An Image Stuck in My Head: A meaningful moment with Rachel and Jon

Since the horrific news of the murder of 6 hostages broke after this past Shabbat, there has been a sense of collective grief and anguish amongst Jews around the world, which I have felt deeply. Countless minutes have been spent endlessly scrolling through social media, viewing clip after clip, and reading story after story about the precious lives that were lost.

But like many of my peers and people around the world, I find myself gravitating towards the story of one hostage who was murdered, Hersh Goldberg-Polin z”l. It is not my intent to diminish the lives of the 5 other hostages who were brutally murdered. I view their deaths as equally tragic, whose beautiful lives were tragically taken from us way too early. Rather, Hersh is the one that I felt a deep connection to and whose death feels most raw. It was a connection formed in the immediate aftermath of his kidnapping on October 7th, when it became clear that I know many of his relatives and family friends. And while that was all that was needed to form an emotional bond with him and his hurting family, more than anything it was the advocacy and efforts of his parents, Rachel and Jon who brought me closer to him and brought us all in as a family. I have probably seen them dozens of times doing interviews, making high-profile speeches, or even speaking at Jewish communal gatherings and events. Time and time again they have shown parental strength and love which has been unbreaking in the last 330-plus days.

But there is one moment I had with Rachel and Jon, a snapshot in time that I got to witness in person, outside of any media coverage, which has been on my mind these last few days. It is a moment from my visit to the White House for a Jewish Heritage Month event in May, which has stuck with me months later, despite the many other memorable moments I experienced on that day. But now with the news of Hersh’s death, this image that I captured has returned to the forefront of my mind in a way I wish it didn’t have to, with profound thoughts for this heart-breaking moment accompanying it.

As I exited the White House after the event, I noticed Rachel and Jon, who had been invited by the president to attend, exiting in front of me. I approached Rachel to share my hope and prayer for Hersh’s release from captivity and thank her for the strength she has exhibited which has uplifted so many. I was struck by how kind and friendly she was, going as far as to play “Jewish geography” with me despite her situation and the obvious pain she was going through. But what transpired next struck me even further and left a profound impact on me.

As I was finishing my conversation with Rachel, a group of middle-school-aged religious girls and their teacher, likely from a Bais Yaakov school, stopped in their tracks when they noticed Rachel and Jon who had assumed a very undesirable celebrity status. They went up to Rachel and Jon and asked permission to give her a hug, which they did in a tearful moment. The girls who had traveled far to visit the nation’s capital, proceeded to embrace Rachel and Jon and express to them how they prayed daily and recited tehilim (psalms) for the release of Hersh and the strength of his family. To me and the other onlookers watching this interaction take place, the raw emotion pierced the humid air and was physically visible to us. To them at their young age, these two parents represented something that they could grasp, parents just wanting to be with their child. It is what Hersh’s story and the continued plea of Rachel and Jon represented to so many Jews and people worldwide as they continued to share their story, making everyone feel connected to it. Now, we feel as if a piece of our puzzle has permanently been removed, one that we had such a fervent hope of returning to its right place.

Rachel Goldberg and Jon Polin speak to a group of girls outside the White House in May

That moment and picture which remains on my phone, was incredibly meaningful when I witnessed it back in May but that meaning has multiplied exponentially in recent days and has simultaneously furthered my sadness while also providing an ounce of hope. 

The sadness of the picture is a mixture of grieving the mere loss of their only son but also mourning the loss of the hope we had which powered us forward. For nearly 11 months we hoped for positive news of Hersh’s safe return along with the hundreds of other hostages. And while the reality of the direness of the situation was abundantly apparent, our hope was not allowed to fade away. If Rachel and Jon, who had every reason to lose hope, remained hopeful then we certainly must do so as well. We marched, we chanted, and we held signs for his release, hoping that our efforts would result in the outcome we all desired, which unfortunately did not happen. 

The wide recognition that Rachel and Jon received was not for lack of reason. We viewed and continue to view them as superheroes, stopping at nothing to advocate and plead for their son’s release. They left us with no choice other than to think that it could happen, that it certainly would. They served as a source of inspiration for me and countless others in a time when there is much that deflates our inspiration. They were our source of hope, the beacon of strength and humanity that kept us going and we are now left to figure out what to do when our source of inspiration is defeated, and the flame of hope has been to an extent extinguished. 

This combination of six undated photos shows hostages, from the top left, Hersh Goldberg-Polin, Ori Danino, and  Eden Yerushalmi; fromthe bottom left, Almog Sarusi, Alexander Lobanov, and Carmel Gat. (The Hostages Families Forum via AP)

In the swirl of grief and sadness of the deaths of Hersh, Carmel, Eden, Ori, Almog, and Alexander and the overall fractured nature of this world, there has been one reaction that this picture has reminded me of which has provided strength and renewed some hope: the embrace of others. In that moment outside the majestic White House, I witnessed people who would likely otherwise not be connected, embracing each other like family. This appearance of a family reunion is a scene that I’m sure has repeatedly taken place with the Golberg-Polins and others over the last 11 months. Over the last year, there have been countless instances of embracing like the one I witnessed, each carrying significant meaning. In the last few days, we have collectively comforted those mourning a lost loved one. As Rachel noted at Hersh’s funeral, the support and embrace they have received was deeply impactful and they know they will need it to continue to help them carry on life. We embraced them while they were fighting for the release of their son and now, we continue to embrace them once they know their son will not be returning home. 

Just as we have embraced and comforted the mourners, we have collectively embraced and comforted each other through the grief and agony and continue to embrace the families with loved ones still held hostage in Gaza. In times of tumult and tragedy, it is our natural responsibility to embrace each other, which is exactly what we have done to the best of our ability these past few days and the last year overall. When the world causes us to feel sincere pain and isolation, supporting each other and offering both metaphorical and physical hugs is what gives us an inkling of hope to push us forward.  

If a singular, minute-long, moment from before the summer has stuck with me and provided me with inspiration and strength, then surely continuing to comfort each other will have a widespread impact on us all. To get through the darkness we must collectively embrace each other to allow the emergence of light. 

May the families of Almog, Alexander, Carmel, Eden, Hersh, and Ori receive the comfort and strength they need, and may the families of those still held hostage be reunited with their loved ones.