds of Nir Or were lush 

with colorful wildflowers 
and vegetation, which has 
continued to grow amidst the 
burnt-out buildings, shells 
from explosives, yard art, 
broken dishes and blood- 
drenched furniture. 
Our tour guide, who grew 
up on this kibbutz, said it 
was established in 1955. Nir 
Oz was one of the oldest and 
still-functioning kibbutzim, 
a home to “peaceniks” who 
honestly believe(d) that Jews 
and Arabs could live side 
by side and were vocal in 
their desire for a two-state 
solution. 
Our guide told us that 
when he was a child, he 
used to go swimming with 
fellow Gazans whose parents 
worked on the kibbutz 
farms. Gazan families shared 
meals with the kibbutzniks 
and, when a Gazan needed 
medical treatment, someone 
from the kibbutz would take 
them to an Israeli hospital to 
ensure better care. 
On the morning of Oct. 
7, hundreds of terrorists 
entered Kibbutz Nir Or. 
They knew which families 

were home, which were away 
and where the kibbutz’s 
command center and 
medical facility were located. 
They came equipped with 
explosive devices, guns, 
knives and other weaponry 
with one goal in mind — 
absolute destruction.
Our guide knew every 
family and took us from 
house to house, telling us 
who lived there, whether 
they were killed or 
kidnapped and whether their 
bodies have been returned 
to Israel. Of the 400 people 
living on the kibbutz prior to 
Oct. 7, now only 100 remain. 
This is where baby Kfir and 
his family lived. 
Our guide also told us 
about an older man and 
his wife who lived on the 
kibbutz and were supposed 
to be away visiting their 
granddaughter for the 
weekend. Plans changed and 
the granddaughter came to 
the kibbutz instead so that 
they could visit each other. 
Since the house was 
supposed to be empty, the 
terrorists were not careful in 

PURELY COMMENTARY

Lea Luger

The home of the 
family of baby Kfir
The kibbutz 
watchtower

Lea Luger 
and Renee 
Kozlowski at 
the BBQ on 
the IDF base

