With apologies to Harold, who posted a beautiful and
thoughtful blog below that he thought would be the last word, I have to add one
more that may be the last – until Mark or someone else posts something
else. After all, we are Jews. Nobody expects us to stop talking….
Today we visited the National Military Cemetery on Mount
Herzl for insight into the lives of those who are buried there, including
Theodor Herzl, Golda Meir, and Yitzhak Rabin, all of whose graves we visited. Enlightening as those discussions were, none
had as big of an impact as the story of an American buried there, Michael
Levin. His story has been documented in
a short film on his life called “A Hero in Heaven” so thankfully you don’t need
to rely on me to accurately recount the facts.
Here is some of what I remember, though, from the emotional talk
delivered at Michael's grave by our wonderful guide Rachel Smith from Da’at.
Michael grew up in the Philadelphia area in a loving Jewish
home, and like many of our kids, was active in a Jewish youth group and camp, in his case USY and Camp Ramah in
the Berkshires. In 2001 he came to
Israel for two months as part of a high school program, and after graduating
high school attended USY’s year-long program in Israel. On his first day, Michael announced that he
was going to make aliyah and move to Israel as soon as the year would end. The directors tried to temper his enthusiasm and
urged patience, but sure enough when the year was up, Michael kept his word.
He tried desperately to enlist in the military but as an
American citizen, his papers simply wouldn’t arrive. The equivalent of a bouncer kicked him out of
the recruitment building several times when he showed up without papers until
finally, he managed to climb in through an open window and get the interview he
needed. The officer, having heard
countless excuses from young men and women looking to avoid service, was
obviously enamored with Michael and pushed through the paperwork. Michael became a paratrooper.
Michael was home visiting his family in 2006 when the war
broke out with Hezbollah. Against the
strong urging of his friends and family, he immediately rushed back to
Israel. His superior officers had a communications
position lined up for him out of harm’s way in Israel, but he pushed hard for
them to send him in to Lebanon. They
ultimately agreed. Seven days later, he
was killed in combat.
Michael’s parents flew to Israel for the funeral. With everything happening, they weren’t sure
if they would have a minyan at the grave.
When they arrived at the cemetery, there was a crowd in front of more than a
thousand people. They assumed there was
a ceremony for a famous leader or dignitary.
They quickly learned that the crowd was there for Michael, as his story had
spread quickly and so many wanted to pay tribute.
One of the great things about the Mount Herzl cemetery is
that all the military graves are the same size.
Regardless of rank and stature, anyone who dies in the service of Israel
is given the same treatment in death.
We confirmed this when Rachel took us past the same size grave of Yoni Netanyahu, older
brother of the current Prime Minister, a national hero who died leading the Israeli forces
in the Entebbe hostage crisis.
Every direction in which we turned over the past two weeks,
we witnessed incredible pride in this country.
So many have worked so hard and sacrificed so much to bring us where we
are today. Just as we saw physically how
the Kotel is, in fact, a small part of the massive walls that surrounded the
Holy Temple, we saw firsthand how the struggles of our people in modern times are
just a small part of the long history of sacrifice we have endured for
centuries. I think we all are grateful
to have had the opportunity to be exposed to these truths firsthand, and see not
only how we sacrificed as with the story of Michael Levin, but how we endured. The fact that we were able to do so among
friends, with our Rabbi, a fantastic guide and driver, and the great comforts
and graciousness we experienced along the way, is a blessing we’ll be able to
draw on forever.
-- Ron Klempner