From S'derot

Posted by: "judybalint" JudyB14868@aol.com judybalint
Mon May 21, 2007 1:41 pm (PST)

From Masha Rifkin,Sderot, courtesy of www.shorashim. comHow can I begin to describe the experience I went through yesterday?How can you capture the shaking ground, the unbearable noise of theimpact, the tears, the screaming, the mothers in hysterics -- how canyou, the reader, feel what I felt, see what I saw -- just by readingthese words? I ask you, leave your homes, your offices, yourclassrooms -- and step into this world for a moment, into Sderot.It was a type of scream I couldn't recognize, half laughter, halfterror, complete madness.

The first 'TSEVA ADOM'(Red Alert) alarm went off as I was across thestreet from my office, borrowing a friend's computer on the fourthfloor of an apartment building. Like usual, we stepped into thecorridor -- the safest place in the house -- and waited. 15? 14? 13? Ihad gotten to twelve when I heard the screaming. A type of scream Icouldn't recognize, half laughter, half terror, complete madness. 11?10? it fell. Maybe a block away at most. Everyone in the apartmentraced outside, and it wasn't until 30 seconds later -- when I wokefrom my daze - that I realized the screaming hadn't stopped. I wasabout to step outside to join the rest when, 'TSEVA ADOM'. Again. 15?14? I had barely reached 13 when it crashed, shaking my entire body --half a block away.How often have you read about Sderot's 'anxiety victims'? What do youpicture -- heightened blood pressure, breathing at a faster pace? No-- it is this woman's body, convulsing, flailing. It is her inabilityto think or move rationally -- to protect her child.

My phone rang: it was my boss Natasha, telling me to immediately comeback to the office, as the fourth floor of any building was not safe.I grabbed my roommate Jackie who had come with me for the day, curiousabout my work in Sderot, and together we ran back across the street,as quickly as we could -- into the office. Natasha looked us over,then asked if we had heard the scream. She explained that a youngmother was pushing her child in a stroller, when the first 'tsevaadom' alarm went off. Rationally speaking, she would have had enoughtime to pick up her child and rush with him into a nearby basement.But instead, she toppled over the stroller, child inside, and herselffell to the ground -- screaming. She did not cease until Natasha andthe others who ran out of the apartment lifted her and her child, andcarried her into a neighbor's apartment. How often have you read aboutSderot's 'anxiety victims'? What do you picture -- heightened bloodpressure, breathing at a faster pace? No -- it is this woman's body,convulsing, flailing. It is her inability to think or move rationally-- to protect her child. She was only able to collapse, hitting theground, as if the tremor of her beating fists would keep away the Qassam.

Natasha, Jackie, and I sat in the office -- trying to keep working.That's what you do in Sderot. Stop. Go. Stop. Go. We didn't getthrough much as every few minutes we would get phone calls fromhysterical parents. It was 7 o'clock, parents were still at work --their children alone at home. All I could hear was Natasha screaming,"Calm down? CALM DOWN. LISTEN TO ME, BREATHE! I WON'T TALK TO YOU UNTIL YOU BREATHE. Listen, your children are fine. No, I don't knowwhy they're not picking up the phone. They probably ran downstairs. I SAID CALM DOWN." Every few minutes another parent would call, havingheard that a Qassam fell by their home -- unable to reach their children. She was reliving it at that very moment -- the sound that killed herhusbandIt was at this moment that Purim Yakobov walked in -- a mother of oneof my children. I will be taking her son to a summer camp in thestates this June, and we had set up this meeting the previous week sothat she would be able to ask all of her questions. She walked, amidstthe rainfall of Qassams, to keep the meeting. There she was, stilldressed in black -- still mourning her husband -- who died 6 monthsago from a qassam attack. She lowered herself slowly onto a chair, herface absolutely white. She was reliving it at that very moment -- thesound that killed her husband. She took my hands, and pleaded with me,"Please," she said, "I have nothing. I have no one. My sons are everything. Promise me he will be happy. I need to hear it from you,please, they are all I have". Tears rolled down her cheeks, and Jackie-- even amidst the stress of dealing with her first Qassams, threw her arms around her. Purim left, and shortly after, 'TSEVA ADOM'.

