On the night of the attack, my husband, on my way home, I encountered hundreds of angry and rioting Jewish youths on Route 60 on the outskirts of Lubban a-Sharqiya. I've never seen anything like it before. When I pulled out my camera for a few moments, they insisted that I stop. Military and police forces tried to control the aggressive demonstration. What's the point of venting rage on innocent people's property? Why wear down the security forces, which are already torn to the limit, in order to protect us? Later at Ali Junction, dozens of girls sadly sing in a circle, embracing each other, demonstrating respectfully.
The day after the attack, life goes on, that's how it always is. There is no other choice - not for those driving cars with the yellow plate, not even for those with the white plate. Jewish and Arab traffic on Route 60 is awake. The sunflowers bloom bright yellow next to the yellowing shell in the fields. Beautiful outside, painful inside.
Civilians praying at the site of the attack in Ali
It is sad to die on Rosh Chodesh Tammuz. But we set off, wearing a thick shell of armor over the heart during seven attacks, which numbs the senses of pain and fear. Not a single small hesitation whether to travel from Ofra to the pool in Ariel. Getting on with life, that's how it is the day after. Driving along the path of thoughts and prayers with the Tobelski family, neighbors from Ofra, whose son Eran was wounded in the attack, with the other wounded and with our heroic fighters who were wounded in Jenin.
Strengthen settlement
At noon, on the way back, I stop to attend and report from the funeral of Ofer Fairman, a man I didn't know, a resident of Ali, whose neighbors and family describe him as a particularly caring, generous, colorful, funny, and most politically incorrect man there is. A funeral devoid of cries of rage or revenge, no wailing and crying. His daughter Yifat, his son Matanel and his wife Ziona maintain noble restraint. They and the audience smile as their neighbors tell funny anecdotes about Ofer, who brought the coffee cup with him to the neighbors "because you're stingy and you won't bring me coffee," and eats them half a cake.
The funeral of Ofer Fairman, who was murdered in the attack on my husband, photo: TPS
Ofer Fairman, Harel Massoud, Elisha Antman and Nachman Shmuel Mordoff. The four victims of the horrific attack in my husband, photo: courtesy of the families
The eulogies are signed by a representative of the Israeli government, Minister of Economy and Industry Nir Barkat, who promises that the government will deal with terrorism with broad and harsh measures. What a shame that the political echelon is able to let the IDF win and eradicate the nests of terror only after blood has been spilled.
"We will build more, strengthen the settlements, pave roads, build houses, open the economy and industrial zones and bring another two million residents to Judea and Samaria, God willing," Barkat promised. "We will bring millions of tourists from all over the world to visit sites that tell the story of the Land of the Bible, so that the world will know who really owns the Land of Israel."
Beautiful words, now it remains only to perform. This is what the widowed Ziona asks of him quietly, with a smile. 1,000 housing units is not enough. She asks Ali to become the first city in Binyamin. God what soul strength does this woman have who smiles at the minister, laughs with him and bothers to tell him in her grief: "I'm not mad at you." How much dissonance there is between the pain in her eyes and the smile that never relents. "I will pass on your orders to the cabinet, Ziona," Barkat replies.
Minister Nir Barkat, Photo: Jonathan Zindel
Ofer was buried next to Elisha Antman, a handsome boy whose life was cut short by the murderers' bullets just before the high school graduation celebrations. Elisha fell on duty as an employee of Homs Eliyahu and was brought to eternal rest on Tuesday night.
The heart is wounded
The day after, at the end of Ofer's second funeral, my husband's gas station is still packed with security forces. The marks of the bullets that penetrated through the chickpea glass and lodged in the counter are still evident and wound the heart. A memorial candle is lit on a table draped in an Israeli flag in the center of the store, greeting Economy Minister Nir Barkat and Israel Gantz, head of the Binyamin Council. They are talking about the plan that has been lying on the shelf for too long - to build an industrial zone and a commercial center at the gas station.
Hummus glass the day after the attack, photo: AP
The funeral of Harel Massoud, who was murdered in the attack on my husband, photo: Reuters
Today, only two stores operate there: the hummus shop and the gas station's convenience store. But Aviad Treasurer, the owner of the place, also wants a closer solution. "This place is completely hacked, nothing in this area is taken for granted," Aviad says.
"One business can't have security. There needs to be a huge center here and then there will also be security," adds Itai Yaakov, the owner of the gas station and a partner in Hummusia. "On a daily basis, when there are dozens of customers sitting here to wipe hummus, it looks good, but on the business level we are dealing with difficulties here. We feel a mission. We carry the place on our shoulders. With all the difficulties, we continue. Tomorrow it will be possible to wipe hummus here."
The convenience store at my husband's gas station on the evening of the attack, Photo: AP
On the way home to Ofra, riots again took place. A cloud of smoke over Turmus Aya. Revenge is sought by the hotheads, borderless criminals who damage neighborly relations and cause tremendous damage to the settlement enterprise. Too bad they didn't hear Ziona's whispers. Zionist revenge is to continue, deepen and expand life. Build the day after and every single day.
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