A Morning Blast
At 7:04 in the morning, a few minutes after getting out of bed, my phone started screeching. I checked it and saw a notification saying alerts were expected in my area within the next few minutes.
Iran had launched another barrage of ballistic missiles at my home.
So, I got off the floor, where I had been doing my morning breathwork, and put on my shoes. Then I walked to the kitchen to make coffee. Considering the high probability that I would be running for my life in a few minutes, I chose my Contigo travel thermos instead of a regular mug.
While I was waiting for the water to boil, I made a bottle of Materna for our baby. I knew it wasn’t my responsibility since we planned that my wife would be responsible for getting the baby to safety, and I would be responsible for the six-year-old and the four-year-old.
But I had some extra mental space to help out. My sister-in-law was sleeping on our couch so she could be near her base for reserve duty. With the extra set of hands, we decided that she would take the six-year-old, and I was only responsible for the four-year-old.
After putting the thermos and baby bottle in my back pockets, I went to the children’s room. My wife had already taken the baby out of his crib, and my sister-in-law had our girl, so I woke up my son and helped him put his shoes on. Then I led him to the door so he could wait next to it with everyone else for the expected siren.
As I brought him out, my wife said, “We need a bottle for Uzi (the baby’s name),” and I told her I had already prepared one. Since there was still no siren, I went to the kitchen and started taking my daily supplements.
As I was swallowing the pills, I heard the siren.
I quickly screwed the cap back onto the bottle of water I was drinking from and returned it to the fridge before running to the door. Everyone except the four-year-old had already disappeared down the stairs.
The sirens signify that we have one minute to get to a safe space. Our safe space is located in the basement — five flights of stairs below our apartment. As I closed the door behind us, I saw the morning paper on the floor and took a moment to slip it into my pocket before picking up my son and sprinting down the stairs.
Once we arrived in the shelter, we went to the back, where we had set up a mattress for our kids to lay on while waiting for attacks to end. I pulled out the bottle of Materna, and our baby crawled over, grabbed the bottle, and lay in my lap drinking it while I started on my coffee and the newspaper. Meanwhile, the older kids went to play with a large toy car that lives in the shelter.
BOOM
It was loud. Everyone started talking about it. Was it an interception, or was there a hit in our city? There is no cell phone service in the shelter, so we discussed it among ourselves while we waited.
Once we received the all-clear to leave, we went back upstairs (this time using the elevator) and continued with our normal morning routine—breakfast, davening, exercise, etc. Every few minutes, we all checked the news for updates.
Soon, we learned that the boom was a direct hit on our local hospital. The hospital where our baby was born a year and a half ago. The hospital where our friends went for work or to receive medical treatment. The hospital a mile and a half away from our home.
We received an update from a friend who was there that it struck a building that had been evacuated—no serious injuries.
Unfortunately, the same was not true in other parts of our tiny country. There were multiple direct hits in civilian areas, and some had caused serious injuries.
Between checking for updates and responding to WhatsApp messages from friends and family around the world who were worried about my safety, I finished my morning routine, got in my car, and drove to work.
I could have worked from home, but I also wanted to work out, and my scheduled workout involved the 36kg kettlebells, which were at the gym where my office is located. Since the current HomeFront Command directions allowed me to move around, there was no real reason to change the plan.
Driving to work meant passing the hospital that had been hit, but my route didn’t take me close enough to see any damage or even road closures.
I had a productive morning at work, then went to the gym and did my workout. After finishing, I drove home for lunch; since I planned to work from home in the evening, I didn’t pack anything to eat.
Just another day in Israel, the eternal homeland of the Jewish people.
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P.S. The photo is from one of the nighttime sirens earlier this week. We have spent a lot of time in the bomb shelter recently.