We were on our way back from my niece's birthday at Kochav Hashachar to our home in Shaare Tikva. At 20:45 P.M., about a kilometer before the Tapuach junction on Route 505, we heard the shots. It was very scary. I had to catch myself as quickly as possible and run away. It was either to run away or we would be shot again. I shouted "Shema Yisrael" and checked on my daughters. One of them didn't answer, she was shocked.
As soon as they fired at us, I thought about the attack in which Hillel Weigel Yaniv was murdered, a short distance away. I also thought about Lucy, Maya and Rina Dee, who were murdered on Route 90. I was afraid we could have been like the Dee family. Thank God, that didn't happen.
We need change
Later, I heard that a few weeks earlier, they had shot at a bus. I didn't know there had been such a shooting incident. We don't talk enough about it. In our case they reported, but there was no general discourse around it. I have no interest in advertising. The goal is for the government to do something, to wake up to prevent future victims. There is no other solution than a greater military presence in this place. If there had been a military force there, the terrorists would not have gone there.
Bullet marks on the wheels of Deborah Shitrit's car, photo: courtesy of Deborah Shitrit
This week in Samaria. Car fired from 12 bullets in Huwara, photo: Samaria Regional Council
Change must be made. It can't be that every few days they shoot at us. It's true that even if I had known about the shooting attack in the area, I probably would still have traveled. Apart from saying the prayer of the way, there is not much we can do. These are roads designed to take us to Israeli communities. I hear a lot of criticism that we drive on the roads, that it's "our problem." But you have to understand that this is the way to my family. People also travel to the Dead Sea, it's also a dangerous road. We have no choice.
A few days ago, they gave me back the wheel that had been damaged by the gunfire. It still has a hole in it. There's a bullet hitting our windshield, where I, as a driver, sit. It's a daily reminder of what happened to us. It's scary to think how it could have ended – and we are thankful for the miracle every day.
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