We raninto the corridor, there were many of us now -- as the studentvolunteers were holding a meeting. I tried to count down from 15again, but was interrupted by one of the students. She was laughing."Hamas and Fatah finally made up, and in celebration, they're firing anice salute to us!" she said. We all burst out into fits of painfullaughter? BOOM. The laughter abruptly stopped, and someone spoke whatwas on all of our minds, "That one was really close".Hyperventilating, choking on her tears, her screams, yelling for hermotherAgain I heard screaming; I looked around quickly and realized thatNatasha was not there. Suddenly I heard her voice, "MASHA, WATER! HURRY!" I ran outside and found a circle of women, Natasha at thecenter, trying to console a young girl. Another 'anxiety victim'.Hyperventilating, choking on her tears, her screams, yelling for hermother over and over again. Natasha quickly poured cold water on thegirls face, and put her arms around her. The girl buried her face in Natasha's neck, clawing her fingers into her back, her shoulders,leaving deep scratches all across body. Eventually her breathing returned to normal; we seemed to be all breathing together, getting lost in the few moments of calm, when 'TSEVA ADOM, TSEVA ADOM'. The girl fell to the ground screaming, 'NO, NO, NO, NO, NO!

'I had to hold my breath to keep from gasping when I saw his bleeding eyesA half hour later, two reporters from Tel Aviv arrived. They askedNatasha if she could take them to the places that were hit by Qassams.I asked to go along, and we shortly arrived to the first location -- ahouse which was hit directly. I followed the gaze of the crowds ofpeople outside, and saw that the qassam had completely demolished oneside of the house. A man emerged from inside, and we all rushed overto him. I was surprised by how calm he was, until someone shown alight over his face. I had to hold my breath to keep from gasping whenI saw his bleeding eyes. Or, what I thought was bleeding -- red weltshad formed across them, he seemed unable to focus on anything. Hestared at nothing for a few moments, and then said seemingly to no one-- "If you hear tseva adom, you can go here" and pointed, withoutaverting his blank gaze, to a small cement wall behind him. We were eventually able to gently coax some answers out of him. It was not his house, it was his sister's. "She was standing in the kitchen" he paused "her body was completely torn by shrapnels? I don't know how she is." Natasha probed further about the children. "Three of them were in the basement -- baruch hashem -- but the fourth, I think hemay have been with her. The ambulance took them both away - I don'tknow how they are," he repeated. Another man pulled me aside to showme where a woman had been standing, only a few meters from the house. She had witnessed the entire scene, and had collapsed in shock. He then pointed to a truck parked nearby, with a large hole in the backwindshield where a shrapnel had flown through. The shrapnel had missedthe woman's face by mere centimeters.

The next location was in an apartment complex which houses mostly invalids, senior citizens, and single mothers. The qassam felldirectly into the center of the complex. We came across a manstanding, staring at the damage. He showed how a shrapnel had flownthrough his window and into his apartment. "My neighbor? she was justwatching T.V? a shrapnel went through her wall and into her eye."Location after location, gruesome story after gruesome story, 'tsevaadom' after 'tseva adom', boom after boom. It felt endless.

Later that night, Jackie and I drove back to Tel Aviv with the two reporters, amidst 'TSEVA ADOMS' and the sound of qassams crashingnearby. In the car, we wondered what our friends were doing back inthe States -- studying for finals, or perhaps celebrating theircompletion. We were trying to avoid missiles - funny. Back in TelAviv, we were unable to go up to our room. We were too heavy withguilt knowing that merely an hour away, people were suffering withouthelp. We decided to take a walk, and soon after, a nearby constructionsite made a noise all too similar to the qassams.

Jackie ran to a busstop nearby, and screamed, crying, pounding her fists against the walls:"I'M JUST SO ANGRY! PEOPLE ARE DYING, SUFFERING, AND EVERYONE IS SOSILENT! WE'RE AN HOUR AWAY, AND NO ONE CARES! WHY ISN'T ANYONE DOINGANYTHING, WHEN THEY CAN DO SO MUCH?"

As I write this, Qassams are falling in Sderot. Children are screaming, mothers are collapsing in despair, doctors are pulling pieces of shrapnel out of the bodies of Jewish people, and you arer eading this article out of the comfort of your home. From Masha Rifkin, Sderot