"Bercy! Bercy! Bercy!" The masses called. Woke up confused, didn't they yell "Barca!" This was the case in the old days, when the beaches of Tel Aviv were full of people and it wasn't strange, or when the guard asked, "Have any weapons?" And not "is there any heat?" There was something like that. 

When the Corona epidemic broke out we went back to watch TV. I mean, news, not Netflix. As in the days of the exploding buses, puffing stories and reporters washed our screen until the attacks were over. It's not that important or bad things have happened since then, but, how to say, we've lost confidence. They seemed to continue with the shrill tone even when there was no reason. And we got tired of feeling pressure. 

But then came the 9/9 of the health scripts. When the real thing happened in New York twenty years ago and the second plane crashed into the second tower, everyone was struck by the recognition that it was not an accident. I was in the US and we ran to screens "to see what was going on." The reporters were simply silenced. They sat in the studio for hours and didn't know what to say. As an Israeli terrorist, I had a script at the head of what a broadcast of a terrorist would look like, and suddenly I realized that Americans had no idea, it wasn't their routine For three days, they didn't know what to say, only nodding in humble eyes as they interviewed government officials and terrorists as the president's plane went off without a destination, so the interviewers' supposedly stiff questions disappeared, and the smug teasing was replaced with frantic amazement and shock. 

The same happened with the Corona. Slowly, we realized that something we hadn't seen, a global epidemic, except for Professor "It's just the flu" of course. We turned on the TV again in the main edition, seeking information and comfort. In the first month the reporters were like us, at a loss and embarrassed. Without the fake tone of the omniscient, ordinary people who have no idea green. Stuttering statistics and thirst quenching interviews with doctors and health officials. The tricky questions were gone and there were genuine concerns and concerns. 

Those who held our steering ship safely during those anxious days were three health officials who have become our new screen heroes and performers - Moshe Bar a good sign in his laid-back style, Sigal Sadecki in her impressive appearance and Itamar Grotto, member of the World Health Organization. After Prime Minister's speeches and devotees in the prime minister's time, we awaited the findings of our specialists, the people responsible for Israel's medical system. "Is there an episode of Bersey and Sadecki today?" We asked. We were staring at their explanations of curves and reagents, which were later returned by the broadcasters. And we felt great pride, in them and ourselves, that we have such talented and professional people to hang with in the moments of terror. 

Since then, horror has passed, and it has become clear that the number of victims per capita in Israel is among the lowest in the world. We breathe a sigh of relief, and the reporters hold a plastic knife between their teeth and compulsively dig for failures and scandals. We closed the television satisfied. One tenth of the victims in Sweden (Sweden!), One in New York (America!). unbelievable. Although Israel is a young country, it is very crowded. There are the people who will always say "New Zealand did it better". And still, most of us want to say thank you. Thanks to Sadecki and Grotto for staying with us, and thank you to Barcy for a moment before leaving. Thank you very much and goodbye.

Dr. Rona Yona is a history professor at Tel Aviv University and the Oranim College